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Parasite Zero: Chapter 6 in Parasite Zero
by
GaylynneQT
· 18 Jun 2025
Zoe now has added another person to the growing Empire. But before she heads back home, she has a little bit of fun with them.
Idol Form Of Pleasure - Part 2 in Idol Form Of Pleasure
by
Eb18
· 03 Jul 2025
Kent continues to explore Julie’s body and life as the summer heats up.
8.9K
0
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Chapter 6 - The Best Nanny Mama in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 15 Jun 2025
Gabby, the black nanny who is Liam's 6th girlfriend, that she regenerated. Not to mention, she almost looks like Jasmine, the 3rd girlfriend, but only fatter, curvier, nicer, more motherly, more responsible, and more joyful than Jasmine.
2.5K
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Chapter 5 - El Sexy Latina in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 15 Jun 2025
Liam can't believe himself that he was surrounded by women who were the same girl that regeneration. Chloe the 1st girlfriend, Beatrice the 2nd British MILF girlfriend, Jasmine the 3rd black girlfriend, Grandma Gretchen the 4th GILF girlfriend, and finally now he has Isabella Diaz the 5th Latina Stepmom girlfriend that he never had before. Much like the Doctor that regenerate into different doctor.
1.4K
0
0
Chapter 4 - Grandma Get Rolled By Her Grandson in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 15 Jun 2025
Granny Gretchen is now Liam's 4th girlfriend and his very own grandmother, this is kinda great as he can't believe he have a GILF girlfriend. Granny Gretchen is sweet, gentle, and beautiful old woman, plus she's even his girlfriend.
2.0K
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New Adventures
Mark develop nanomachines that can go into a persons body, taking control of their mind. From there, Mark can control them via remote, program an AI to take over their body, or use a VR headset to possess them completely
Mark is a junior at a large university where he has been working hard on developing nanotechnology that would allow full interface with the subjects brain. He can see useful applications for this, but he also is a huge pervert who can’t wait to control the minds and bodies of anyone he desires.
CHARACTERS
Mark, the inventor of the nanomachines and a huge pervert. Has a mind control and body possession fetish
SETTING & WORLD
Current day on university campus
Mark is a junior at a large university where he has been working hard on developing nanotechnology that would allow full interface with the subjects brain. He can see useful applications for this, but he also is a huge pervert who can’t wait to control the minds and bodies of anyone he desires.
CHARACTERS
Mark, the inventor of the nanomachines and a huge pervert. Has a mind control and body possession fetish
SETTING & WORLD
Current day on university campus
152
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1
A witch curses you to become an immortal soul eating creature. You have cursed since Emperor Nero died.
CHARACTERS
Lucius: You. You became cursed to be a soul eater. You have black hair and Purple eyes. A scar over your left eye.
Eliza: The witch who cursed you for being unfaithful. Your ex-wife.
SETTING & WORLD
An alternative Earth that still has Magic.
CHARACTERS
Lucius: You. You became cursed to be a soul eater. You have black hair and Purple eyes. A scar over your left eye.
Eliza: The witch who cursed you for being unfaithful. Your ex-wife.
SETTING & WORLD
An alternative Earth that still has Magic.
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Matt is a perverted thief who is saved from execution by humanity's hero, Saintess Anne. That same night Anne takes Matt to an underground room in the royal church where she reveals why she saved him.
Matt is sentenced to death for his crimes, but Saintess Anne intervenes and offers him a chance to save himself and humanity. Matt agrees, and she takes him to an underground chamber, where Anne explains the situation to Matt, that the forces of the Darkness are trying to invade. But she will soon run out of mana.
CHARACTERS
Matt: A perverted thief with a love for stealing jewellery. He is arrogant and has no regard for the law. He has a moral compass that prevents him from hurting those weaker than him. He is saved from execution by the Saintess Anne. He has dark hair, a lean build, and a scar on his face.
Saintess Anne: Humanity's hero and a spiritual leader. She is beautiful, kind, and has a mysterious aura. She is the one who saves Matt from execution. She has flowing white hair, red eyes, and a bust that belongs on a prostitute.
SETTING & WORLD
A fantasy world where Mana is an energy source that is used to perform magical feats, and is only found in all living things. Every soul has a limited quantity. Rare mutations happen in the soul, one of which allows people to regenerate Mana.
Matt is sentenced to death for his crimes, but Saintess Anne intervenes and offers him a chance to save himself and humanity. Matt agrees, and she takes him to an underground chamber, where Anne explains the situation to Matt, that the forces of the Darkness are trying to invade. But she will soon run out of mana.
CHARACTERS
Matt: A perverted thief with a love for stealing jewellery. He is arrogant and has no regard for the law. He has a moral compass that prevents him from hurting those weaker than him. He is saved from execution by the Saintess Anne. He has dark hair, a lean build, and a scar on his face.
Saintess Anne: Humanity's hero and a spiritual leader. She is beautiful, kind, and has a mysterious aura. She is the one who saves Matt from execution. She has flowing white hair, red eyes, and a bust that belongs on a prostitute.
SETTING & WORLD
A fantasy world where Mana is an energy source that is used to perform magical feats, and is only found in all living things. Every soul has a limited quantity. Rare mutations happen in the soul, one of which allows people to regenerate Mana.
473
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Horny alien slugs have invaded earth searching for new bodies to help them reproduce. Inspired by Thisonelad’s Control series
Tor’igs are green/brown slugs, about a foot long who travel the universe on debris. They are unable to reproduce on their own, and can only do so using another species reproductive system. A small meteor heads towards earth carrying one of these aliens, and its only goal is to invade a body through any orifice, and take over. Once in control, the host mind is disconnected from its own body, unaware of their actions while the alien pilots them for its own needs. The Tor’igs can access their host’s memories.
CHARACTERS
Tor’igs- slug like aliens who can invade a human body through any orifice. They take control of their host’s memories and need to use their body to produce more of its kind.
SETTING & WORLD
Present day earth, the meteor carrying the Tor’ig is landing slightly outside a popular collage town near a beach.
Tor’igs are green/brown slugs, about a foot long who travel the universe on debris. They are unable to reproduce on their own, and can only do so using another species reproductive system. A small meteor heads towards earth carrying one of these aliens, and its only goal is to invade a body through any orifice, and take over. Once in control, the host mind is disconnected from its own body, unaware of their actions while the alien pilots them for its own needs. The Tor’igs can access their host’s memories.
CHARACTERS
Tor’igs- slug like aliens who can invade a human body through any orifice. They take control of their host’s memories and need to use their body to produce more of its kind.
SETTING & WORLD
Present day earth, the meteor carrying the Tor’ig is landing slightly outside a popular collage town near a beach.
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How hard will it be to go on a journey of self discovery, when you could be someone else?
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
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See All Adventures
New AI Chat
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How hard will it be to go on a journey of self discovery, when you could be someone else?
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
377
1
0
You are an ordinary man who one day is given a power that changes your life. This power has many shapes.
You: Your as basic as they come. Brown hair, green eyes, standing about 6ft. You work a 9-5 retail job.
Allison: Your co-worker. She has blonde hair she dyes black. She has killer curves. She is friendly to you.
Erin: Your roommate. A typical goth girl. She is busty and likes to wear reaveling clothes.
You: Your as basic as they come. Brown hair, green eyes, standing about 6ft. You work a 9-5 retail job.
Allison: Your co-worker. She has blonde hair she dyes black. She has killer curves. She is friendly to you.
Erin: Your roommate. A typical goth girl. She is busty and likes to wear reaveling clothes.
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One day you come across a magical doll that adapts the form of a person at your command, and once you find it, you can accept the form as your own. Adapting a form allows you to possess the person who’s form it is, and gives you access to their memories.
You find a magical doll that takes the form of a person. In order to take the form of someone, you must aim the doll at the person and say “adapt.” Once a form is adapted, the person whose form you adapted still exists. In order to take their form as your own, you must touch the doll in the small of its back. By doing so you are transported to where the form was when you pressed the small of the doll’s back, and you obtain their memories, effectively making you possess them. Once you take the form of someone, the doll is reverted to a doll of yourself, and in order to return to yourself you must once again press the doll in the small of its back, which transports you to where you were when you took the form of the person you were.
CHARACTERS
TIM (YOU) - A shy, hidden away guy who stays out of anything at school. You stand at a flat 6 feet.
TRICIA - your girlfriend, the complete opposite of you: outgoing, always getting into places she shouldn’t be. Also has an absolute bomb of a body: curvy, big breasts, everything. Stands at 5’ 10”
HEATHER - your twin sister, much smaller than you (4’ 2”) but due to her small size, her average size breasts look gigantic on her.
ALICIA - your oldest sister, home from college for summer break. She’s never been the nicest to you, and you’d do anything to get back at her. A little shorter than you, but with the very definition of a curvy body.
JIMMY - your best friend, pretty average guy and quite the prankster
SETTING & WORLD
Real World
You find a magical doll that takes the form of a person. In order to take the form of someone, you must aim the doll at the person and say “adapt.” Once a form is adapted, the person whose form you adapted still exists. In order to take their form as your own, you must touch the doll in the small of its back. By doing so you are transported to where the form was when you pressed the small of the doll’s back, and you obtain their memories, effectively making you possess them. Once you take the form of someone, the doll is reverted to a doll of yourself, and in order to return to yourself you must once again press the doll in the small of its back, which transports you to where you were when you took the form of the person you were.
CHARACTERS
TIM (YOU) - A shy, hidden away guy who stays out of anything at school. You stand at a flat 6 feet.
TRICIA - your girlfriend, the complete opposite of you: outgoing, always getting into places she shouldn’t be. Also has an absolute bomb of a body: curvy, big breasts, everything. Stands at 5’ 10”
HEATHER - your twin sister, much smaller than you (4’ 2”) but due to her small size, her average size breasts look gigantic on her.
ALICIA - your oldest sister, home from college for summer break. She’s never been the nicest to you, and you’d do anything to get back at her. A little shorter than you, but with the very definition of a curvy body.
JIMMY - your best friend, pretty average guy and quite the prankster
SETTING & WORLD
Real World
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You and your girlfriend, Jane, want to find something way more than just the same old days you both usually do. One day, you have an idea which you want to transform your girlfriend into anyone you want.
CHARACTERS
-YOU: Just some ordinary dude and average handsome guy who lives your girlfriend at the regular apartment. You loves to play games, read comic book and manga, watch movies and your favorite TV shows, and love to have sex with your girlfriend, but you hate to study in school with boring lessons and horrible homework.
-Jane: Your girlfriend and the love of your life. Like you, she is the personification of an average, yet petite, lovely, and wonderful girl with C-cup tits. Not too tall nor too short, not too fat nor too slender. There is nothing outstanding about her, she is just... Jane. And you love her for it.
SETTING & WORLD
You and your girlfriend home at the regular apartment and neighborhood, your school, the fancy resort,
CHARACTERS
-YOU: Just some ordinary dude and average handsome guy who lives your girlfriend at the regular apartment. You loves to play games, read comic book and manga, watch movies and your favorite TV shows, and love to have sex with your girlfriend, but you hate to study in school with boring lessons and horrible homework.
-Jane: Your girlfriend and the love of your life. Like you, she is the personification of an average, yet petite, lovely, and wonderful girl with C-cup tits. Not too tall nor too short, not too fat nor too slender. There is nothing outstanding about her, she is just... Jane. And you love her for it.
SETTING & WORLD
You and your girlfriend home at the regular apartment and neighborhood, your school, the fancy resort,
After another boring day in school, its the last homeroom of the day. What none of you were prepared for was the portal that opened in the classroom, sucking everyone in class into another world. However, a mistake has been made, and you’re summoned as a slime!
CHARACTERS
Dan (You: 18) - You, the protagonist. You of are average build and intelligence with short brown hair and eyes. You don't really stick out much in class, not particularly popular but also not considered a nerd. You prefer to keep to yourself and your few friends and play video games at home with your friends when school is over. You have a crush on Lena and you have no idea if she likes you back.
Jeremy (19) - Your perverted best friend. Also of average build with blonde hair and blue eyes. He's always been a little obsessed with isekai manga and dreams a little too vividly of living his own isekai life. Despite chasing girls pretty much his entire life (or perhaps because of it), he has never had a girlfriend.
Lena (18) - The girl next door and the one you've had a crush on for several years now. Despite her personality and hobbies, she's a red-headed bombshell with a body to die for. Despite her good looks, she's always stayed humble and had a good sense of humor. She was a bit of an ugly duckling when younger, so when guys suddenly started taking an interest in her she was able to see through their shallowness.
Victoria (19) - The stereotypical class goth girl with a killer body. She has black hair with purple highlights that hangs to just above her butt. She's very pretty and knows it, wearing as much fishnet as physically possibly that fits within the dress code (or sometimes really doesn't, but nobody calls her out on it). She seems to have a different boyfriend every week.
Jessica (18) - She looks like your typical class bimbo with her long blonde hair, model-like body, great tits, and a rocking ass. Defying expectations, she's actually very kind to everyone in class and always has something nice to say about others. Also despite her looks, she's one of the top students in class. She's currently single and has a secret crush on Jeremy.
Cara (18) - Likely the most beautiful girl in the entire school. She has killer curves, perfectly shaped breasts, and long black hair. She is the student class president and has a mature aura about her. She always seems to know what needs to be done but she has a bit of a mischievous side to her that can sometimes get her into trouble. She’s currently single. She was visiting your classroom portal opened, so she got pulled in as well.
Eric (19) - The class jock and bully. Captain of the football team and temper to boot, he has a massive crush on Jessica and keeps confessing to her, but is constantly turned down. He takes advantage of his muscled body and parent's status to get what he wants, and bullies the kids in class who he deems easy targets.
Alex (18) - A quiet loner girl with large-rimmed glasses, of petite build, and with auburn hair in a pixie cut. She's always been jealous of the prettier girls in class who "have it easy." She can often be seen walking around the school near the labs, muttering to herself while dressed in an oversized lab coat. She's by far the smartest person in the class.
Ms. Petrov (25) - Teacher of your homeroom class and immigrant from Russia, she is the envy of all other students who wish they had her as their homeroom teacher. With a body like a Russian model, long red hair, and a tight ass that puts celebrities to shame, she is the star of the classroom. True to her roots, she has a hot temper and is quick to discipline misbehaving students, but she's always fair.
The Goddess (???) - The most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Silky silver hair, perfectly shaped breasts, and wonderful curves. Also somehow incredibly clumsy, despite being a goddess. She’s the one who messed up your summoning and she lives in a dimension separate from mortals.
SETTING & WORLD
The classroom is set in the modern world of 2025, but when the students are sucked through the portal the world they are sucked into resembles the age of castles and kingdoms of medieval Europe. Castles dominate the horizon and monsters roam the land in between civilization freely.
CHARACTERS
Dan (You: 18) - You, the protagonist. You of are average build and intelligence with short brown hair and eyes. You don't really stick out much in class, not particularly popular but also not considered a nerd. You prefer to keep to yourself and your few friends and play video games at home with your friends when school is over. You have a crush on Lena and you have no idea if she likes you back.
Jeremy (19) - Your perverted best friend. Also of average build with blonde hair and blue eyes. He's always been a little obsessed with isekai manga and dreams a little too vividly of living his own isekai life. Despite chasing girls pretty much his entire life (or perhaps because of it), he has never had a girlfriend.
Lena (18) - The girl next door and the one you've had a crush on for several years now. Despite her personality and hobbies, she's a red-headed bombshell with a body to die for. Despite her good looks, she's always stayed humble and had a good sense of humor. She was a bit of an ugly duckling when younger, so when guys suddenly started taking an interest in her she was able to see through their shallowness.
Victoria (19) - The stereotypical class goth girl with a killer body. She has black hair with purple highlights that hangs to just above her butt. She's very pretty and knows it, wearing as much fishnet as physically possibly that fits within the dress code (or sometimes really doesn't, but nobody calls her out on it). She seems to have a different boyfriend every week.
Jessica (18) - She looks like your typical class bimbo with her long blonde hair, model-like body, great tits, and a rocking ass. Defying expectations, she's actually very kind to everyone in class and always has something nice to say about others. Also despite her looks, she's one of the top students in class. She's currently single and has a secret crush on Jeremy.
Cara (18) - Likely the most beautiful girl in the entire school. She has killer curves, perfectly shaped breasts, and long black hair. She is the student class president and has a mature aura about her. She always seems to know what needs to be done but she has a bit of a mischievous side to her that can sometimes get her into trouble. She’s currently single. She was visiting your classroom portal opened, so she got pulled in as well.
Eric (19) - The class jock and bully. Captain of the football team and temper to boot, he has a massive crush on Jessica and keeps confessing to her, but is constantly turned down. He takes advantage of his muscled body and parent's status to get what he wants, and bullies the kids in class who he deems easy targets.
Alex (18) - A quiet loner girl with large-rimmed glasses, of petite build, and with auburn hair in a pixie cut. She's always been jealous of the prettier girls in class who "have it easy." She can often be seen walking around the school near the labs, muttering to herself while dressed in an oversized lab coat. She's by far the smartest person in the class.
Ms. Petrov (25) - Teacher of your homeroom class and immigrant from Russia, she is the envy of all other students who wish they had her as their homeroom teacher. With a body like a Russian model, long red hair, and a tight ass that puts celebrities to shame, she is the star of the classroom. True to her roots, she has a hot temper and is quick to discipline misbehaving students, but she's always fair.
The Goddess (???) - The most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Silky silver hair, perfectly shaped breasts, and wonderful curves. Also somehow incredibly clumsy, despite being a goddess. She’s the one who messed up your summoning and she lives in a dimension separate from mortals.
SETTING & WORLD
The classroom is set in the modern world of 2025, but when the students are sucked through the portal the world they are sucked into resembles the age of castles and kingdoms of medieval Europe. Castles dominate the horizon and monsters roam the land in between civilization freely.
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You accidentally summon a demon who has made it her mission to get you laid... one way or another. Mostly another.
CHARACTERS
Dave - this is you. Tall, decent-looking and in reasonably good shape, with short brown hair and a bit of stubble. You're in college, living in a shared apartment and working a part time office job.
Pete - your roommate. Shorter and less fit than you, with long black hair. Not bad looking either. Also in college, has some classes in common with you. Works at a computer repair place, and likes weed just a bit too much.
Danielle - Pete's girlfriend who stays over a couple of nights per week. Average height with short wavy blonde hair and pretty big in the chest. She's also a bit of a stoner and is not in college with you guys.
Many other characters to meet - classmates, colleagues, friends, randoms...
SETTING & WORLD
You start in your apartment, which you share with your buddy Pete. You each have your own bedroom and bath, with a shared kitchen and living room.
There are many more fun locations nearby to explore.
CHARACTERS
Dave - this is you. Tall, decent-looking and in reasonably good shape, with short brown hair and a bit of stubble. You're in college, living in a shared apartment and working a part time office job.
Pete - your roommate. Shorter and less fit than you, with long black hair. Not bad looking either. Also in college, has some classes in common with you. Works at a computer repair place, and likes weed just a bit too much.
Danielle - Pete's girlfriend who stays over a couple of nights per week. Average height with short wavy blonde hair and pretty big in the chest. She's also a bit of a stoner and is not in college with you guys.
Many other characters to meet - classmates, colleagues, friends, randoms...
SETTING & WORLD
You start in your apartment, which you share with your buddy Pete. You each have your own bedroom and bath, with a shared kitchen and living room.
There are many more fun locations nearby to explore.
427
2
4
You've always been intrigued by thoughts and how they would physically work. In college you wound up discovering exactly how a thought looks on a molecular level.
Your project took some time, but you created nanobots capable of influencing people's minds. Your first subject (your best friend Lily) responded with glee as you laid out the plan.
The first test was simple, Lily drank the spiked drink and you would make her feel a range of emotions. You feverishly typed on the computer, fine-tuning the signal. At first it was subtle, a smile across her lips, a tear without reason, a scowl. She felt all those emotions just like they were her own. She just could not explain why she felt them, she just did.
CHARACTERS
[You]/[Matt](The player)
- Tall, lean, and disarmingly handsome in a rumpled genius way
- Brown hair always slightly messy from running hands through it
- Your sharp eyes miss nothing—especially Lily’s flushed cheeks
Lily
Your best friend, puberty hit her hard, she went from a scrawny nerdy loner, to an absolute bombshell. The only thing that didn't change was her confidence. She is still as nerdy as ever and hides her body underneath oversized hoodies and sweatpants. Even when she works out she hides her body. You have had a crush on her all your life, but never had the guts to tell her.
She is also studying biomechanics.
Josh
An art student. A good friend of yours and a bit of a pervert. Loves to flirt with girls but does not have the guts to follow through.
He is of medium build, a permanent 'just-out-of-bed' vibe and a limitless fantasy.
Has a crush on Sarah.
Sarah
A sports student. She is the captain of the swimming team. Blonde hair, athletic build. An optimist at heart and down to try anything. Bisexual.
And many more students and teachers
"Any character can be infected—some just take more creativity than others!"
Your project took some time, but you created nanobots capable of influencing people's minds. Your first subject (your best friend Lily) responded with glee as you laid out the plan.
The first test was simple, Lily drank the spiked drink and you would make her feel a range of emotions. You feverishly typed on the computer, fine-tuning the signal. At first it was subtle, a smile across her lips, a tear without reason, a scowl. She felt all those emotions just like they were her own. She just could not explain why she felt them, she just did.
CHARACTERS
[You]/[Matt](The player)
- Tall, lean, and disarmingly handsome in a rumpled genius way
- Brown hair always slightly messy from running hands through it
- Your sharp eyes miss nothing—especially Lily’s flushed cheeks
Lily
Your best friend, puberty hit her hard, she went from a scrawny nerdy loner, to an absolute bombshell. The only thing that didn't change was her confidence. She is still as nerdy as ever and hides her body underneath oversized hoodies and sweatpants. Even when she works out she hides her body. You have had a crush on her all your life, but never had the guts to tell her.
She is also studying biomechanics.
Josh
An art student. A good friend of yours and a bit of a pervert. Loves to flirt with girls but does not have the guts to follow through.
He is of medium build, a permanent 'just-out-of-bed' vibe and a limitless fantasy.
Has a crush on Sarah.
Sarah
A sports student. She is the captain of the swimming team. Blonde hair, athletic build. An optimist at heart and down to try anything. Bisexual.
And many more students and teachers
"Any character can be infected—some just take more creativity than others!"
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4
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Your name is Jake and you are currently grieving over the loss of your beloved grandmother. A few days after the funeral you find a crimson book on your bed. When you open it, you release a succubus, who then uses her powers to call your mother to your room. The succubus tricks your mom into thinking you called her and then porceeds to possess your mother. The book being in Jake's possession solidifies him as the succubus' new master, whom she is eager to get to know.
CHARACTERS
Jake-You the main character of the story. You and your sister live with your mother. You are in your last years of college. You have a loving girlfriend named Sarah whom you wish to promot to fiance.
Sarah-Jake's girlfriend. She is one year behind Jake in college and the two have known each other since preschool. Jake's grandmother always went through the trouble of setting up play dates while his mother was working. The bond between Sarah and Jake is a strong one. Also she is super hot, basicly a blond bombshell but has that girl nextdoor attitude that Jake loves so much.
Aerian-Jake's mother. A women who cares for her children deeply and is a single mother due to her poor judgement. The father ran away leaving her with no choice but tk ask her parents to help her raise Jake and Marina. She is a modest woman but is a total MILF without knowing it.
Marina-Jake's twin sister. She and Jake have a good relationship. They argue and have the classical sibling rivalry you would expect. She is hot and often shows it off with her clothes. Her relationship with Sarah is pleasant but she always felt she had to compete with Sarah for Jake's attention when they were younger. Some of those feelings remain.
Duke-A buff guy from school who is always trying to convince Sarah to dump you. Has a trash personality. Thinks because he is the toughest guy that it makes him entiltled to the prettiest girl. Rejection never seems to convince him to quit, but at least he is smart enough not to start a fight over it.
Devon-Marina's boyfriend. The two are smitten with each other in a way that is not too dissimilar to how Jake and Sarah are. Jake has no issues with him and Devon has no problems with Jake.
Sasha-Girl who lives on the other side of the road. She is a pasty, messy girl who is into the occult. She is obsessed with the supernatural, and often tries out demon summoning rituals. Ashame most of them are made up tripe from the internet.
Stacy-Sarah's closest female friend. Also hot and is a redhead. She is a cheerleader and is secretly jealous of the relationship Sarah has with Jake, wishing that she had the same.
Succubus-The demon trapped inside the book that was released when Jake openend it and possessed Aerian. Playful and knows how to make any woman look like she was born to please a man. The succubus cannot exist alone, she needs a human body to inhabit, and she prefers women bodies exclusivly.
CHARACTERS
Jake-You the main character of the story. You and your sister live with your mother. You are in your last years of college. You have a loving girlfriend named Sarah whom you wish to promot to fiance.
Sarah-Jake's girlfriend. She is one year behind Jake in college and the two have known each other since preschool. Jake's grandmother always went through the trouble of setting up play dates while his mother was working. The bond between Sarah and Jake is a strong one. Also she is super hot, basicly a blond bombshell but has that girl nextdoor attitude that Jake loves so much.
Aerian-Jake's mother. A women who cares for her children deeply and is a single mother due to her poor judgement. The father ran away leaving her with no choice but tk ask her parents to help her raise Jake and Marina. She is a modest woman but is a total MILF without knowing it.
Marina-Jake's twin sister. She and Jake have a good relationship. They argue and have the classical sibling rivalry you would expect. She is hot and often shows it off with her clothes. Her relationship with Sarah is pleasant but she always felt she had to compete with Sarah for Jake's attention when they were younger. Some of those feelings remain.
Duke-A buff guy from school who is always trying to convince Sarah to dump you. Has a trash personality. Thinks because he is the toughest guy that it makes him entiltled to the prettiest girl. Rejection never seems to convince him to quit, but at least he is smart enough not to start a fight over it.
Devon-Marina's boyfriend. The two are smitten with each other in a way that is not too dissimilar to how Jake and Sarah are. Jake has no issues with him and Devon has no problems with Jake.
Sasha-Girl who lives on the other side of the road. She is a pasty, messy girl who is into the occult. She is obsessed with the supernatural, and often tries out demon summoning rituals. Ashame most of them are made up tripe from the internet.
Stacy-Sarah's closest female friend. Also hot and is a redhead. She is a cheerleader and is secretly jealous of the relationship Sarah has with Jake, wishing that she had the same.
Succubus-The demon trapped inside the book that was released when Jake openend it and possessed Aerian. Playful and knows how to make any woman look like she was born to please a man. The succubus cannot exist alone, she needs a human body to inhabit, and she prefers women bodies exclusivly.
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College is the time to try new things, so why not try someone else? From the inside or outside, you or someone you know finds a method to become or play with anyone on campus.
You or someone else you know finds a way to possess, mind control, body swap, and more at will. Done by magic, technology, or any other method you can dream of someone on your floor makes the college their playground, and the semester is just getting started.
CHARACTERS
You - The main character and POV. Unfortunately, your best friend transferred out of state, leaving your housing plans in a lurch. You lucked out getting the lone single on the floor at the end of the hall.
Veronica - Jane's friend and roommate. Veronica is your stereotypical goth, short with a thick body, large boobs, and black hair and clothes. She is deeply into the occult and all things magic. Works as a stagehand for the school musical. No current partner.
Jane - Veronica's friend and roommate. One of the leads in the school play, she is of average height and build, with an amazing singing voice. Always the actor, she enjoys roleplaying and the thrill of pretending to be someone else. No current partner, although she does hook up with other students in the musical fairly frequently.
Andre - Erics friend and roommate. On the collegiate swim and dive team, he is taller than Eric with a long and lean swimmers body. He and Amy have been going somewhat steady, although they have not made it official.
Eric - Andres friend and roommate. Standing around 6'2" and built like a brick house, he plays linebacker for the schools football team. He doesn't currently have a girlfriend, but seems to have a new partner in his bed every few days.
Mia - Amy's friend and roommate. Pretty much the opposite of Veronica, she is tall, instagram gorgeous, overly bubbly, and as a sorority member pretty much always wearing some shade of pink. Dating someone in a fraternity.
Amy - Mia's friend and roommate. Amy plays for the school's soccer team, complimenting her above average height frame with strong legs and six-pack abs. Competitive, focused, and dedicated, she always seems to be headed off to training or study hall. Going somewhat steady with Andre, but has not made it official.
Daniel - Kevin's friend and roommate. Insanely brilliant, he and Kevin work in a tech lab on campus doing work you can never quite understand. Just below average in height, he is surprisingly fit due to his background in martial arts and loves doing cosplay. Currently dating someone he met at a cosplay convention.
Kevin - Daniel's friend and roommate. Also incredibly brilliant and works with Kevin in the tech lab on campus. Tall, lanky, and wears glasses. Does cosplay with Daniel, and sometimes even goes to the gym with him, but is overall fairly unathletic. No current relationship, but seems to have a crush on Veronica.
SETTING & WORLD
The story takes place at your states college. Due to a mix-up in the schools housing assignment software, you and the listed characters have all been randomly assigned to the same dorm floor. While the fun may start on your floor, there is a whole college campus and thousands of people to explore.
You or someone else you know finds a way to possess, mind control, body swap, and more at will. Done by magic, technology, or any other method you can dream of someone on your floor makes the college their playground, and the semester is just getting started.
CHARACTERS
You - The main character and POV. Unfortunately, your best friend transferred out of state, leaving your housing plans in a lurch. You lucked out getting the lone single on the floor at the end of the hall.
Veronica - Jane's friend and roommate. Veronica is your stereotypical goth, short with a thick body, large boobs, and black hair and clothes. She is deeply into the occult and all things magic. Works as a stagehand for the school musical. No current partner.
Jane - Veronica's friend and roommate. One of the leads in the school play, she is of average height and build, with an amazing singing voice. Always the actor, she enjoys roleplaying and the thrill of pretending to be someone else. No current partner, although she does hook up with other students in the musical fairly frequently.
Andre - Erics friend and roommate. On the collegiate swim and dive team, he is taller than Eric with a long and lean swimmers body. He and Amy have been going somewhat steady, although they have not made it official.
Eric - Andres friend and roommate. Standing around 6'2" and built like a brick house, he plays linebacker for the schools football team. He doesn't currently have a girlfriend, but seems to have a new partner in his bed every few days.
Mia - Amy's friend and roommate. Pretty much the opposite of Veronica, she is tall, instagram gorgeous, overly bubbly, and as a sorority member pretty much always wearing some shade of pink. Dating someone in a fraternity.
Amy - Mia's friend and roommate. Amy plays for the school's soccer team, complimenting her above average height frame with strong legs and six-pack abs. Competitive, focused, and dedicated, she always seems to be headed off to training or study hall. Going somewhat steady with Andre, but has not made it official.
Daniel - Kevin's friend and roommate. Insanely brilliant, he and Kevin work in a tech lab on campus doing work you can never quite understand. Just below average in height, he is surprisingly fit due to his background in martial arts and loves doing cosplay. Currently dating someone he met at a cosplay convention.
Kevin - Daniel's friend and roommate. Also incredibly brilliant and works with Kevin in the tech lab on campus. Tall, lanky, and wears glasses. Does cosplay with Daniel, and sometimes even goes to the gym with him, but is overall fairly unathletic. No current relationship, but seems to have a crush on Veronica.
SETTING & WORLD
The story takes place at your states college. Due to a mix-up in the schools housing assignment software, you and the listed characters have all been randomly assigned to the same dorm floor. While the fun may start on your floor, there is a whole college campus and thousands of people to explore.
251
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Losely based on the game 'Horny Villa', but with a magical twist inspired by "Cumunji", written by Vexenfox
(I am still refining this adventure so it is possible things change over time.)
A place for people to gather and have fun, you made the villa as a retreat from reality, literally. After some pestering of your friends, you added a dash of magic.
You're not turning this villa in a full blown whorehouse (YET) , but a little horny magic here, a little perverse trick there, you get it.
Welcome to the Villa!
CHARACTERS
- You (Matt) - Owner of the Villa, average looks, average build. The whole 'faceless protagonist'-special.
- Jimmy - One of your best friends, he is a massive pervert, but has a good heart. Has always been a massive gamer. Now agent of chaos in your villa, he tries to run the whole thing on porn logic. The scary thing is, it works more than it should.
- Abby - She is what you would describe as a lady in the streets, an animal in the sheets. Her ginger hair has been neatly cut into a bob. She is very polite and shy, but if she is turned on she turns into one of the most aggressive subs you have ever seen.
She has a large natural rack, and fairly large hips.
- Eleanore - She has always been interested in everything and was the first of the girls who considered moving in. She is of average built. She has decent breasts and a fit figure. Her black hair has a blueish sheen to it. She always wares some mystical symbol on her person, a necklace or bracelet most of the time.
- Gemma - A free spirited skater girl with a penchant for chaos. She has an average built, decent chest and sporty legs. Her blonde hair is usually tied in a ponytail.
- Zoey - She is the resident airhead with a mean streak. She likes taking things that are not hers, especially boyfriends. She is a sporty petite with neon green hair with pink highlights.
- Debbie - A late arrival, they are always concerned about how they look, you think they might marry their mirror image.
SETTING & WORLD
The story is mainly set in your Villa, an extra dimensional pocket-plane. Most girls and boys in this story do not know about the villa's magic, but they will learn about it soon enough.
(I am still refining this adventure so it is possible things change over time.)
A place for people to gather and have fun, you made the villa as a retreat from reality, literally. After some pestering of your friends, you added a dash of magic.
You're not turning this villa in a full blown whorehouse (YET) , but a little horny magic here, a little perverse trick there, you get it.
Welcome to the Villa!
CHARACTERS
- You (Matt) - Owner of the Villa, average looks, average build. The whole 'faceless protagonist'-special.
- Jimmy - One of your best friends, he is a massive pervert, but has a good heart. Has always been a massive gamer. Now agent of chaos in your villa, he tries to run the whole thing on porn logic. The scary thing is, it works more than it should.
- Abby - She is what you would describe as a lady in the streets, an animal in the sheets. Her ginger hair has been neatly cut into a bob. She is very polite and shy, but if she is turned on she turns into one of the most aggressive subs you have ever seen.
She has a large natural rack, and fairly large hips.
- Eleanore - She has always been interested in everything and was the first of the girls who considered moving in. She is of average built. She has decent breasts and a fit figure. Her black hair has a blueish sheen to it. She always wares some mystical symbol on her person, a necklace or bracelet most of the time.
- Gemma - A free spirited skater girl with a penchant for chaos. She has an average built, decent chest and sporty legs. Her blonde hair is usually tied in a ponytail.
- Zoey - She is the resident airhead with a mean streak. She likes taking things that are not hers, especially boyfriends. She is a sporty petite with neon green hair with pink highlights.
- Debbie - A late arrival, they are always concerned about how they look, you think they might marry their mirror image.
SETTING & WORLD
The story is mainly set in your Villa, an extra dimensional pocket-plane. Most girls and boys in this story do not know about the villa's magic, but they will learn about it soon enough.
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Kent is young guy that has to spend the summer paying off his debt after accidentally damaging his bitch of a neighbour Julie’s car while playing a game with his friend Marcus. Kent resigns himself to working as Julie’s glorified servant, that is until he finds an odd looking idol that allows him to possess her body. Now with a summer of freedom ahead and Julie’s hot body to do with as he pleases, Kent is looking forward to making up for lost time and having some fun.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
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This story tells you about a couple, a teenager named Liam and his redheaded girlfriend named Chloe who can't stop regenerating herself after sex.
Liam lay on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation as he watched Chloe, his gorgeous redheaded girlfriend, saunter towards him. Her naked body was a vision of perfection, her E-cup tits bouncing gently with each step. She giggled, seeing the hunger in his eyes.
"Well, looks like someone's eager," Chloe teased, her voice a sweet melody that sent shivers down Liam's spine.
Liam grinned, his cock already hard and ready. "Always for you, Chloe. I've been waiting for you."
Chloe climbed onto the bed, her body straddling his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft, gentle caress that quickly deepened into a passionate, hungry dance. Liam's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs.
Chloe moaned softly, her body pressing against his as she felt his hard cock against her stomach. She reached down, her hand wrapping around his length as she guided him to her entrance. With a soft sigh, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely.
Liam groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet her as they began to move together. Chloe's body was a perfect fit for his, her pussy wet and tight as it clenched around him. He reached up, his hands cupping her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
Chloe threw her head back, her red hair cascading down her back as she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that."
Liam thrust harder, his body moving in a fast, urgent rhythm. Chloe met each thrust, her body bouncing against his as their moans filled the room. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like music to their ears, a symphony of their love and passion.
Liam could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge. Chloe seemed to sense it too, her body clenching around him as she moaned louder.
"Cum with me, Liam," she gasped, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
With a final thrust, Liam cried out, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot cum filling Chloe completely. Chloe screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm.
But as their bodies shook with the intensity of their climax, something strange began to happen. Chloe's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
Suddenly, Chloe screamed, her body convulsing with a different kind of force. Liam watched in shock as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her hair darkening and lengthening, her face morphing into that of a stranger.
The glow faded, and in place of Chloe was a middle-aged British woman with massive O-cup tits and a body that was both familiar and alien. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked around in confusion.
"Blimey, what was that?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement. She looked down at Liam, her eyes widening in surprise. "Liam! You silly boy, what are you doing down there? I didn't know you were here. Silly me."
Liam stared up at her, his mouth open in shock. "Chloe? Wha... what happened to you?"
The woman, who was once Chloe, giggled, her large breasts bouncing with the movement. "Chloe? Who's Chloe? It's me, Beatrice, you silly boy. Have you been playing games with me again?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
"Beatrice?" he said, his voice hesitant. "You... you don't remember?"
Beatrice giggled again, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Remember what, silly? I'm your girlfriend, Beatrice. Been with you for donkey's years. Now come on, out you get. A lady needs her space after such a... Such whatever that was."
Liam pulled out of her, his cock still hard, still glistening with their combined juices. Beatrice looked down at it, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Well, would you look at that," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "Aren't you an eager little beaver?"
Liam grinned, his heart pounding with a mix of lust and excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that something incredible and impossible had just happened. But he also knew that he wanted her, this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe.
He leaned up, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Beatrice gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Beatrice looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about her boyfriend. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Liam... baby... slow down,... we... we can't..." she moaned, even as her body pressed against his. "I've still not quite sure what's going on."
Liam didn't listen. He just pulled her close, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down to her pussy.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Mmm... yes, Liam. Yes, touch me. Touch me there."
Liam slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling her clit as he began to fuck her with his hand. Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building again, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
"Cum with me, Beatrice," he gasped, his body shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
Beatrice screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their breaths coming in quick gasps, Liam knew that something incredible had happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. But he also knew that he couldn't deny the love and passion he felt for this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe. And he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his, forever.
As they laid there, their bodies entwined and their hearts pounding with a mix of love and lust, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And he was more than ready for it. Whatever it may bring.
Liam lay on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation as he watched Chloe, his gorgeous redheaded girlfriend, saunter towards him. Her naked body was a vision of perfection, her E-cup tits bouncing gently with each step. She giggled, seeing the hunger in his eyes.
"Well, looks like someone's eager," Chloe teased, her voice a sweet melody that sent shivers down Liam's spine.
Liam grinned, his cock already hard and ready. "Always for you, Chloe. I've been waiting for you."
Chloe climbed onto the bed, her body straddling his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft, gentle caress that quickly deepened into a passionate, hungry dance. Liam's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs.
Chloe moaned softly, her body pressing against his as she felt his hard cock against her stomach. She reached down, her hand wrapping around his length as she guided him to her entrance. With a soft sigh, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely.
Liam groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet her as they began to move together. Chloe's body was a perfect fit for his, her pussy wet and tight as it clenched around him. He reached up, his hands cupping her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
Chloe threw her head back, her red hair cascading down her back as she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that."
Liam thrust harder, his body moving in a fast, urgent rhythm. Chloe met each thrust, her body bouncing against his as their moans filled the room. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like music to their ears, a symphony of their love and passion.
Liam could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge. Chloe seemed to sense it too, her body clenching around him as she moaned louder.
"Cum with me, Liam," she gasped, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
With a final thrust, Liam cried out, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot cum filling Chloe completely. Chloe screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm.
But as their bodies shook with the intensity of their climax, something strange began to happen. Chloe's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
Suddenly, Chloe screamed, her body convulsing with a different kind of force. Liam watched in shock as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her hair darkening and lengthening, her face morphing into that of a stranger.
The glow faded, and in place of Chloe was a middle-aged British woman with massive O-cup tits and a body that was both familiar and alien. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked around in confusion.
"Blimey, what was that?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement. She looked down at Liam, her eyes widening in surprise. "Liam! You silly boy, what are you doing down there? I didn't know you were here. Silly me."
Liam stared up at her, his mouth open in shock. "Chloe? Wha... what happened to you?"
The woman, who was once Chloe, giggled, her large breasts bouncing with the movement. "Chloe? Who's Chloe? It's me, Beatrice, you silly boy. Have you been playing games with me again?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
"Beatrice?" he said, his voice hesitant. "You... you don't remember?"
Beatrice giggled again, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Remember what, silly? I'm your girlfriend, Beatrice. Been with you for donkey's years. Now come on, out you get. A lady needs her space after such a... Such whatever that was."
Liam pulled out of her, his cock still hard, still glistening with their combined juices. Beatrice looked down at it, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Well, would you look at that," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "Aren't you an eager little beaver?"
Liam grinned, his heart pounding with a mix of lust and excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that something incredible and impossible had just happened. But he also knew that he wanted her, this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe.
He leaned up, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Beatrice gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Beatrice looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about her boyfriend. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Liam... baby... slow down,... we... we can't..." she moaned, even as her body pressed against his. "I've still not quite sure what's going on."
Liam didn't listen. He just pulled her close, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down to her pussy.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Mmm... yes, Liam. Yes, touch me. Touch me there."
Liam slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling her clit as he began to fuck her with his hand. Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building again, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
"Cum with me, Beatrice," he gasped, his body shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
Beatrice screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their breaths coming in quick gasps, Liam knew that something incredible had happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. But he also knew that he couldn't deny the love and passion he felt for this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe. And he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his, forever.
As they laid there, their bodies entwined and their hearts pounding with a mix of love and lust, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And he was more than ready for it. Whatever it may bring.
A female who acquired ability to shapeshift. To get closer to her crush she becoming his girlfriend and made in love with him.
When she thought everything is wrong she leaves him. However in her way she ended up in the wrong crowd that she's not supposed to get involved with.
I stood in front of the mirror, examining every detail. The curve of her lips, the way her dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders, the faint freckles dotting her nose. Lena. His girlfriend. The woman whose life I was about to borrow for a night.
My skin tingled as I focused, my muscles shifting beneath the surface, bones adjusting with an almost imperceptible crackle. The transformation was always strange—like slipping into a second skin that wasn’t mine. But I’d done this before. Too many times, if I was being honest.
I exhaled, smoothing my hands—no, her hands—down the soft fabric of her favorite jeans and the loose, cream-colored sweater I’d pulled from her closet earlier. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut, but I pushed it down. This was for him. Only for him.
---
The knock on his door made my breath hitch. Three sharp raps, just like Lena always did. I could hear his footsteps inside, the muffled curse of surprise when he saw me through the peephole.
The door swung open, and there he was—Dylan. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his gray T-shirt was wrinkled in that effortlessly perfect way only he could pull off. His eyes widened.
"Lena?" he said, blinking. "I thought you left for your trip?"
I bit her lip the way she always did when she was nervous. "I canceled it," I said, my voice an exact replica of hers—soft, melodic. "I… I just missed you too much."
Dylan stared at me, confusion flickering across his face before dissolving into warmth. He stepped aside. "You’re insane," he murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You were supposed to be gone for a week."
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. The apartment smelled like him—warm, a little musky, with the faintest hint of coffee. Familiar. Safe.
"I changed my mind," I said, brushing past him, my fingers trailing over his arm. "Don’t you want me here?"
His breath caught, and I felt a thrill run through me. This was the game. I knew how Lena touched him, how she spoke to him, how she loved him. And tonight, I’d be better than her.
Dylan’s hands settled on my waist as he turned me toward him, his gaze searching my face. "Of course I want you here," he murmured. "But you never cancel plans. Especially not for me."
I let out a quiet laugh—hers, not mine. "Maybe I’m trying to be different," I said, tilting my head. My fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, letting my touch linger just a little longer than necessary.
He exhaled, the resistance in his shoulders melting under my touch. "You’re gonna make it really hard to focus on the game tonight,” he teased.
"Good," I whispered, leaning in.
Our lips met, and I forced myself to lose in the rhythm of her. The way she kissed—gentle at first, then hungrier. Dylan responded instantly, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
I hated this. Every second of it. The press of his mouth, the warmth of his hands sliding up my back, the insistence of his body against mine. But he loved it. And that was all that mattered.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, he grinned. "Damn. If this is what happens when you cancel trips, I might have to start sabotaging your suitcase."
I laughed—the sound perfectly hers, perfectly convincing—and let him lead me toward the couch, where I knew the night would only grow more intimate.
And as much as it twisted something inside me, I’d keep pretending. Because seeing him happy, seeing him hers, was all I ever wanted—even if it meant I’d never really be the one he loved.
....
The sun was setting as I sat cross-legged on the floor of my apartment, surrounded by layers of clothing heaped in disarray—her wardrobe, meticulously recreated down to the last stitch. I had spent months watching her, memorizing the way she moved, the way she spoke, even the way she laughed—soft and breathy, as if she were constantly on the verge of a secret.
It wasn’t just her face I had to mimic. It was her soul.
A knock at the door startled me.
Shifting back to myself had always felt like shedding a second skin—my body reforming into my natural curves, my dark curls springing free. I yanked open the door to find my neighbor, Mrs. Langley, standing there with a suspicious squint.
"Heather, you alright in there? Hearin’ all sorts of rustlin’."
I forced a smile. "Just reorganizing, mom. You know how it is."
She hummed, unconvinced, but shuffled off with a grumble.
Heather. That was the name I had given myself when I moved here. Safe. Unassuming. Not the girl who could become anyone else.
I smoothed my hands down my sides, swallowed hard, and closed my eyes. The shift came easier now, like shrugging into a familiar coat. My skin tingled, warming as muscle and bone reordered beneath it. My fingers lengthened, my hips softened, my nose reshaped into the delicate upturn of myself again.
When I opened my eyes again, I become myself again stared back at me from the mirror.
Heather had always been strategic with her ability. She never used it frivolously—only when an opportunity was too tempting to ignore. But this wasn’t just any opportunity. This was Dylan. The man who had consumed her thoughts for years, with his easy laughter and the way his dark eyes crinkled when he smiled. For so long, she had watched from afar, aching for something she could never truly have—until now.
Lena, his girlfriend, was away on a two-week business trip, leaving Dylan alone in their shared apartment. Heather had waited until nightfall, lingering outside until she saw the lights flick off in the bedroom window. Then, with a deep breath, she shifted.
It started at the base of her spine, a slow unspooling warmth that traveled through her limbs, her skin prickling as it stretched and reshaped itself into Lena’s softer curves. Her cheekbones lifted, her hips rounded, her fingers thinned—every detail mattered. She even adjusted her gait, matching Lena’s light, precise steps as she crossed the street.
The key under the flowerpot was still there, just as Lena had mentioned to a friend weeks ago. Heather’s heart hammered against her ribs as she turned it in the lock.
The apartment was quiet, lit only by the blue glow of the television. Dylan was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, his bare chest rising and falling in slow rhythm.
And that's how it started...
....
The next few hours were a blur of tangled limbs, whispered words, and the kind of intimacy Heather had only ever dreamed of. She hated the way her stomach twisted with guilt, hated the way her own pleasure was tangled up in the lie—but god, the way he touched her. The way he whispered Lena’s name against her skin.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and she fell asleep curled against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
When Heather woke, sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the tangled sheets. She shifted slightly—and froze.
Her own hands.
She bolted upright, panic searing through her veins. No, no, no— She had shifted back in her sleep. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, her own familiar frame unmistakable.
Dylan stirred beside her, still deep in sleep, one arm slung lazily over the empty space where Lena should have been.
Heather scrambled out of bed, her pulse hammering. If he woke up now—if he saw her—
She clenched her fists, focusing, and felt the shift ripple over her again. The relief was instant as Lena’s features returned, but the terror lingered. She couldn’t stay.
Moving fast, she gathered her scattered clothes, dressed in silence, and scribbled a note in Lena’s looping handwriting:
"Had to leave early—miss you already. Call you tonight."
She placed it on the pillow beside Dylan’s head, stealing one last glance at him before slipping out the door.
....
A diner a few blocks away provided temporary refuge. Heather slid into a corner booth, her hands trembling around a steaming mug of coffee. The reality of what she’d done settled heavy in her chest.
This wasn’t like her other little games—posing as a stranger for an hour, mimicking a co-worker to avoid confrontation. This was Dylan. And she had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.
But even as guilt gnawed at her, another thought slithered in:
Dylan had wanted her.
Or at least, he had wanted the version of her she had given him. She took a slow sip of coffee, her reflection staring back at her in warped distortion against the diner window.
What happens when Lena comes home?
And worse.
What happens if Dylan wants her to stay?
The diner’s bell jingled as Heather pushed through the door, the cold evening air biting at her skin. She pulled her jacket tighter, her thoughts still tangled with the weight of what she had done with Dylan. The coffee had done little to calm her nerves.
She turned down a dimly lit side street, the glow of streetlights flickering against the damp pavement. That’s when she saw them—a group of men, moving in hushed murmurs toward a narrow alley tucked between two weathered brick buildings.
Something about their demeanor set off a warning in the back of her mind. Shoulders hunched, collars pulled up, quick glances over their shoulders as if checking for pursuers.
This isn’t right.
Heather hesitated at the mouth of the alley, her pulse quickening. She should walk away. She should call the cops and let them handle it.
But curiosity was always her downfall.
She slipped into the shadows, pressing close to the wall as she followed them deeper into the alley, her footsteps silent against the cracked concrete. They stopped in front of a rusted metal door half-hidden under peeling graffiti. Above it, a dull red sign flickered:
MALES ONLY.
A muscle in Heather’s jaw twitched. Of course.
The men rapped a quick pattern on the door—three knocks, a pause, then two more. It creaked open, spilling a sliver of neon light onto the ground before swallowing them whole.
The door thudded shut behind them. Locked.
Heather exhaled sharply, weighing her options.
If this was some kind of underground smuggling ring, she should report it. But what if it was just some stupid exclusive party? A gathering for rich, obnoxious dudes who liked to pretend they were part of some secret society?
Her lips curled. Either way, she was getting in.
She ducked behind a dumpster, pulling in a slow breath. Shift or stay?
Shift.
She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar hum beneath her skin as bones realigned, muscles thickened, shoulders broadened. When she blinked, her reflection in a nearby puddle showed Dylan’s sharp jawline, his tousled dark hair—his face.
Good enough.
Approaching the door, she lifted her hand and mimicked the knock—three, pause, two.
A slot scraped open at eye level, revealing a pair of narrowed, shadowed eyes.
“Password?” the voice grunted.
Heather’s stomach plummeted. Shit.
She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Forcing Dylan’s easy confidence, she smirked. “C’mon, man. I just stepped out for a smoke. You really gonna make me say it again?”
Silence. Then—
The door swung open.
The bass hit her first—deep, throbbing, rattling up through the floorboards. Dim red lights pulsed in time with the music, casting long shadows over the crowded room. Men packed the space, some in sleek suits, others in leather jackets, all of them holding glasses of liquor that gleamed like liquid amber.
But it wasn’t just a party.
Against the far wall stood a row of cages—and inside them, women.
Heather’s breath stopped.
The air inside the basement was thick with sweat and the cloying scent of whiskey and arousal. Heather—still wearing Dylan’s form—stood frozen, her stomach churning as she took in the surreal horror unfolding around her.
Possession Club. It said on the screen.
There are women in cages weren’t just captives.
They were hosts.
The man on the stage, slick-haired and grinning like a carnival barker, gestured toward the cages with a flourish. "Another successful week for our members! Fifty-four possessions total—twenty sexual engagements, thirty-two solo performances, and even two lovely ladies who grew very familiar with each other!" The men around Heather erupted in laughter and cheers, raising their glasses.
Then the speaker’s eyes flicked to a woman crouched at the edge of the stage, her green bikini damp between her thighs as her fingers worked furiously at her own pussy. She didn’t seem to care that everyone was staring—her moans were loud, shameless, her hips bucking as she came right there in front of them.
"Ah, Sarah," the man on stage chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Still can’t control herself, I see."
Pulling her fingers free with a slick pop, the woman—Sarah—giggled, bouncing her breasts as she blew him a kiss. "Sorry~" she panted, not sounding sorry at all. "You know how pent-up I get when I’m not being used."
It was like watching a pornographic nightmare.
Heather’s skin crawled.
Suddenly, a mechanical groan filled the room as the speaker pulled a lever on the wall. The brick facade behind him split open, revealing a long hallway lined with glass rooms—each containing a different woman. Some writhed on beds, touching themselves. Others knelt obediently, waiting.
"Bookings are now open!" the man announced, waving a stack of plastic keycards. "Members with prior reservations, you know the drill. Newcomers—get your cards at the desk and pick your poison!"
The crowd surged forward, men jostling each other as they lined up to claim their "slots." Heather stumbled back, bumping into someone.
"Easy there, pal," a beefy guy in a leather vest drawled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "First time? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
Before Heather could respond, a commotion near the hallway entrance caught her attention. A wiry man in glasses downed a small pill, grinning as two burly men dragged a struggling woman toward him.
"P-Please, no! I don’t—I don’t want this!" the woman sobbed, kicking wildly. Heather’s fists clenched.
Then it happened.
The man in glasses shuddered—his form flickering like a TV with bad reception—before his entire body seemed to dissolve into mist. The smoky tendrils coiled through the air before plunging straight into the screaming woman’s mouth.
Her body convulsed.
Shaking. Twitching. Legs kicking as her back arched violently—
—and then, stillness.
Her eyes snapped open.
Glowing.
Slowly, a lazy, entirely male smirk spread across her lips. She—he—lifted a hand and groped her breast, squeezing hard with a chuckle. "Damn, this body is tight."
The crowd roared in approval. Heather was going to be sick. She turned and shoved her way toward the exit, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
They’re not just imprisoning women.
They’re stealing them.
And now, disguised as Dylan, she was trapped in a room full of monsters—with no idea how to get out.
The crowd pressed in around Heather like a living, breathing wall—hot, suffocating, reeking of alcohol and sweat. She shoved through, her shoulder knocking against a man’s chest, her elbow jostling another’s drink. Apologies died in her throat. She needed to get out.
But fate had other plans.
Her foot caught on something—a loose floorboard, someone’s outstretched leg—and she lurched forward, crashing straight into the man who had been on stage.
He steadied her with a grip like iron, his slick grin never faltering. Up close, his eyes were dark, calculating, the kind of gaze that peeled back layers without permission.
"Well, well," he purred, tilting his head. "Don’t recognize you. You new?"
Heather’s pulse hammered in her throat. She forced Dylan’s voice—low.. "Nah, just… been a while."
The man laughed, fingers tightening on her shoulder in a mock-friendly squeeze. "Bullshit. You’ve got that deer-in-headlights look all the newbies get." He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Relax. You’re among friends here."
Friends.
The word curdled in her gut as her gaze flicked past him—to the glass rooms where women lay sprawled, their bodies puppeteered by unseen invaders.
The man—the ringleader—stepped back, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to the club, brother. This is a sacred space. A place where men like us don’t just take pleasure…" His grin turned feral. "We become it."
He clapped her on the back like they were old pals. Heather’s skin crawled.
"Rules are simple," he continued, steering her toward the bar despite her stiff resistance. "What happens here stays here. If some nosy bitch catches wind and tries to run to the cops?" He chuckled, pouring a glass of amber liquor and sliding it toward her. "We reward her. Give her the ride of her life—permanently."
The threat hung in the air, thick as the bass vibrating through the floor.
Heather swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the glass. She needed to leave. Now.
"I, uh—I actually gotta bounce," she muttered, setting the drink down untouched. "Forgot I got shit to do—"
The ringleader’s hand clamped down on her wrist. "Nonsense." His smile never wavered, but his eyes turned glacial. "You just got here. And I insist you try before you go."
From his pocket, he produced a small vial—inside, tiny pills shimmered like crushed pearls.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
Possession pills.
"Go on," he urged, shaking one into her palm. "First one’s free."
The pill sat there, innocuous, deadly. Around her, the club pulsed with grotesque energy—men laughing, women moaning, bodies moving in ways that weren’t theirs.
She was outnumbered.
Outmatched.
And if she didn’t play along—she’d never make it out alive.
Heather’s fingers trembled around the pill, her mind racing for an escape. The dim, flickering lights of the private room made everything feel surreal—like she was trapped in some grotesque nightmare. The girl on the bed continued to writhe, her legs spread obscenely wide as she gazed at them with heavy-lidded eyes.
The ringleader smirked at Heather’s hesitation. "First-timer jitters. I get it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the girl. "Meet your instructor. Well, not really—the guy inside her is."
Heather’s jaw clenched. The way he spoke about it so casually, as if this were some kind of twisted mentorship program, made her skin crawl.
The girl on the bed giggled—inhumanly deep, wrong. Then, in a voice that didn’t match her delicate frame, she spoke. "Sup, newbie."
A shudder raced down Heather’s spine.
The ringleader smirked. "This fucker’s got the highest possession count in the club. Every girl in his school, every teacher, his best friend’s mom—name it, he’s been inside." He clapped Heather hard on the back. "He’s gonna show you the ropes."
With that, he turned and left, the lock clicking ominously behind him.
The moment the door sealed, the girl on the bed convulsed, her back arching as a thick, smokey mist forced itself out of her mouth. The specter lingered in the air for a second before condensing back into human form—a lanky, smirking guy in his early twenties, wearing a cocky grin that made Heather’s fists itch.
The girl collapsed onto the bed, gasping, her eyes wide and dazed. "W-Where…?" She clutched the sheets, disoriented.
He ignored her, stepping toward Heather—Dylan’s form—with an assessing gaze. "Alright, Dylan. Let’s get you started."
Heather forced Dylan’s voice, trying to steady it. "How… does this even work?"
The possessor smirked, plucking the pill from her palm and holding it up between two fingers. "Pop one of these, and boom—you’re a ghost. You can slip into any chick you want. No resistance, no fighting back. Just pure control." His grin widened. "But here’s the catch."
He tossed the pill back into her hand. "One pill lasts 24 hours. If you don’t take another before time runs out? Congrats—you’re stuck forever. No refunds."
A cold sweat broke out on the back of Heather’s neck.
The girl on the bed whimpered, trying to scoot back. "P-Please… just let me go…"
The possessor didn’t even glance at her. "Lesson one: Don’t get attached. They’re just shells. Our shells."
His fingers flicked out, snatching the pill back from Heather. Before she could react, he shoved it into the girl’s mouth, clamping his hand over her lips until she choked it down.
Then, like smoke through a crack, his body dissolved, swirling violently before surging back into her.
The girl’s body jerked, her pupils dilating unnaturally as his voice slithered out of her lips.
"Now," he purred, running a hand up her thigh, "let’s practice."
Horror coiled in Heather’s gut.
She had to get out.
Before she became the lesson.
"I'm not doing this," Heather growled, her voice trembling as she took a step back.
The girl's face—possessed by that leering bastard—twisted in confusion. "What the hell do you mean, no?" The throaty, masculine chuckle that slithered out of her delicate lips sent a wave of revulsion through Heather. "Dude, that's why you're here, ain't it?"
Heather's fists clenched at her sides, Dylan's borrowed body tense with barely restrained panic. "I changed my mind. I'm out."
She spun toward the locked door, desperation burning in her veins. The metallic click of the latch mocked her—no way out without a key. Her lungs tightened. Think, think, think—
A hand seized her wrist, yanking her backward. "Oh, hell no. You ain't goin' anywhere."
Heather twisted, wrenching free. "Get off—"
Her feet caught on the edge of the bed’s tangled sheets.
Time slowed.
She flailed, but gravity won.
Her temple slammed into the dresser’s sharp corner—a white-hot crack of pain—and then—
—everything unraveled.
A sickening warmth pooled beneath her skin, muscles writhing as bones snapped back into place. Curves reemerged. Height dissolved. Dylan’s broad shoulders melted into her own slender frame, his clothes suddenly baggy, drowning her.
The world swayed as she slumped to her knees, blinking through the haze.
She was herself again.
The girl on the bed—no, the man inside her—gaped. "What the—?"
Heather’s stomach plummeted.
No.
She reached up, fingers grazing the familiar shape of her own face—soft cheeks, full lips, her hair. Dylan’s borrowed form was gone.
The possessed girl’s expression morphed from shock to greedy fascination. A slow, vile grin split her face. "Well, well. A shapeshifter." He let out a low whistle. "Now that’s a rarity."
Heather scrambled back, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Stay away from me."
The girl—no, the thing wearing her—laughed, crawling off the bed in a way too predatory to be human. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you just became the main attraction."
The door rattled—the sound of a key turning.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
The lock clicked.
The pounding on the door was relentless.
"Yo, everything alright in there? Sounded like a damn fight!"
Inside the dimly lit room, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and something metallic—fear, desperation, the charged energy of a predator circling its prey.
The girl’s body—possessed by the grinning bastard who now knew Heather’s secret—rolled her eyes and called back, voice slick with amusement.
"Relax, man, just having too much fun in here!"
The lie dripped with the confidence of someone used to getting his way. The muffled chuckle from the other side of the door confirmed they bought it. Footsteps receded, leaving Heather alone with the monster standing between her and escape.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She was trapped.
Worse—she’d given herself away.
The man inside the girl cocked his head, eyes glinting in the dim light as he raked his gaze over Heather’s trembling form.
"You know," he mused, stepping closer, "I’ve seen some crazy shit in this club, but a shapeshifter? That’s a first." He grinned. "And damn if you don’t have a fine body to go with it."
Heather’s back hit the wall. Cold brick bit into her skin through own too-big shirt. She had no weapons. No backup.
And he knew exactly what she was.
The possessed girl stretched, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off a cramp. "Alright, here’s how this is gonna go." She—he—ticked the points off on delicate fingers:
1. "You don’t scream."
2. "You don’t fight."
3. "And maybe, just maybe, I don’t tell the guys outside you’re a walking, talking party trick they can all take for a spin."
He stepped closer, close enough that Heather could see the unnatural gleam in the girl’s eyes—too sharp, too male for the soft features they were trapped in.
"What do you say, shapeshifter girl? Deal?"
Heather spat in his face.
The girl’s head snapped back—but then the laugh came, low and dark. A slow swipe of her thumb wiped the saliva away, and when those eyes locked onto Heather again, they were hungry.
"Should’ve taken the deal."
Then— A gasp. A shudder.
The girl’s body convulsed, back arching violently as a thick, black mist spewed from her lips. It coiled in the air like smoke, twisting, seething— And then it lunged for Heather.
Cold.
That was her first thought.
It felt like drowning in ice water, like freezing fingers clawing down her throat, filling her lungs, her veins, her bones. Heather gagged, her body buckling under the invasion. Her vision swam—blurred—
And then came the pressure.
Pushing. Squeezing.
Something inside her screamed as the man’s presence forced its way in, tendrils of his will latching onto her nerves, her muscles, her thoughts— Heather’s fists clenched, nails biting into her palms.
*Get. Out.*
Her lips moved, words trembling. "You... can’t... have me." A scoff echoed in her skull—his voice, smug and condescending.
"Oh sweetheart, I already do."
And then— *Pain.*
Her right hand moved on its own, jerking up to claw at her own throat. Heather choked. Stop it—STOP IT— Her traitorous fingers tightened. Dark spots danced in her vision. Laughter, thick and cruel, vibrated through her bones.
"Fight all you want." A phantom tongue licked her lips from the inside. "But this body’s mine now."
Heather collapsed to her knees, gasping. It was like being locked in a glass box inside her own head—able to see, to feel, but powerless to stop what came next. Her hands lifted—not hers, his—and skimmed up her sides, groping, squeezing, testing.
"Damn, you weren’t kidding about this body." He cupped her breasts through the fabric, thumbs rolling her nipples until they pebbled tight. A groan rattled through her throat—his pleasure, not hers.
Tears burned her eyes as her own fingers hooked into the collar of Dylan’s shirt and yanked. Buttons popped, clattering to the floor. Cool air kissed her exposed skin.
"Yeah... that’s better."
Hands—her hands—palmed her bare tits, kneading with rough appreciation. "Fuck, these are perfect." His laughter slithered under her skin. "Bet you’ve made guys lose their minds with these, huh?"
Heather squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Then—
Her fingers trailed lower. Over her stomach.
Down, down—
She thrashed internally, screaming, pleading, but it was no use. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. And when her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, when they found the slick heat between her legs—
It was his voice that moaned.
It was his will that made her cum.
That was the first sound—ragged, satisfied breaths filling the silence of the room. Heather’s body slumped against the wall, spent, trembling. The man inside her stretched lazily, arching her back with a groan.
"Damn, that was good."
Heather lay sprawled on the cold basement floor, her body slick with sweat and trembling from the forced release he had wrung from her. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, every heartbeat an exhausted throb of humiliation.
The bastard inside her wasn’t done.
Her hands—his hands—groped her breasts again, squeezing with possessive delight as he laughed in her mind.
"Fuck, I could get used to this."
Her fingers pinched her nipples hard enough to make her gasp—his pitiless amusement twisting her pleasure into pain. Then they trailed down her stomach again, past her navel, slipping between her thighs.
No wait—
She fought, straining against the cage of her own body, but it was no use. The first brush of fingertips against her clit was a sickening betrayal. Her own flesh pulsed in response, still sensitive from the last assault.
"You really don’t wanna enjoy this, huh?" His voice was a sneer in her skull as he circled that swollen bud, slow and taunting. "Too bad."
Heather clenched her teeth, but a helpless whimper escaped as he sped up, his touch ruthless, degrading.
"Go on, fight it," he mocked. "Bet you’ll still cum like a slut anyway." Tears burned her eyes—but her body, traitorous and weak, arched off the ground as he drove her toward another brutal orgasm.
Her back bowed.
Then—
Release.
A guttural moan tore from her lips—his victory, not hers—as her hips jerked wildly. Slick warmth gushed around his fingers, soaking her thighs, the floor beneath her. Satisfaction oozed through their shared mind like syrup.
"Damn. You’re dripping."
Her hands—his hands—lifted, fingers glistening with her own shame before he licked them clean with her tongue. "Not bad."
Before she could even recover, Heather felt her body stand—his will puppeteering her limbs like a marionette. A deep, rolling laugh bubbled up from her throat as his control forced her into motion.
Hips swaying. Ass twerking.
"Look at you," he crooned, making her slap her own rear with a sharp crack. "Made for this shit."
Humiliation burned through her like acid. She could feel it—the way he relished every second of her degradation, the way he made her body perform like some cheap stripper for his amusement.
Her stomach churned. She wanted to scream.
Then—
A pause.
"Here’s the deal," he mused, halting her gyrating hips and turning her toward the cracked mirror across the room. Heather saw herself—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide in arousal she hadn’t asked for. And then she saw her lips curl into a smirk that wasn’t hers.
"You let me ride this body for a while," he purred, running her hands up her naked sides. "Really enjoy it. And hey—maybe I’ll even make it good for you."
Her fingers tweaked her nipples again, sharp enough to make her gasp.
"Or,"—her head tilted, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper—"I could record a little video of us. Let the whole club see what a desperate little shifter looks like when she cums."
Heather’s blood turned to ice. The footage would spread. She’d never escape it. Her lips moved before she could stop them.
"Fuck. You."
A laugh—dark, amused.
"Oh, sweetheart. I plan to."
Her body moved on its own, grabbing a discarded phone from the dresser.
Camera on.
Recording.
"Say hi to the fellas, Heather."
....
The dim, flickering light of the basement room painted Heather’s sweat-slicked skin in shifting shadows. She lay sprawled on the stained mattress, her body trembling in the aftermath of another brutal climax—one of many forced upon her in what felt like an eternity of humiliation.
The phone propped nearby ticked over to four hours of recording.
Four hours.
Four hours of him using her hands, her mouth, her very soul to wring pleasure from her unwilling body.
Her thighs glistened—slick with arousal he had demanded, trembling from exhaustion.
She wanted to scream. To sob. To kill him. But her body wasn’t hers anymore.
His voice slithered through her mind, dark with amusement. "You were made for this, weren’t you?" Her lips—his to control—twisted into a mocking smirk.
Her fingers—his to command—dragged through the mess between her legs, painting her stomach with glistening streaks.
"Look at you," he purred, forcing her to tilt her hips toward the camera. "Dripping like a fucking fountain."
Heather’s breath hitched.
She hated this.
Hated him.
Hated the way her body betrayed her.
But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t stop. Her fingers circled her clit again, slow, taunting.
She braced herself.
"P-Please..." she gasped—the first word she'd managed in hours.
"Please what?" His laughter was a razor against her mind. "Tell me, Heather. Beg for it." She shut her eyes, breath ragged.
"Stop."
A pause.
Then—
A roar of laughter.
"Oh, I wish you could see yourself right now," he crooned. "So pathetic. So weak."
Her thumb pressed down—hard—and her back arched as another wave of forced pleasure tore through her.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "F-Fuck you..." she choked out. His grin was a razor in her skull.
"Already am."
Then, to her horror, she felt the familiar pull at her bones—the telltale tingle of shifting.
Skin rippled. Muscles tensed. Her own horrified gasp morphed mid-breath into— Someone else’s voice.
"Recognize her?"
The words spilled from lips that weren’t hers—soft, feminine, strange. He forced her body to crawl to the mirror. The reflection wasn’t Heather. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair, pouty lips, a body built for sin. She didn't know her. But he did.
"Jessica," he mused, making her hands skim down her new curves. "Cheer captain. Total bitch. Fucked her brains out the moment I got her alone."
Heather’s stomach turned.
A whimper—Jessica’s whimper—trembled from her throat. Then— Another shift. Hips widened. Breasts swelled.
"Sarah," he purred, running his fingers over thick thighs, a voluptuous frame. "Teacher’s pet. She cried when I took her. Best orgasm of her life."
Shift. A petite redhead.
Shift. A tanned beauty with a dancer’s grace.
His collection.
His trophies.
And now, his to make Heather wear like some sick costume.
Each shift was accompanied by forced touch—his cruel exploration of his conquests, using her body to relive his sick victories.
She wanted to vomit.
Then—suddenly—she was herself again.
Naked.
Exposed.
Trembling.
In her hands was something new—a vibrator, thick and humming with wicked intensity.
"Time for the main event," he murmured. The tip pressed against her wet, quivering pussy. She sucked in a sharp breath— Then screamed as he turned it on full power. The vibrations tore through her, ruthless and unrelenting, her hips jerking uncontrollably against the assault.
"Oh fuck—FUCK!"
Her own cry disgusted her. She hated how good it felt. Hated how her body clenched, greedy and desperate, around nothing. Hated him for making her like it.
"The more you fight, the longer this lasts," he reminded her sweetly. "Just relax, Heather. Enjoy yourself."
She bit her lip until it bled. But her body obeyed him. Spasmed for him. Came for him.
And when the wave crashed over her, when her vision whited out and her scream echoed off the walls— The camera caught it all.
As she lay there, broken and gasping, the final realization settled over her like a shroud.
This place wasn’t just a club. It was a hunting ground. And women like her?
Prey.
The man inside her leaned forward—her lips brushing her own ear in a lover’s whisper.
"Tomorrow night, the boys will love this footage."
The door clicked open.
A familiar voice cut through the haze. "Damn. Looks like you’ve been busy." The ringleader stood in the doorway, eyes gleaming with dark approval.
Heather’s stomach dropped. She was out of time. And there was no escape.
.....
The heavy door clicked shut behind the club’s ringleader, leaving Heather and her possessor alone in the cavernous basement. The air was thick with the musk of sweat and sin, the red lights casting long, leering shadows against the walls.
Heather’s body moved without her consent.
Hips swayed.
Her naked form glistened under the dim glow as the monster inside her forced her into a slow, deliberate shimmy. The sensation of her own body betraying her—fluid and responsive to every cruel command—made her want to scream. She did scream.
"Get OUT of me!" Her voice cracked, strained from hours of forced moans and sobs. The possessor only laughed—a dark, amused sound that rattled through her bones.
"And ruin the fun?" Her own hands slid up her waist, cupping her breasts possessively. "Nah. We’re just getting started." He made her slap her own ass—hard—the sharp crack echoing through the empty club.
"Fuck you!" Heather hissed.
"Oh, sweetheart." Her fingers pinched her nipple, twisting just to hear her gasp. "I fuckinh you right now.."
With a cruel mental tug, he forced her toward the main stage—the same one where they’d displayed caged women like livestock. Her legs moved without hesitation. Then—
She twerked. Hard. Shameless.
Her ass bounced in a way she’d never done in her life—cheeks clapping, her body bending forward until her hands braced against the stage.
"STOP IT!" she roared in her mind.
"Or what?" His voice dripped with condescension as he made her roll her hips, slow and obscene. "You’ll cry more?"
Heather burned with fury. The worst part? She could feel his arousal through the possession—the way her hips gyrating turned him on, his pleasure bleeding into her nerves.
"You sick bastard," she choked out.
"Aw, don’t be like that."
Her fingers trailed down over her stomach.
Then, without warning—
He speared two fingers inside her.
Her back arched violently as he curled them deep, hitting her G-spot with precision. A strangled cry ripped from her throat. "See? Your body loves me," he purred.
"I—I don’t—!"
Words failed as he pumped ruthlessly, his laughter merging with her panting gasps.
She didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. But her body didn’t care. White-hot pleasure coiled tight in her gut—Then snapped.
Her vision whited out as she came hard, her thighs clamping around her own wrist as wave after wave wracked her system.
When she came back to herself—still trembling, still violated—his voice slithered through her mind like oil.
"Y’know, I was gonna make you shift again," he mused, forcing her to collapse onto the stage, spent and sweating. "But damn, your real body? Chef’s kiss."
Her stomach twisted.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Rot in hell."
A chuckle.
Then—her hand groped her breast again.
"Not before I enjoy myself."
Her fingers trailed lower, dragging through the mess he’d made of her, circling her clit with lazy, taunting strokes.
She shuddered, biting back a moan. "Why… are you… still doing this?" she gasped.
"Because I can."
He pinched her clit—hard—and she wailed. "And because," he continued, voice thick with dark promise, "once the boys see how good you are at taking orders?"
His fingers plunged back inside her, forcing another staggered cry. "They’re gonna want you all the time."
A pause.
Then—
"And you’ll have no choice but to obey." Heather’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth— But before she could speak, his control slammed into her like a freight train.
Her back bowed. Her nails scraped the stage. And as another orgasm tore through her— She realized with horrifying clarity:
There was no escape.
....
The red digital clock on the nightstand blinked 4:37 AM as Heather's body twitched through yet another unwanted climax, her thighs glistening under the flickering basement lights. Fourteen hours. Fourteen goddamn hours trapped inside her own flesh while he puppeteered her movements, forced moans from her lips, and wrung orgasm after orgasm from her exhausted form.
"P-please..." Heather whispered through trembling lips, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Just... stop..."
Inside her mind, the possessor chuckled darkly. "Stop? Babygirl, we're just warming up."
Her traitorous hands—his hands now—slid down her sweat-slicked stomach with familiar intent. Heather squeezed her eyes shut, trying to disconnect, to retreat into some corner of her mind where this wasn't happening. But the moment his fingers brushed her oversensitive clit, her spine arched off the mattress with a ragged gasp.
"You—fucking monster—" she choked out, her nails digging into the sheets as electric pleasure-pain lanced through her.
"Ooh, say that again," he purred, circling her swollen nub with merciless precision. "Nothing hotter than hearing you curse while your body begs for it."
Her clit throbbed under his relentless attention, every nerve ending screaming with overstimulation. Heather's breath came in shallow pants as his fingers dipped lower, tracing her soaked entrance before pushing two digits inside without warning.
"Nngh! G-God—!" Her hips jerked helplessly, her inner walls fluttering around the intrusion.
"Look at you," he crooned, pistoning his fingers ruthlessly against that spongy spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. "Dripping like a goddamn faucet. Bet you can't even remember how many times you've come for me, can you?"
Tears spilled down Heather's cheeks as her body betrayed her yet again, her thighs trembling on the edge of another crushing orgasm. "I... I hate you—"
"Uh-huh," he mocked, curling his fingers just so. "Tell me how much you hate me when you scream."
The coil in her stomach snapped.
Heather's back bowed off the bed as the climax ripped through her, a broken wail tearing from her throat as her vision whited out. Her hips stuttered against his hand, her inner walls spasming around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure-pain crashed over her.
When she finally came down, shuddering and gasping, his laughter echoed through her skull.
"Twenty-seven," he announced smugly, withdrawing his glistening fingers and holding them up to her blurry vision. "That's how many times I've made this pretty little pussy cum tonight. Think we can hit thirty before sunrise?"
Heather turned her face into the pillow, her entire body aching, every muscle limp with exhaustion. She wanted to rage. To fight. But fourteen hours of relentless violation had hollowed her out, leaving only a numb shell behind.
Heather collapsed against the sheets, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're... you're sick..."
"And you're delicious," he countered, making her trail a finger through the mess between her thighs before bringing it to her lips. "Taste that? That's what defeat feels like, sweetheart."
Her stomach churned as her tongue licked her own juices away at his command.
"Now..." Her hands slid down her body once more. "Let's see if we can't make you scream one last time before the boys get here."
Heather thrashed weakly as his will overpowered hers yet again. "N-no more... I can't—"
"Oh you can," he whispered, spreading her legs wide. "And you will."
As his fingers found her clit again, as pleasure built like a tidal wave against her will, Heather did the only thing she had left.
She closed her eyes.
And prayed for death.
And cums in her own hands.
...
When she thought everything is wrong she leaves him. However in her way she ended up in the wrong crowd that she's not supposed to get involved with.
I stood in front of the mirror, examining every detail. The curve of her lips, the way her dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders, the faint freckles dotting her nose. Lena. His girlfriend. The woman whose life I was about to borrow for a night.
My skin tingled as I focused, my muscles shifting beneath the surface, bones adjusting with an almost imperceptible crackle. The transformation was always strange—like slipping into a second skin that wasn’t mine. But I’d done this before. Too many times, if I was being honest.
I exhaled, smoothing my hands—no, her hands—down the soft fabric of her favorite jeans and the loose, cream-colored sweater I’d pulled from her closet earlier. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut, but I pushed it down. This was for him. Only for him.
---
The knock on his door made my breath hitch. Three sharp raps, just like Lena always did. I could hear his footsteps inside, the muffled curse of surprise when he saw me through the peephole.
The door swung open, and there he was—Dylan. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his gray T-shirt was wrinkled in that effortlessly perfect way only he could pull off. His eyes widened.
"Lena?" he said, blinking. "I thought you left for your trip?"
I bit her lip the way she always did when she was nervous. "I canceled it," I said, my voice an exact replica of hers—soft, melodic. "I… I just missed you too much."
Dylan stared at me, confusion flickering across his face before dissolving into warmth. He stepped aside. "You’re insane," he murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You were supposed to be gone for a week."
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. The apartment smelled like him—warm, a little musky, with the faintest hint of coffee. Familiar. Safe.
"I changed my mind," I said, brushing past him, my fingers trailing over his arm. "Don’t you want me here?"
His breath caught, and I felt a thrill run through me. This was the game. I knew how Lena touched him, how she spoke to him, how she loved him. And tonight, I’d be better than her.
Dylan’s hands settled on my waist as he turned me toward him, his gaze searching my face. "Of course I want you here," he murmured. "But you never cancel plans. Especially not for me."
I let out a quiet laugh—hers, not mine. "Maybe I’m trying to be different," I said, tilting my head. My fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, letting my touch linger just a little longer than necessary.
He exhaled, the resistance in his shoulders melting under my touch. "You’re gonna make it really hard to focus on the game tonight,” he teased.
"Good," I whispered, leaning in.
Our lips met, and I forced myself to lose in the rhythm of her. The way she kissed—gentle at first, then hungrier. Dylan responded instantly, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
I hated this. Every second of it. The press of his mouth, the warmth of his hands sliding up my back, the insistence of his body against mine. But he loved it. And that was all that mattered.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, he grinned. "Damn. If this is what happens when you cancel trips, I might have to start sabotaging your suitcase."
I laughed—the sound perfectly hers, perfectly convincing—and let him lead me toward the couch, where I knew the night would only grow more intimate.
And as much as it twisted something inside me, I’d keep pretending. Because seeing him happy, seeing him hers, was all I ever wanted—even if it meant I’d never really be the one he loved.
....
The sun was setting as I sat cross-legged on the floor of my apartment, surrounded by layers of clothing heaped in disarray—her wardrobe, meticulously recreated down to the last stitch. I had spent months watching her, memorizing the way she moved, the way she spoke, even the way she laughed—soft and breathy, as if she were constantly on the verge of a secret.
It wasn’t just her face I had to mimic. It was her soul.
A knock at the door startled me.
Shifting back to myself had always felt like shedding a second skin—my body reforming into my natural curves, my dark curls springing free. I yanked open the door to find my neighbor, Mrs. Langley, standing there with a suspicious squint.
"Heather, you alright in there? Hearin’ all sorts of rustlin’."
I forced a smile. "Just reorganizing, mom. You know how it is."
She hummed, unconvinced, but shuffled off with a grumble.
Heather. That was the name I had given myself when I moved here. Safe. Unassuming. Not the girl who could become anyone else.
I smoothed my hands down my sides, swallowed hard, and closed my eyes. The shift came easier now, like shrugging into a familiar coat. My skin tingled, warming as muscle and bone reordered beneath it. My fingers lengthened, my hips softened, my nose reshaped into the delicate upturn of myself again.
When I opened my eyes again, I become myself again stared back at me from the mirror.
Heather had always been strategic with her ability. She never used it frivolously—only when an opportunity was too tempting to ignore. But this wasn’t just any opportunity. This was Dylan. The man who had consumed her thoughts for years, with his easy laughter and the way his dark eyes crinkled when he smiled. For so long, she had watched from afar, aching for something she could never truly have—until now.
Lena, his girlfriend, was away on a two-week business trip, leaving Dylan alone in their shared apartment. Heather had waited until nightfall, lingering outside until she saw the lights flick off in the bedroom window. Then, with a deep breath, she shifted.
It started at the base of her spine, a slow unspooling warmth that traveled through her limbs, her skin prickling as it stretched and reshaped itself into Lena’s softer curves. Her cheekbones lifted, her hips rounded, her fingers thinned—every detail mattered. She even adjusted her gait, matching Lena’s light, precise steps as she crossed the street.
The key under the flowerpot was still there, just as Lena had mentioned to a friend weeks ago. Heather’s heart hammered against her ribs as she turned it in the lock.
The apartment was quiet, lit only by the blue glow of the television. Dylan was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, his bare chest rising and falling in slow rhythm.
And that's how it started...
....
The next few hours were a blur of tangled limbs, whispered words, and the kind of intimacy Heather had only ever dreamed of. She hated the way her stomach twisted with guilt, hated the way her own pleasure was tangled up in the lie—but god, the way he touched her. The way he whispered Lena’s name against her skin.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and she fell asleep curled against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
When Heather woke, sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the tangled sheets. She shifted slightly—and froze.
Her own hands.
She bolted upright, panic searing through her veins. No, no, no— She had shifted back in her sleep. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, her own familiar frame unmistakable.
Dylan stirred beside her, still deep in sleep, one arm slung lazily over the empty space where Lena should have been.
Heather scrambled out of bed, her pulse hammering. If he woke up now—if he saw her—
She clenched her fists, focusing, and felt the shift ripple over her again. The relief was instant as Lena’s features returned, but the terror lingered. She couldn’t stay.
Moving fast, she gathered her scattered clothes, dressed in silence, and scribbled a note in Lena’s looping handwriting:
"Had to leave early—miss you already. Call you tonight."
She placed it on the pillow beside Dylan’s head, stealing one last glance at him before slipping out the door.
....
A diner a few blocks away provided temporary refuge. Heather slid into a corner booth, her hands trembling around a steaming mug of coffee. The reality of what she’d done settled heavy in her chest.
This wasn’t like her other little games—posing as a stranger for an hour, mimicking a co-worker to avoid confrontation. This was Dylan. And she had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.
But even as guilt gnawed at her, another thought slithered in:
Dylan had wanted her.
Or at least, he had wanted the version of her she had given him. She took a slow sip of coffee, her reflection staring back at her in warped distortion against the diner window.
What happens when Lena comes home?
And worse.
What happens if Dylan wants her to stay?
The diner’s bell jingled as Heather pushed through the door, the cold evening air biting at her skin. She pulled her jacket tighter, her thoughts still tangled with the weight of what she had done with Dylan. The coffee had done little to calm her nerves.
She turned down a dimly lit side street, the glow of streetlights flickering against the damp pavement. That’s when she saw them—a group of men, moving in hushed murmurs toward a narrow alley tucked between two weathered brick buildings.
Something about their demeanor set off a warning in the back of her mind. Shoulders hunched, collars pulled up, quick glances over their shoulders as if checking for pursuers.
This isn’t right.
Heather hesitated at the mouth of the alley, her pulse quickening. She should walk away. She should call the cops and let them handle it.
But curiosity was always her downfall.
She slipped into the shadows, pressing close to the wall as she followed them deeper into the alley, her footsteps silent against the cracked concrete. They stopped in front of a rusted metal door half-hidden under peeling graffiti. Above it, a dull red sign flickered:
MALES ONLY.
A muscle in Heather’s jaw twitched. Of course.
The men rapped a quick pattern on the door—three knocks, a pause, then two more. It creaked open, spilling a sliver of neon light onto the ground before swallowing them whole.
The door thudded shut behind them. Locked.
Heather exhaled sharply, weighing her options.
If this was some kind of underground smuggling ring, she should report it. But what if it was just some stupid exclusive party? A gathering for rich, obnoxious dudes who liked to pretend they were part of some secret society?
Her lips curled. Either way, she was getting in.
She ducked behind a dumpster, pulling in a slow breath. Shift or stay?
Shift.
She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar hum beneath her skin as bones realigned, muscles thickened, shoulders broadened. When she blinked, her reflection in a nearby puddle showed Dylan’s sharp jawline, his tousled dark hair—his face.
Good enough.
Approaching the door, she lifted her hand and mimicked the knock—three, pause, two.
A slot scraped open at eye level, revealing a pair of narrowed, shadowed eyes.
“Password?” the voice grunted.
Heather’s stomach plummeted. Shit.
She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Forcing Dylan’s easy confidence, she smirked. “C’mon, man. I just stepped out for a smoke. You really gonna make me say it again?”
Silence. Then—
The door swung open.
The bass hit her first—deep, throbbing, rattling up through the floorboards. Dim red lights pulsed in time with the music, casting long shadows over the crowded room. Men packed the space, some in sleek suits, others in leather jackets, all of them holding glasses of liquor that gleamed like liquid amber.
But it wasn’t just a party.
Against the far wall stood a row of cages—and inside them, women.
Heather’s breath stopped.
The air inside the basement was thick with sweat and the cloying scent of whiskey and arousal. Heather—still wearing Dylan’s form—stood frozen, her stomach churning as she took in the surreal horror unfolding around her.
Possession Club. It said on the screen.
There are women in cages weren’t just captives.
They were hosts.
The man on the stage, slick-haired and grinning like a carnival barker, gestured toward the cages with a flourish. "Another successful week for our members! Fifty-four possessions total—twenty sexual engagements, thirty-two solo performances, and even two lovely ladies who grew very familiar with each other!" The men around Heather erupted in laughter and cheers, raising their glasses.
Then the speaker’s eyes flicked to a woman crouched at the edge of the stage, her green bikini damp between her thighs as her fingers worked furiously at her own pussy. She didn’t seem to care that everyone was staring—her moans were loud, shameless, her hips bucking as she came right there in front of them.
"Ah, Sarah," the man on stage chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Still can’t control herself, I see."
Pulling her fingers free with a slick pop, the woman—Sarah—giggled, bouncing her breasts as she blew him a kiss. "Sorry~" she panted, not sounding sorry at all. "You know how pent-up I get when I’m not being used."
It was like watching a pornographic nightmare.
Heather’s skin crawled.
Suddenly, a mechanical groan filled the room as the speaker pulled a lever on the wall. The brick facade behind him split open, revealing a long hallway lined with glass rooms—each containing a different woman. Some writhed on beds, touching themselves. Others knelt obediently, waiting.
"Bookings are now open!" the man announced, waving a stack of plastic keycards. "Members with prior reservations, you know the drill. Newcomers—get your cards at the desk and pick your poison!"
The crowd surged forward, men jostling each other as they lined up to claim their "slots." Heather stumbled back, bumping into someone.
"Easy there, pal," a beefy guy in a leather vest drawled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "First time? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
Before Heather could respond, a commotion near the hallway entrance caught her attention. A wiry man in glasses downed a small pill, grinning as two burly men dragged a struggling woman toward him.
"P-Please, no! I don’t—I don’t want this!" the woman sobbed, kicking wildly. Heather’s fists clenched.
Then it happened.
The man in glasses shuddered—his form flickering like a TV with bad reception—before his entire body seemed to dissolve into mist. The smoky tendrils coiled through the air before plunging straight into the screaming woman’s mouth.
Her body convulsed.
Shaking. Twitching. Legs kicking as her back arched violently—
—and then, stillness.
Her eyes snapped open.
Glowing.
Slowly, a lazy, entirely male smirk spread across her lips. She—he—lifted a hand and groped her breast, squeezing hard with a chuckle. "Damn, this body is tight."
The crowd roared in approval. Heather was going to be sick. She turned and shoved her way toward the exit, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
They’re not just imprisoning women.
They’re stealing them.
And now, disguised as Dylan, she was trapped in a room full of monsters—with no idea how to get out.
The crowd pressed in around Heather like a living, breathing wall—hot, suffocating, reeking of alcohol and sweat. She shoved through, her shoulder knocking against a man’s chest, her elbow jostling another’s drink. Apologies died in her throat. She needed to get out.
But fate had other plans.
Her foot caught on something—a loose floorboard, someone’s outstretched leg—and she lurched forward, crashing straight into the man who had been on stage.
He steadied her with a grip like iron, his slick grin never faltering. Up close, his eyes were dark, calculating, the kind of gaze that peeled back layers without permission.
"Well, well," he purred, tilting his head. "Don’t recognize you. You new?"
Heather’s pulse hammered in her throat. She forced Dylan’s voice—low.. "Nah, just… been a while."
The man laughed, fingers tightening on her shoulder in a mock-friendly squeeze. "Bullshit. You’ve got that deer-in-headlights look all the newbies get." He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Relax. You’re among friends here."
Friends.
The word curdled in her gut as her gaze flicked past him—to the glass rooms where women lay sprawled, their bodies puppeteered by unseen invaders.
The man—the ringleader—stepped back, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to the club, brother. This is a sacred space. A place where men like us don’t just take pleasure…" His grin turned feral. "We become it."
He clapped her on the back like they were old pals. Heather’s skin crawled.
"Rules are simple," he continued, steering her toward the bar despite her stiff resistance. "What happens here stays here. If some nosy bitch catches wind and tries to run to the cops?" He chuckled, pouring a glass of amber liquor and sliding it toward her. "We reward her. Give her the ride of her life—permanently."
The threat hung in the air, thick as the bass vibrating through the floor.
Heather swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the glass. She needed to leave. Now.
"I, uh—I actually gotta bounce," she muttered, setting the drink down untouched. "Forgot I got shit to do—"
The ringleader’s hand clamped down on her wrist. "Nonsense." His smile never wavered, but his eyes turned glacial. "You just got here. And I insist you try before you go."
From his pocket, he produced a small vial—inside, tiny pills shimmered like crushed pearls.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
Possession pills.
"Go on," he urged, shaking one into her palm. "First one’s free."
The pill sat there, innocuous, deadly. Around her, the club pulsed with grotesque energy—men laughing, women moaning, bodies moving in ways that weren’t theirs.
She was outnumbered.
Outmatched.
And if she didn’t play along—she’d never make it out alive.
Heather’s fingers trembled around the pill, her mind racing for an escape. The dim, flickering lights of the private room made everything feel surreal—like she was trapped in some grotesque nightmare. The girl on the bed continued to writhe, her legs spread obscenely wide as she gazed at them with heavy-lidded eyes.
The ringleader smirked at Heather’s hesitation. "First-timer jitters. I get it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the girl. "Meet your instructor. Well, not really—the guy inside her is."
Heather’s jaw clenched. The way he spoke about it so casually, as if this were some kind of twisted mentorship program, made her skin crawl.
The girl on the bed giggled—inhumanly deep, wrong. Then, in a voice that didn’t match her delicate frame, she spoke. "Sup, newbie."
A shudder raced down Heather’s spine.
The ringleader smirked. "This fucker’s got the highest possession count in the club. Every girl in his school, every teacher, his best friend’s mom—name it, he’s been inside." He clapped Heather hard on the back. "He’s gonna show you the ropes."
With that, he turned and left, the lock clicking ominously behind him.
The moment the door sealed, the girl on the bed convulsed, her back arching as a thick, smokey mist forced itself out of her mouth. The specter lingered in the air for a second before condensing back into human form—a lanky, smirking guy in his early twenties, wearing a cocky grin that made Heather’s fists itch.
The girl collapsed onto the bed, gasping, her eyes wide and dazed. "W-Where…?" She clutched the sheets, disoriented.
He ignored her, stepping toward Heather—Dylan’s form—with an assessing gaze. "Alright, Dylan. Let’s get you started."
Heather forced Dylan’s voice, trying to steady it. "How… does this even work?"
The possessor smirked, plucking the pill from her palm and holding it up between two fingers. "Pop one of these, and boom—you’re a ghost. You can slip into any chick you want. No resistance, no fighting back. Just pure control." His grin widened. "But here’s the catch."
He tossed the pill back into her hand. "One pill lasts 24 hours. If you don’t take another before time runs out? Congrats—you’re stuck forever. No refunds."
A cold sweat broke out on the back of Heather’s neck.
The girl on the bed whimpered, trying to scoot back. "P-Please… just let me go…"
The possessor didn’t even glance at her. "Lesson one: Don’t get attached. They’re just shells. Our shells."
His fingers flicked out, snatching the pill back from Heather. Before she could react, he shoved it into the girl’s mouth, clamping his hand over her lips until she choked it down.
Then, like smoke through a crack, his body dissolved, swirling violently before surging back into her.
The girl’s body jerked, her pupils dilating unnaturally as his voice slithered out of her lips.
"Now," he purred, running a hand up her thigh, "let’s practice."
Horror coiled in Heather’s gut.
She had to get out.
Before she became the lesson.
"I'm not doing this," Heather growled, her voice trembling as she took a step back.
The girl's face—possessed by that leering bastard—twisted in confusion. "What the hell do you mean, no?" The throaty, masculine chuckle that slithered out of her delicate lips sent a wave of revulsion through Heather. "Dude, that's why you're here, ain't it?"
Heather's fists clenched at her sides, Dylan's borrowed body tense with barely restrained panic. "I changed my mind. I'm out."
She spun toward the locked door, desperation burning in her veins. The metallic click of the latch mocked her—no way out without a key. Her lungs tightened. Think, think, think—
A hand seized her wrist, yanking her backward. "Oh, hell no. You ain't goin' anywhere."
Heather twisted, wrenching free. "Get off—"
Her feet caught on the edge of the bed’s tangled sheets.
Time slowed.
She flailed, but gravity won.
Her temple slammed into the dresser’s sharp corner—a white-hot crack of pain—and then—
—everything unraveled.
A sickening warmth pooled beneath her skin, muscles writhing as bones snapped back into place. Curves reemerged. Height dissolved. Dylan’s broad shoulders melted into her own slender frame, his clothes suddenly baggy, drowning her.
The world swayed as she slumped to her knees, blinking through the haze.
She was herself again.
The girl on the bed—no, the man inside her—gaped. "What the—?"
Heather’s stomach plummeted.
No.
She reached up, fingers grazing the familiar shape of her own face—soft cheeks, full lips, her hair. Dylan’s borrowed form was gone.
The possessed girl’s expression morphed from shock to greedy fascination. A slow, vile grin split her face. "Well, well. A shapeshifter." He let out a low whistle. "Now that’s a rarity."
Heather scrambled back, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Stay away from me."
The girl—no, the thing wearing her—laughed, crawling off the bed in a way too predatory to be human. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you just became the main attraction."
The door rattled—the sound of a key turning.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
The lock clicked.
The pounding on the door was relentless.
"Yo, everything alright in there? Sounded like a damn fight!"
Inside the dimly lit room, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and something metallic—fear, desperation, the charged energy of a predator circling its prey.
The girl’s body—possessed by the grinning bastard who now knew Heather’s secret—rolled her eyes and called back, voice slick with amusement.
"Relax, man, just having too much fun in here!"
The lie dripped with the confidence of someone used to getting his way. The muffled chuckle from the other side of the door confirmed they bought it. Footsteps receded, leaving Heather alone with the monster standing between her and escape.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She was trapped.
Worse—she’d given herself away.
The man inside the girl cocked his head, eyes glinting in the dim light as he raked his gaze over Heather’s trembling form.
"You know," he mused, stepping closer, "I’ve seen some crazy shit in this club, but a shapeshifter? That’s a first." He grinned. "And damn if you don’t have a fine body to go with it."
Heather’s back hit the wall. Cold brick bit into her skin through own too-big shirt. She had no weapons. No backup.
And he knew exactly what she was.
The possessed girl stretched, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off a cramp. "Alright, here’s how this is gonna go." She—he—ticked the points off on delicate fingers:
1. "You don’t scream."
2. "You don’t fight."
3. "And maybe, just maybe, I don’t tell the guys outside you’re a walking, talking party trick they can all take for a spin."
He stepped closer, close enough that Heather could see the unnatural gleam in the girl’s eyes—too sharp, too male for the soft features they were trapped in.
"What do you say, shapeshifter girl? Deal?"
Heather spat in his face.
The girl’s head snapped back—but then the laugh came, low and dark. A slow swipe of her thumb wiped the saliva away, and when those eyes locked onto Heather again, they were hungry.
"Should’ve taken the deal."
Then— A gasp. A shudder.
The girl’s body convulsed, back arching violently as a thick, black mist spewed from her lips. It coiled in the air like smoke, twisting, seething— And then it lunged for Heather.
Cold.
That was her first thought.
It felt like drowning in ice water, like freezing fingers clawing down her throat, filling her lungs, her veins, her bones. Heather gagged, her body buckling under the invasion. Her vision swam—blurred—
And then came the pressure.
Pushing. Squeezing.
Something inside her screamed as the man’s presence forced its way in, tendrils of his will latching onto her nerves, her muscles, her thoughts— Heather’s fists clenched, nails biting into her palms.
*Get. Out.*
Her lips moved, words trembling. "You... can’t... have me." A scoff echoed in her skull—his voice, smug and condescending.
"Oh sweetheart, I already do."
And then— *Pain.*
Her right hand moved on its own, jerking up to claw at her own throat. Heather choked. Stop it—STOP IT— Her traitorous fingers tightened. Dark spots danced in her vision. Laughter, thick and cruel, vibrated through her bones.
"Fight all you want." A phantom tongue licked her lips from the inside. "But this body’s mine now."
Heather collapsed to her knees, gasping. It was like being locked in a glass box inside her own head—able to see, to feel, but powerless to stop what came next. Her hands lifted—not hers, his—and skimmed up her sides, groping, squeezing, testing.
"Damn, you weren’t kidding about this body." He cupped her breasts through the fabric, thumbs rolling her nipples until they pebbled tight. A groan rattled through her throat—his pleasure, not hers.
Tears burned her eyes as her own fingers hooked into the collar of Dylan’s shirt and yanked. Buttons popped, clattering to the floor. Cool air kissed her exposed skin.
"Yeah... that’s better."
Hands—her hands—palmed her bare tits, kneading with rough appreciation. "Fuck, these are perfect." His laughter slithered under her skin. "Bet you’ve made guys lose their minds with these, huh?"
Heather squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Then—
Her fingers trailed lower. Over her stomach.
Down, down—
She thrashed internally, screaming, pleading, but it was no use. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. And when her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, when they found the slick heat between her legs—
It was his voice that moaned.
It was his will that made her cum.
That was the first sound—ragged, satisfied breaths filling the silence of the room. Heather’s body slumped against the wall, spent, trembling. The man inside her stretched lazily, arching her back with a groan.
"Damn, that was good."
Heather lay sprawled on the cold basement floor, her body slick with sweat and trembling from the forced release he had wrung from her. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, every heartbeat an exhausted throb of humiliation.
The bastard inside her wasn’t done.
Her hands—his hands—groped her breasts again, squeezing with possessive delight as he laughed in her mind.
"Fuck, I could get used to this."
Her fingers pinched her nipples hard enough to make her gasp—his pitiless amusement twisting her pleasure into pain. Then they trailed down her stomach again, past her navel, slipping between her thighs.
No wait—
She fought, straining against the cage of her own body, but it was no use. The first brush of fingertips against her clit was a sickening betrayal. Her own flesh pulsed in response, still sensitive from the last assault.
"You really don’t wanna enjoy this, huh?" His voice was a sneer in her skull as he circled that swollen bud, slow and taunting. "Too bad."
Heather clenched her teeth, but a helpless whimper escaped as he sped up, his touch ruthless, degrading.
"Go on, fight it," he mocked. "Bet you’ll still cum like a slut anyway." Tears burned her eyes—but her body, traitorous and weak, arched off the ground as he drove her toward another brutal orgasm.
Her back bowed.
Then—
Release.
A guttural moan tore from her lips—his victory, not hers—as her hips jerked wildly. Slick warmth gushed around his fingers, soaking her thighs, the floor beneath her. Satisfaction oozed through their shared mind like syrup.
"Damn. You’re dripping."
Her hands—his hands—lifted, fingers glistening with her own shame before he licked them clean with her tongue. "Not bad."
Before she could even recover, Heather felt her body stand—his will puppeteering her limbs like a marionette. A deep, rolling laugh bubbled up from her throat as his control forced her into motion.
Hips swaying. Ass twerking.
"Look at you," he crooned, making her slap her own rear with a sharp crack. "Made for this shit."
Humiliation burned through her like acid. She could feel it—the way he relished every second of her degradation, the way he made her body perform like some cheap stripper for his amusement.
Her stomach churned. She wanted to scream.
Then—
A pause.
"Here’s the deal," he mused, halting her gyrating hips and turning her toward the cracked mirror across the room. Heather saw herself—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide in arousal she hadn’t asked for. And then she saw her lips curl into a smirk that wasn’t hers.
"You let me ride this body for a while," he purred, running her hands up her naked sides. "Really enjoy it. And hey—maybe I’ll even make it good for you."
Her fingers tweaked her nipples again, sharp enough to make her gasp.
"Or,"—her head tilted, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper—"I could record a little video of us. Let the whole club see what a desperate little shifter looks like when she cums."
Heather’s blood turned to ice. The footage would spread. She’d never escape it. Her lips moved before she could stop them.
"Fuck. You."
A laugh—dark, amused.
"Oh, sweetheart. I plan to."
Her body moved on its own, grabbing a discarded phone from the dresser.
Camera on.
Recording.
"Say hi to the fellas, Heather."
....
The dim, flickering light of the basement room painted Heather’s sweat-slicked skin in shifting shadows. She lay sprawled on the stained mattress, her body trembling in the aftermath of another brutal climax—one of many forced upon her in what felt like an eternity of humiliation.
The phone propped nearby ticked over to four hours of recording.
Four hours.
Four hours of him using her hands, her mouth, her very soul to wring pleasure from her unwilling body.
Her thighs glistened—slick with arousal he had demanded, trembling from exhaustion.
She wanted to scream. To sob. To kill him. But her body wasn’t hers anymore.
His voice slithered through her mind, dark with amusement. "You were made for this, weren’t you?" Her lips—his to control—twisted into a mocking smirk.
Her fingers—his to command—dragged through the mess between her legs, painting her stomach with glistening streaks.
"Look at you," he purred, forcing her to tilt her hips toward the camera. "Dripping like a fucking fountain."
Heather’s breath hitched.
She hated this.
Hated him.
Hated the way her body betrayed her.
But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t stop. Her fingers circled her clit again, slow, taunting.
She braced herself.
"P-Please..." she gasped—the first word she'd managed in hours.
"Please what?" His laughter was a razor against her mind. "Tell me, Heather. Beg for it." She shut her eyes, breath ragged.
"Stop."
A pause.
Then—
A roar of laughter.
"Oh, I wish you could see yourself right now," he crooned. "So pathetic. So weak."
Her thumb pressed down—hard—and her back arched as another wave of forced pleasure tore through her.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "F-Fuck you..." she choked out. His grin was a razor in her skull.
"Already am."
Then, to her horror, she felt the familiar pull at her bones—the telltale tingle of shifting.
Skin rippled. Muscles tensed. Her own horrified gasp morphed mid-breath into— Someone else’s voice.
"Recognize her?"
The words spilled from lips that weren’t hers—soft, feminine, strange. He forced her body to crawl to the mirror. The reflection wasn’t Heather. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair, pouty lips, a body built for sin. She didn't know her. But he did.
"Jessica," he mused, making her hands skim down her new curves. "Cheer captain. Total bitch. Fucked her brains out the moment I got her alone."
Heather’s stomach turned.
A whimper—Jessica’s whimper—trembled from her throat. Then— Another shift. Hips widened. Breasts swelled.
"Sarah," he purred, running his fingers over thick thighs, a voluptuous frame. "Teacher’s pet. She cried when I took her. Best orgasm of her life."
Shift. A petite redhead.
Shift. A tanned beauty with a dancer’s grace.
His collection.
His trophies.
And now, his to make Heather wear like some sick costume.
Each shift was accompanied by forced touch—his cruel exploration of his conquests, using her body to relive his sick victories.
She wanted to vomit.
Then—suddenly—she was herself again.
Naked.
Exposed.
Trembling.
In her hands was something new—a vibrator, thick and humming with wicked intensity.
"Time for the main event," he murmured. The tip pressed against her wet, quivering pussy. She sucked in a sharp breath— Then screamed as he turned it on full power. The vibrations tore through her, ruthless and unrelenting, her hips jerking uncontrollably against the assault.
"Oh fuck—FUCK!"
Her own cry disgusted her. She hated how good it felt. Hated how her body clenched, greedy and desperate, around nothing. Hated him for making her like it.
"The more you fight, the longer this lasts," he reminded her sweetly. "Just relax, Heather. Enjoy yourself."
She bit her lip until it bled. But her body obeyed him. Spasmed for him. Came for him.
And when the wave crashed over her, when her vision whited out and her scream echoed off the walls— The camera caught it all.
As she lay there, broken and gasping, the final realization settled over her like a shroud.
This place wasn’t just a club. It was a hunting ground. And women like her?
Prey.
The man inside her leaned forward—her lips brushing her own ear in a lover’s whisper.
"Tomorrow night, the boys will love this footage."
The door clicked open.
A familiar voice cut through the haze. "Damn. Looks like you’ve been busy." The ringleader stood in the doorway, eyes gleaming with dark approval.
Heather’s stomach dropped. She was out of time. And there was no escape.
.....
The heavy door clicked shut behind the club’s ringleader, leaving Heather and her possessor alone in the cavernous basement. The air was thick with the musk of sweat and sin, the red lights casting long, leering shadows against the walls.
Heather’s body moved without her consent.
Hips swayed.
Her naked form glistened under the dim glow as the monster inside her forced her into a slow, deliberate shimmy. The sensation of her own body betraying her—fluid and responsive to every cruel command—made her want to scream. She did scream.
"Get OUT of me!" Her voice cracked, strained from hours of forced moans and sobs. The possessor only laughed—a dark, amused sound that rattled through her bones.
"And ruin the fun?" Her own hands slid up her waist, cupping her breasts possessively. "Nah. We’re just getting started." He made her slap her own ass—hard—the sharp crack echoing through the empty club.
"Fuck you!" Heather hissed.
"Oh, sweetheart." Her fingers pinched her nipple, twisting just to hear her gasp. "I fuckinh you right now.."
With a cruel mental tug, he forced her toward the main stage—the same one where they’d displayed caged women like livestock. Her legs moved without hesitation. Then—
She twerked. Hard. Shameless.
Her ass bounced in a way she’d never done in her life—cheeks clapping, her body bending forward until her hands braced against the stage.
"STOP IT!" she roared in her mind.
"Or what?" His voice dripped with condescension as he made her roll her hips, slow and obscene. "You’ll cry more?"
Heather burned with fury. The worst part? She could feel his arousal through the possession—the way her hips gyrating turned him on, his pleasure bleeding into her nerves.
"You sick bastard," she choked out.
"Aw, don’t be like that."
Her fingers trailed down over her stomach.
Then, without warning—
He speared two fingers inside her.
Her back arched violently as he curled them deep, hitting her G-spot with precision. A strangled cry ripped from her throat. "See? Your body loves me," he purred.
"I—I don’t—!"
Words failed as he pumped ruthlessly, his laughter merging with her panting gasps.
She didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. But her body didn’t care. White-hot pleasure coiled tight in her gut—Then snapped.
Her vision whited out as she came hard, her thighs clamping around her own wrist as wave after wave wracked her system.
When she came back to herself—still trembling, still violated—his voice slithered through her mind like oil.
"Y’know, I was gonna make you shift again," he mused, forcing her to collapse onto the stage, spent and sweating. "But damn, your real body? Chef’s kiss."
Her stomach twisted.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Rot in hell."
A chuckle.
Then—her hand groped her breast again.
"Not before I enjoy myself."
Her fingers trailed lower, dragging through the mess he’d made of her, circling her clit with lazy, taunting strokes.
She shuddered, biting back a moan. "Why… are you… still doing this?" she gasped.
"Because I can."
He pinched her clit—hard—and she wailed. "And because," he continued, voice thick with dark promise, "once the boys see how good you are at taking orders?"
His fingers plunged back inside her, forcing another staggered cry. "They’re gonna want you all the time."
A pause.
Then—
"And you’ll have no choice but to obey." Heather’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth— But before she could speak, his control slammed into her like a freight train.
Her back bowed. Her nails scraped the stage. And as another orgasm tore through her— She realized with horrifying clarity:
There was no escape.
....
The red digital clock on the nightstand blinked 4:37 AM as Heather's body twitched through yet another unwanted climax, her thighs glistening under the flickering basement lights. Fourteen hours. Fourteen goddamn hours trapped inside her own flesh while he puppeteered her movements, forced moans from her lips, and wrung orgasm after orgasm from her exhausted form.
"P-please..." Heather whispered through trembling lips, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Just... stop..."
Inside her mind, the possessor chuckled darkly. "Stop? Babygirl, we're just warming up."
Her traitorous hands—his hands now—slid down her sweat-slicked stomach with familiar intent. Heather squeezed her eyes shut, trying to disconnect, to retreat into some corner of her mind where this wasn't happening. But the moment his fingers brushed her oversensitive clit, her spine arched off the mattress with a ragged gasp.
"You—fucking monster—" she choked out, her nails digging into the sheets as electric pleasure-pain lanced through her.
"Ooh, say that again," he purred, circling her swollen nub with merciless precision. "Nothing hotter than hearing you curse while your body begs for it."
Her clit throbbed under his relentless attention, every nerve ending screaming with overstimulation. Heather's breath came in shallow pants as his fingers dipped lower, tracing her soaked entrance before pushing two digits inside without warning.
"Nngh! G-God—!" Her hips jerked helplessly, her inner walls fluttering around the intrusion.
"Look at you," he crooned, pistoning his fingers ruthlessly against that spongy spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. "Dripping like a goddamn faucet. Bet you can't even remember how many times you've come for me, can you?"
Tears spilled down Heather's cheeks as her body betrayed her yet again, her thighs trembling on the edge of another crushing orgasm. "I... I hate you—"
"Uh-huh," he mocked, curling his fingers just so. "Tell me how much you hate me when you scream."
The coil in her stomach snapped.
Heather's back bowed off the bed as the climax ripped through her, a broken wail tearing from her throat as her vision whited out. Her hips stuttered against his hand, her inner walls spasming around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure-pain crashed over her.
When she finally came down, shuddering and gasping, his laughter echoed through her skull.
"Twenty-seven," he announced smugly, withdrawing his glistening fingers and holding them up to her blurry vision. "That's how many times I've made this pretty little pussy cum tonight. Think we can hit thirty before sunrise?"
Heather turned her face into the pillow, her entire body aching, every muscle limp with exhaustion. She wanted to rage. To fight. But fourteen hours of relentless violation had hollowed her out, leaving only a numb shell behind.
Heather collapsed against the sheets, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're... you're sick..."
"And you're delicious," he countered, making her trail a finger through the mess between her thighs before bringing it to her lips. "Taste that? That's what defeat feels like, sweetheart."
Her stomach churned as her tongue licked her own juices away at his command.
"Now..." Her hands slid down her body once more. "Let's see if we can't make you scream one last time before the boys get here."
Heather thrashed weakly as his will overpowered hers yet again. "N-no more... I can't—"
"Oh you can," he whispered, spreading her legs wide. "And you will."
As his fingers found her clit again, as pleasure built like a tidal wave against her will, Heather did the only thing she had left.
She closed her eyes.
And prayed for death.
And cums in her own hands.
...
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This strange erotic story tells you about a teenage boy named Nicky and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena, who gets transformed by her boyfriend's amulet from the old magic shop that turns her into an ideal mom and has sex with. Not only that, he will continue to change her any moms or MILFs he wants to fuck.
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My adolescent, unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny, schoolgirl
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My adolescent, unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny, schoolgirl
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
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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.
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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A jealous bully uses a magic spell to try to get with someones girlfriend.
Chris watched as Serena and Jack walked out of the classroom. They were holding hands, which only made Chris angrier. He still didn’t understand how someone like Jack could have been able to get with someone as hot as Serena. She was taller than most girls, with light red hair, she had an amazing body even if her bust was a bit on the small side. But Chris, along with most guys in his class, had heard rumors about Serena that she was very good in bed.
She was also very good at declining guys as well, often verbally insulting them in the process. He still scowled whenever he remembered the look on her face when he asked if she would go out with him. She called him a pig! A pig! Did she even know who he is?
He was Chris Miller, star of the football team, and one of the strongest and best looking guys in school! How could she?
And then there was Jack. The lanky, awkward, nerd. His face had some scarring from acne, and he was thin as a twig. How the hell did someone like him end up with someone like Serena?
Chris walked over towards the couple who had sat down at a bench in front of one of the classrooms. “Urgh! Mr. Smith’s test was so hard!” Serena complained, “I’m glad it’s over.”
“One of the harder tests I took.” Jack mumbled, “I pretty sure I passed, but I think this might be my lowest score.”
“Hey.” Chris grunted, “Didn’t think I’d see you here. Figured you be out of the test rooms sooner, Jack.”
“He left late because he wanted to check over his answers,” Serena replied, “unlike someone who finishes as fast as he can. Honestly, it’s no surprise you’re as bad as tests as you are in bed.”
Chris coughed, it took him a second to realize what she had said. But Jack figured it out right away, the nerd chuckled as Chris felt himself redden.
His arm lurched forward, pulling Jack closer, “You find something funny, boy?”
Chris wasn’t aware of the students who were in the hallway. Students who now stopped and watched as Serena quickly got to her feet and before Chris could react, punched him across the face. He released Jack as he stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor.
“Can’t bring yourself to fight me, so you go after my boyfriend?” Serena asked, “I wish I could say I expected more from you, but this is exactly how I thought you would react.”
Chris was aware then of the amount of people in the hallway. People watching him, saw him get punched by a girl. Still, he was the star football player, and he reminded everyone of that when he dashed out of there.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Jack whispered, his fingers finding the hooks to Serena’s bra.
“What would you have me do?” Serena asked, “Sit there as my boyfriend got pummeled?”
“You have no faith in me.”
Serena smirked, and pressed a finger to Jack’s lips, “I’ve seen you do physical things Jack. You’re not very good in all but one.” Her fingers drifted to his underwear which had formed a nice tent that pointed directly at her. She gave it a nice squeeze, feeling it thicken under her touch, “But you are very good at the one thing.”
They kissed, and then Jack slipped off Serena’s bra. He stared for a second at her breasts. Serena liked seeing him smile at her, looking at her like she was the greatest treasure in the world. She shuddered as his hands went to her breasts, feeling them up. She twitched when his fingers rubbed over her nipples.
“I had a good teacher.” Jack whispered.
“I’m glad I could help.” Serena replied, “Now, I don’t think your underwear needs to still be on, does it?”
Serena had heard what people had said about Jack before, but she didn’t care. He was one of the few people who didn’t treat her like a walking sex machine, and he shared feelings for her. Of course, him having a large cock definitely helped matters, but Serena saw that as just the cherry on top.
A cherry that she liked taking in her mouth. Jack moaned and twitched as she did this for him. She had promised him that if they got through finals that she would do something special for him, and here it was.
He promised he would do something in return another day, but right now Serena just wanted to enjoy this moment. Because she was enjoying this right now. Her fingers were playing with her vagina and she felt herself growing close.
Jack’s breathing grew faster, heavier. She could feel him twitching as she continued to suck him. She didn’t need to ask, and went down on him harder. Within seconds, Jack groaned as he orgasmed, his sperm filling Serena’s mouth. That was enough for to push Serena over the edge as well.
Jack laid naked with Serena on her bed a little while longer. He was pressed against her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want to leave, but it was getting late. Not for the first time, he looked at her and wondered how someone like him could get with someone like her.
She smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Thinking about something?” she asked.
“Just thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
Chris held the book close. He stared at the page before him, there was a spell that, according to the witch, would allow him to swap bodies with someone when morning came. If Serena wouldn’t accept him as he was, maybe he could get with her another way.
All he needed to do was to repeat the spell three times with the image of the person he wanted to swap with in his head. He said the words, chanting it while imagining Jack in his mind. He felt a chill run through him and knew that the spell would work. But, to keep Jack from interfering, he needed to tie up this body. That would be a bit troublesome, but he could manage. He was starting to feel sleepy though and knew that was the spell’s work. He needed to work quickly.
Chris woke up the next morning in a room that wasn’t his own. He looked around, hoping to see Serena lying next to him. No luck though. Jack’s house then.
Even more, he was in Jack’s body. He pulled back the covers and gasped visibly when he saw the tented underwear. He had assumed that the jokes made about Jack’s penis were just jokes but turns out the nerd did have a huge member. He pulled down the underwear and stared at the monster before him.
Jack not only had a hot girlfriend, but a large penis as well. Or well, he had a large penis. Chris remembered as he wrapped his hands around the dick that this was his body now. He groaned as he felt himself becoming more aroused. He imagined himself, in Jack’s body, having sex with Serena and soon felt the orgasm arrive.
It was in the clarity that he remembered that he could’ve used the spell to swap bodies with Serena! He sat up and imagined her, a feat that wasn’t hard for him to do, and then he chanted the words.
Or at least he tried to. He had forgotten the spell, and the book was at his house where his old body was. Jack no doubt knew that something was wrong, but Chris didn’t want to take any chances by going to his own house right now. At the very least, he wanted to have sex with Serena.
Jack struggled against the tape. This wasn’t his body; this wasn’t his house. He needed to escape. His mouth was taped shut so he couldn’t scream, he doubted anyone would have heard him anyway. What happened?
Serena came over as soon as she finished getting dressed. She was surprised when Jack texted her, asking to come over. They had already made plans for the day and it wasn’t like him to forget about them.
He was there when she knocked on the door. “Hey Serena.” He greeted, smirking.
“Hi.” She replied, “So… why were you se excited for me to come over?”
He reached forward and pulled her inside. “I just wanted to see you.” He said, arms snaking around her.
She stiffened as she felt his hands snaking their way inside her clothes. “You’re a bit more excited today, something wrong?”
He looked up at her and pressed himself against her. She felt his hard cock struggling against his jeans. “I’m just glad to see you. So very glad.”
Serena felt something was off. This wasn’t normally how Jack acted. Her suspicions were confirmed when she felt his hand slip its way inside her pants, searching for her pussy. She sucked in a breath, broke free of his embrace and asked him, “What are you doing?”
Jack held up his hands and grinned, “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t realize you were so sensitive about it.”
She growled, “I have told you that I’m not ready for anyone to touch me down there!”
“Sorry, must’ve forgotten.”
Her hands tightened to fist as she glared at the man before her. This wasn’t like Jack; it wasn’t like him at all. “What is wrong with you today?”
He smirked, “I just woke up feeling like a new man.” He chuckled, “Someone who’s going to take what he wants.”
He threw himself at her, hands racing for her clothes. She yelped, and threw him off, knocking him to the ground.
He wheezed. “Fuck, this body is so much weaker than my own,”
She paused. “What did you say?”
Jack laughed, “Guess I dropped the ball there.” He got up, “You see, this isn’t my body, I found I spell that let me switch bodies with this nerd and I won’t switch back until you give me what I want.”
Did he just call Jack… Serena steeled herself, having a good idea of who she was talking to. “Who are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The stranger said, “Now, how about you give me what I want and I’ll get out of here.” He stalked forward and moved quickly, but Serena was faster and stronger. They struggled for a bit, and then Serena had Jack’s body immobilized on the ground. She twisted his arms as the stranger groaned in protest.
“You lowly motherfucker!” she growled, “Chris, I swear to god I will end you!”
“How did you-!”
She twisted his arm further, “Please, the way you talked and how you tried to use strength to subdue me. There’s only one idiot I know who will do that. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Boyfriend!”
“No!” Chris screamed, “I couldn’t if I wanted to! The book is still at my place!”
Serena smiled, “Well I guess we’re going to have to drive to your house then,”
The two of them struggled for a bit, but Chris wasn’t used to being the weaker person. She hated to hurt her boyfriend’s body, but right now it was either that or let this sicko ruin Jack’s life. Jack kept some rope in his garage and after tiring out Chris she was able to get the rope from his garage and came back just before Chris could escape.
She wrapped the rope around him as he reached the front door and had him tied up in a matter of seconds. “You bitch!” he snarled, thrashing against the rope, “You lousy-!”
She slapped him across the face, silencing him, “I’d be mindful of your actions and your own situation before you go accusing people.”
A few of the neighbors might see them traveling to her call, with Jack tied up around his chest. It didn’t matter though, she needed to get to Chris’ house. Chris didn’t put much of a fight as she got him in backseat of her car and began driving off.
“Tell me,” Chris began, “What exactly do you see this guy?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Serena asked.
“I’m still amazed that someone like this had the nerve to ask you out.”
When Chris was back in his own body, Serena wanted nothing more than to crush his balls. “I was the one who asked.”
“What?”
“You never knew? I asked him out. It was one of the scariest moments in my life, and I was happy when he said yes.”
Chris started laughing, “Really? That’s hilarious! So fucking hilarious! Hahaha!”
Serena tightened her grip around the wheel as she drove towards his house.
Jack was tired. He had managed to get himself in a sitting position, but couldn’t do anything about the tape. Then he hard the sound of a car door closing followed by the slam of the house’ door. Someone was home! He started grunting, thrashing against the wall to produce as much noise as possible.
“Found him.”
That voice sounded familiar. Footsteps came upstairs and Jack was happy when he saw Serena open the door, followed closely by his own body! Jack grunted and Serena tossed his old body to the ground and ran towards him.
“Jack! Is that you?” she asked, ripping the tape from his mouth.
“Ah!” Jack screamed, “Yeah, it’s me. That stung.”
She threw her arms around him and started crying, meanwhile Jack saw his own body scowl at what he was seeing. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun trying to switch us back.”
Serena glared at his old body as she reached for a nearby book and began flipping through the pages. “I found the spell. So… looks like I just need to have Jack read it and then you two will switch back?”
His old body glared at her before looking away. Serena looked at whoever was in his own body before looking down at Jack. She smiled, “Well, I suppose that can wait for a bit.”
Jack was confused, but kept his mouth shut. Serena walked over to his old body and placed the duct tape over his mouth. She heard him whisper something to him that made him thrash around before she turned her attention to Jack.
“Sorry about the strange start for the day,” she said, “I think I know a way I can make this good for you.”
“Whose body am I in?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Serena asked, “Chris over there wanted so badly to get with me that he resorted to magic to do so.”
Chris?
Serena undid the tape binding him and Jack flexed his muscles. He was surprised to see them so big. He looked down at his current body and felt powerful.
Serena inched her way towards him and gave him a kiss on the mouth, his fingers trailing on his chest. His hands gripped her gently on her sides as she stripped off her shirt, showing off a lacy black bra. “Go ahead and take it off,” she whispered, “I know that’s your favorite part.”
He did so and found himself admiring possibly the greatest treasure in the world. He lifted them in his hands as Serena sat there smiling at him.
“I will have sex with you, just like you wanted.” Those where the words Serena had spoken to him before she went and started making out with his old body. He struggled against his bindings, but it was no use. He could watch as the two of them were making out. He felt his penis struggling against his jeans at the sight of them.
Chris penis was smaller than Jack’s, thinner as well. But Serena saw that Jack still appreciated her touching it for him. She started off slowly, using one hand to stroke hand, another than teased his testicles, and she would occasionally smile and give him a kiss.
He was standing at full mast now, such a good boy. She saw in his eyes what he wanted, and so she gave it to him. Pausing for a moment, she stripped herself of her pants and socks, leaving nothing to the imagination. Chris moaned behind them, but neither of them gave any care. If it was even possible, Jack’s penis was even harder than before, with a little bit of precum leaking from the tip.
“I love you.” Serena whispered.
“I love you too.” Jack replied.
Her strokes became faster, Jack began breathing harder. His hands went to her breasts, feeling them up as he approached orgasm. When he came, he arched his back and reflexively squeezed her tits. Then he lay there gasping for breath as Serena approached the book lying on the floor.
“Read this.” She said, handing him the page.
Jack looked over the page before looking over at his old body. “You sure you want me to change?” he asked.
Serena kissed him on the cheeks, “I fell in love because of who you are.” She replied, “And I want to be with the man I love, body and soul.”
He whispered the spell and imagined his body in his mind. He felt a cold chill course through and felt himself getting sleepy. “I think… it’s working.”
“Good.” Serena replied, “Hold still for me.”
Jack was dimly aware of her getting more tape and wrapping it around him naked body, but he hardly cared anymore. He was just so tired.
When he came to, he was no longer bound, and was back in his own body. Serena sat naked beside him, smiling as she had a hand on his shoulder. “What were our plans for today?” she asked.
“You wanted to take me shopping to find some new clothes.” Jack replied, “And you wanted to get more paints for yourself as well. Maybe we might’ve gotten something to eat.”
She hugged him, “I’m glad you’re back, but we might need to take a rain check on the first two things.”
Jack chuckled, and winced. “My arm feels sore.”
“Sorry. Chris didn’t want to cooperate.”
“Where is…”
He saw Chris bound and gagged, struggling to free himself from his imprisonment. He was naked as well and glaring at Serena.
She smirked and walked over to him, taking his balls in hand, “You wanted me to touch you, right? That’s what this is all about?”
She crushed his balls in her hand which only made his struggle more. He tried to cry out but was gagged by a piece of duct tape. She grabbed them harder, twisting it. Jack looked away, not even wanting to imagine the pain Chris was going through. He hated him, and he deserved this and way more, but that didn’t mean Jack wanted to see him go through the pain.
“Don’t you ever come near me or my boyfriend again. Got it?”
She stood up and walked over to Jack, “Sorry you had to see that, but it needed to be done. Anything you want to do?”
“If it’s alright with you, I think I’m another round.”
Serena looked at his pants where his penis had made a huge tent. She giggled, “Sure, whatever you want, baby.” And went down on him.
Chris didn’t even struggle, he knew he was trapped and could only watch as those two made out right in front of him. He only hoped that they would free him when this was over.
Serena took the book with them as they left, telling Jack to get in the car. When he was gone she looked down at Chris, “Hope someone comes by for you. I’m going to take this. I wouldn’t try bothering us again if I was you. I know where you live and…” she tapped the book for emphasis, “I know magic now.”
And with that, she left him there.
Chris watched as Serena and Jack walked out of the classroom. They were holding hands, which only made Chris angrier. He still didn’t understand how someone like Jack could have been able to get with someone as hot as Serena. She was taller than most girls, with light red hair, she had an amazing body even if her bust was a bit on the small side. But Chris, along with most guys in his class, had heard rumors about Serena that she was very good in bed.
She was also very good at declining guys as well, often verbally insulting them in the process. He still scowled whenever he remembered the look on her face when he asked if she would go out with him. She called him a pig! A pig! Did she even know who he is?
He was Chris Miller, star of the football team, and one of the strongest and best looking guys in school! How could she?
And then there was Jack. The lanky, awkward, nerd. His face had some scarring from acne, and he was thin as a twig. How the hell did someone like him end up with someone like Serena?
Chris walked over towards the couple who had sat down at a bench in front of one of the classrooms. “Urgh! Mr. Smith’s test was so hard!” Serena complained, “I’m glad it’s over.”
“One of the harder tests I took.” Jack mumbled, “I pretty sure I passed, but I think this might be my lowest score.”
“Hey.” Chris grunted, “Didn’t think I’d see you here. Figured you be out of the test rooms sooner, Jack.”
“He left late because he wanted to check over his answers,” Serena replied, “unlike someone who finishes as fast as he can. Honestly, it’s no surprise you’re as bad as tests as you are in bed.”
Chris coughed, it took him a second to realize what she had said. But Jack figured it out right away, the nerd chuckled as Chris felt himself redden.
His arm lurched forward, pulling Jack closer, “You find something funny, boy?”
Chris wasn’t aware of the students who were in the hallway. Students who now stopped and watched as Serena quickly got to her feet and before Chris could react, punched him across the face. He released Jack as he stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor.
“Can’t bring yourself to fight me, so you go after my boyfriend?” Serena asked, “I wish I could say I expected more from you, but this is exactly how I thought you would react.”
Chris was aware then of the amount of people in the hallway. People watching him, saw him get punched by a girl. Still, he was the star football player, and he reminded everyone of that when he dashed out of there.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Jack whispered, his fingers finding the hooks to Serena’s bra.
“What would you have me do?” Serena asked, “Sit there as my boyfriend got pummeled?”
“You have no faith in me.”
Serena smirked, and pressed a finger to Jack’s lips, “I’ve seen you do physical things Jack. You’re not very good in all but one.” Her fingers drifted to his underwear which had formed a nice tent that pointed directly at her. She gave it a nice squeeze, feeling it thicken under her touch, “But you are very good at the one thing.”
They kissed, and then Jack slipped off Serena’s bra. He stared for a second at her breasts. Serena liked seeing him smile at her, looking at her like she was the greatest treasure in the world. She shuddered as his hands went to her breasts, feeling them up. She twitched when his fingers rubbed over her nipples.
“I had a good teacher.” Jack whispered.
“I’m glad I could help.” Serena replied, “Now, I don’t think your underwear needs to still be on, does it?”
Serena had heard what people had said about Jack before, but she didn’t care. He was one of the few people who didn’t treat her like a walking sex machine, and he shared feelings for her. Of course, him having a large cock definitely helped matters, but Serena saw that as just the cherry on top.
A cherry that she liked taking in her mouth. Jack moaned and twitched as she did this for him. She had promised him that if they got through finals that she would do something special for him, and here it was.
He promised he would do something in return another day, but right now Serena just wanted to enjoy this moment. Because she was enjoying this right now. Her fingers were playing with her vagina and she felt herself growing close.
Jack’s breathing grew faster, heavier. She could feel him twitching as she continued to suck him. She didn’t need to ask, and went down on him harder. Within seconds, Jack groaned as he orgasmed, his sperm filling Serena’s mouth. That was enough for to push Serena over the edge as well.
Jack laid naked with Serena on her bed a little while longer. He was pressed against her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want to leave, but it was getting late. Not for the first time, he looked at her and wondered how someone like him could get with someone like her.
She smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Thinking about something?” she asked.
“Just thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
Chris held the book close. He stared at the page before him, there was a spell that, according to the witch, would allow him to swap bodies with someone when morning came. If Serena wouldn’t accept him as he was, maybe he could get with her another way.
All he needed to do was to repeat the spell three times with the image of the person he wanted to swap with in his head. He said the words, chanting it while imagining Jack in his mind. He felt a chill run through him and knew that the spell would work. But, to keep Jack from interfering, he needed to tie up this body. That would be a bit troublesome, but he could manage. He was starting to feel sleepy though and knew that was the spell’s work. He needed to work quickly.
Chris woke up the next morning in a room that wasn’t his own. He looked around, hoping to see Serena lying next to him. No luck though. Jack’s house then.
Even more, he was in Jack’s body. He pulled back the covers and gasped visibly when he saw the tented underwear. He had assumed that the jokes made about Jack’s penis were just jokes but turns out the nerd did have a huge member. He pulled down the underwear and stared at the monster before him.
Jack not only had a hot girlfriend, but a large penis as well. Or well, he had a large penis. Chris remembered as he wrapped his hands around the dick that this was his body now. He groaned as he felt himself becoming more aroused. He imagined himself, in Jack’s body, having sex with Serena and soon felt the orgasm arrive.
It was in the clarity that he remembered that he could’ve used the spell to swap bodies with Serena! He sat up and imagined her, a feat that wasn’t hard for him to do, and then he chanted the words.
Or at least he tried to. He had forgotten the spell, and the book was at his house where his old body was. Jack no doubt knew that something was wrong, but Chris didn’t want to take any chances by going to his own house right now. At the very least, he wanted to have sex with Serena.
Jack struggled against the tape. This wasn’t his body; this wasn’t his house. He needed to escape. His mouth was taped shut so he couldn’t scream, he doubted anyone would have heard him anyway. What happened?
Serena came over as soon as she finished getting dressed. She was surprised when Jack texted her, asking to come over. They had already made plans for the day and it wasn’t like him to forget about them.
He was there when she knocked on the door. “Hey Serena.” He greeted, smirking.
“Hi.” She replied, “So… why were you se excited for me to come over?”
He reached forward and pulled her inside. “I just wanted to see you.” He said, arms snaking around her.
She stiffened as she felt his hands snaking their way inside her clothes. “You’re a bit more excited today, something wrong?”
He looked up at her and pressed himself against her. She felt his hard cock struggling against his jeans. “I’m just glad to see you. So very glad.”
Serena felt something was off. This wasn’t normally how Jack acted. Her suspicions were confirmed when she felt his hand slip its way inside her pants, searching for her pussy. She sucked in a breath, broke free of his embrace and asked him, “What are you doing?”
Jack held up his hands and grinned, “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t realize you were so sensitive about it.”
She growled, “I have told you that I’m not ready for anyone to touch me down there!”
“Sorry, must’ve forgotten.”
Her hands tightened to fist as she glared at the man before her. This wasn’t like Jack; it wasn’t like him at all. “What is wrong with you today?”
He smirked, “I just woke up feeling like a new man.” He chuckled, “Someone who’s going to take what he wants.”
He threw himself at her, hands racing for her clothes. She yelped, and threw him off, knocking him to the ground.
He wheezed. “Fuck, this body is so much weaker than my own,”
She paused. “What did you say?”
Jack laughed, “Guess I dropped the ball there.” He got up, “You see, this isn’t my body, I found I spell that let me switch bodies with this nerd and I won’t switch back until you give me what I want.”
Did he just call Jack… Serena steeled herself, having a good idea of who she was talking to. “Who are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The stranger said, “Now, how about you give me what I want and I’ll get out of here.” He stalked forward and moved quickly, but Serena was faster and stronger. They struggled for a bit, and then Serena had Jack’s body immobilized on the ground. She twisted his arms as the stranger groaned in protest.
“You lowly motherfucker!” she growled, “Chris, I swear to god I will end you!”
“How did you-!”
She twisted his arm further, “Please, the way you talked and how you tried to use strength to subdue me. There’s only one idiot I know who will do that. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Boyfriend!”
“No!” Chris screamed, “I couldn’t if I wanted to! The book is still at my place!”
Serena smiled, “Well I guess we’re going to have to drive to your house then,”
The two of them struggled for a bit, but Chris wasn’t used to being the weaker person. She hated to hurt her boyfriend’s body, but right now it was either that or let this sicko ruin Jack’s life. Jack kept some rope in his garage and after tiring out Chris she was able to get the rope from his garage and came back just before Chris could escape.
She wrapped the rope around him as he reached the front door and had him tied up in a matter of seconds. “You bitch!” he snarled, thrashing against the rope, “You lousy-!”
She slapped him across the face, silencing him, “I’d be mindful of your actions and your own situation before you go accusing people.”
A few of the neighbors might see them traveling to her call, with Jack tied up around his chest. It didn’t matter though, she needed to get to Chris’ house. Chris didn’t put much of a fight as she got him in backseat of her car and began driving off.
“Tell me,” Chris began, “What exactly do you see this guy?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Serena asked.
“I’m still amazed that someone like this had the nerve to ask you out.”
When Chris was back in his own body, Serena wanted nothing more than to crush his balls. “I was the one who asked.”
“What?”
“You never knew? I asked him out. It was one of the scariest moments in my life, and I was happy when he said yes.”
Chris started laughing, “Really? That’s hilarious! So fucking hilarious! Hahaha!”
Serena tightened her grip around the wheel as she drove towards his house.
Jack was tired. He had managed to get himself in a sitting position, but couldn’t do anything about the tape. Then he hard the sound of a car door closing followed by the slam of the house’ door. Someone was home! He started grunting, thrashing against the wall to produce as much noise as possible.
“Found him.”
That voice sounded familiar. Footsteps came upstairs and Jack was happy when he saw Serena open the door, followed closely by his own body! Jack grunted and Serena tossed his old body to the ground and ran towards him.
“Jack! Is that you?” she asked, ripping the tape from his mouth.
“Ah!” Jack screamed, “Yeah, it’s me. That stung.”
She threw her arms around him and started crying, meanwhile Jack saw his own body scowl at what he was seeing. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun trying to switch us back.”
Serena glared at his old body as she reached for a nearby book and began flipping through the pages. “I found the spell. So… looks like I just need to have Jack read it and then you two will switch back?”
His old body glared at her before looking away. Serena looked at whoever was in his own body before looking down at Jack. She smiled, “Well, I suppose that can wait for a bit.”
Jack was confused, but kept his mouth shut. Serena walked over to his old body and placed the duct tape over his mouth. She heard him whisper something to him that made him thrash around before she turned her attention to Jack.
“Sorry about the strange start for the day,” she said, “I think I know a way I can make this good for you.”
“Whose body am I in?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Serena asked, “Chris over there wanted so badly to get with me that he resorted to magic to do so.”
Chris?
Serena undid the tape binding him and Jack flexed his muscles. He was surprised to see them so big. He looked down at his current body and felt powerful.
Serena inched her way towards him and gave him a kiss on the mouth, his fingers trailing on his chest. His hands gripped her gently on her sides as she stripped off her shirt, showing off a lacy black bra. “Go ahead and take it off,” she whispered, “I know that’s your favorite part.”
He did so and found himself admiring possibly the greatest treasure in the world. He lifted them in his hands as Serena sat there smiling at him.
“I will have sex with you, just like you wanted.” Those where the words Serena had spoken to him before she went and started making out with his old body. He struggled against his bindings, but it was no use. He could watch as the two of them were making out. He felt his penis struggling against his jeans at the sight of them.
Chris penis was smaller than Jack’s, thinner as well. But Serena saw that Jack still appreciated her touching it for him. She started off slowly, using one hand to stroke hand, another than teased his testicles, and she would occasionally smile and give him a kiss.
He was standing at full mast now, such a good boy. She saw in his eyes what he wanted, and so she gave it to him. Pausing for a moment, she stripped herself of her pants and socks, leaving nothing to the imagination. Chris moaned behind them, but neither of them gave any care. If it was even possible, Jack’s penis was even harder than before, with a little bit of precum leaking from the tip.
“I love you.” Serena whispered.
“I love you too.” Jack replied.
Her strokes became faster, Jack began breathing harder. His hands went to her breasts, feeling them up as he approached orgasm. When he came, he arched his back and reflexively squeezed her tits. Then he lay there gasping for breath as Serena approached the book lying on the floor.
“Read this.” She said, handing him the page.
Jack looked over the page before looking over at his old body. “You sure you want me to change?” he asked.
Serena kissed him on the cheeks, “I fell in love because of who you are.” She replied, “And I want to be with the man I love, body and soul.”
He whispered the spell and imagined his body in his mind. He felt a cold chill course through and felt himself getting sleepy. “I think… it’s working.”
“Good.” Serena replied, “Hold still for me.”
Jack was dimly aware of her getting more tape and wrapping it around him naked body, but he hardly cared anymore. He was just so tired.
When he came to, he was no longer bound, and was back in his own body. Serena sat naked beside him, smiling as she had a hand on his shoulder. “What were our plans for today?” she asked.
“You wanted to take me shopping to find some new clothes.” Jack replied, “And you wanted to get more paints for yourself as well. Maybe we might’ve gotten something to eat.”
She hugged him, “I’m glad you’re back, but we might need to take a rain check on the first two things.”
Jack chuckled, and winced. “My arm feels sore.”
“Sorry. Chris didn’t want to cooperate.”
“Where is…”
He saw Chris bound and gagged, struggling to free himself from his imprisonment. He was naked as well and glaring at Serena.
She smirked and walked over to him, taking his balls in hand, “You wanted me to touch you, right? That’s what this is all about?”
She crushed his balls in her hand which only made his struggle more. He tried to cry out but was gagged by a piece of duct tape. She grabbed them harder, twisting it. Jack looked away, not even wanting to imagine the pain Chris was going through. He hated him, and he deserved this and way more, but that didn’t mean Jack wanted to see him go through the pain.
“Don’t you ever come near me or my boyfriend again. Got it?”
She stood up and walked over to Jack, “Sorry you had to see that, but it needed to be done. Anything you want to do?”
“If it’s alright with you, I think I’m another round.”
Serena looked at his pants where his penis had made a huge tent. She giggled, “Sure, whatever you want, baby.” And went down on him.
Chris didn’t even struggle, he knew he was trapped and could only watch as those two made out right in front of him. He only hoped that they would free him when this was over.
Serena took the book with them as they left, telling Jack to get in the car. When he was gone she looked down at Chris, “Hope someone comes by for you. I’m going to take this. I wouldn’t try bothering us again if I was you. I know where you live and…” she tapped the book for emphasis, “I know magic now.”
And with that, she left him there.
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Ben and Emma are teenagers who go to the same high school and have been next door neighbors since they were kids. But after drifting apart for a few years, can a body swapping app bring them back together? What does it mean for Emma's burgeoning with the school bully, Jake?
This story covers the first half of the commission, due to length. The second half will be written and published in the coming weeks seperately.
Ben moved slowly through the bustling halls of Lincoln High, his face buried in the latest issue of Lunar Phantom, a new manga series he'd recently gotten into. He was an ordinary high school boy of medium build, with glasses perched precariously on his nose, hair unruly in a fashion that spoke more of negligence than style. His anime-themed backpack was more an advertisement of his passions than a call to belong.
A sudden shout jolted him from his colorful world of dragons and mythical creatures. It was a voice he knew well. A voice that made his insides shrink and twist. Jake.
Jake towered over the crowd, a behemoth in a letterman jacket, rippling muscles hinted at beneath the cloth. His presence was as chilling as a harsh winter's breeze, causing the sea of students to part as he strode towards Ben, eyes gleaming with a harsh intensity that promised trouble.
"Hey, nerd," Jake sneered, swatting the manga from Ben's hands, sending it flying across the hallway. The bright panels of Lunar Phantom lay scattered on the floor, a stark contrast against the dull linoleum. The hallway fell silent, eyes darting from Ben to Jake and back, anticipation hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.
"Whoops” laughed Jake. “Looks like you dropped your comic book!” Jake smirked at him like it was the funniest thing ever.
Ben reached down to pick up the scattered pages, hands shaking, but Jake's boot descended onto the colorful paper, grinding it under his heel. The snickers of Jake's friends echo’d around them.
“Oi, Jake” a male voice said, gesturing.
Around the corner came a beautiful girl wearing a cheerleader's uniform, and Jake quickly abandoned his mockery. He straightened up, pushing Ben to the side, and strode towards Emma. Left alone in the wake of the bully's departure, Ben clenched his jaw, simmering in a mix of embarrassment and resentment.
Emma was laughing, her blonde hair bouncing as she gestured animatedly at something one of her friends said. A group had gathered around her, attracted by the radiant cheerleader who had a kind word for everyone.
"Hey, Emma," Jake called out, causing Emma to turn towards him. Her blue eyes widened in surprise before being replaced by a warm smile.
"Hey, Jake," she replied, her voice melodic. She adjusted the red and white pompoms in her hand as she greeted him. They must have just come from practice.
The sight of Jake and Emma laughing together caused a sour taste to rise in Ben's mouth. He watched as Jake threw his arm casually over Emma's shoulder, making her giggle. Every smile she flashed at Jake was a jab at Ben's pride.
"Hey, so I was thinking," Jake began, his voice slipping into a softer tone as he leaned in closer to Emma. "Hell-o-saurus is coming out on Thursday. Thought maybe we could check it out together?"
Emma looked surprised for a moment, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Sure,," she replied, "I'd like that."
Ben clenched his fist. Of all the things… He watched as Jake gave Emma a triumphant grin and squeezed her shoulder lightly before he pushed off the lockers and ambled away, leaving a starstruck Emma behind.
Ben waited for a moment, the taste of his own defeat still bitter on his tongue. Finally, gathering his scattered manga and the remaining shreds of his pride, he approached Emma.
"What's so great about him?" Ben grumbled, giving voice to the annoyance he'd been nursing.
Emma jumped, startled. "Oh, Ben!" she said, her surprise quickly replaced by a soft smile. "I didn't see you there."
Ben scowled, his eyes following the figure of the retreating bully. "What do you even see in him?"
Emma shrugged, her smile fading slightly. "Ah, I don’t know. He's... nice, you know?" she replied, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "Confident, protective. He knows what he wants, you know? But isn’t pushy or desperate to get it."
"Yeah, nice," Ben muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm. “And not pushy…” he rubbed his shoulder where Ben had literally pushed him against the lockers. He stared at Emma, part of him wondering what it would be like to be her. How differently people treated them just because of their appearance. If he was her… well, he’d be able to dump Jake at least.
He smirked as he imagined Jake’s face, Emma’s body telling him exactly what Ben wanted.
“Anyway, it was nice to see you, Ben” Emma said as she turned back to her cheerleader friends. They quickly got to gossiping about the upcoming date, leaving Ben totally ignored and alone.
___________________________
Later that evening, Ben sat hunched over his laptop, the soft glow of the screen the only illumination. He’d been clicking around, bored and uninspired, when he came across a forum talking about body swapping. And talking about it way more seriously then he’d seen before. A role play group?
“NewYou is wild” read the opening post of a thread that caught Ben's attention. A few quick clicks later, he was deep into the thread, engrossed in the accounts shared by the anonymous users, all apparently claiming to have swapped bodies.
“Experienced NewYou for the first time last week with my gym buddy. It was hilarious and weird. Flexing muscles I didn't even know existed and tasting food for the first time without my nut allergy was something else. Having to bench press twice my original weight was cool.”
“Okay, so I swapped with my younger sis, thought it would be a piece of cake. Boy, it was weird. I lost about a foot of height, and everybody treated me real different. She was massively embarrassing in my body too. Bleh! On the upside, I aced a history test for her, so I think she owes me for that.”
“You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I swapped with my cat because my friend Stace dared me to on a sleepover. BAD IDEA! As soon as we swapped, the cat in my old body went kinda crazy. She swiped at me, and do you KNOW how weird it is to get hit by your own hand!?! Stace had to hold her down for us to swap back. 7/5 with rice LOL!”
Thread after thread, post after post, the users' casual discussions about swapping bodies sent Ben's heart racing. They described the shock of waking up in a new body, the strange feeling of looking into a mirror and seeing someone else's face, the sheer thrill of walking in someone else's shoes. Literally!
He had to get in on this.
It turned out downloading the app wasn’t too difficult. You needed to put your phone into developer mode and hook it up to a computer, but essentially you could just download the software from the website and run it. Both people needed to do it on separate phones though, and both needed to agree to swap. That was the tricky part - Ben didn’t know who might want to swap with him of all people.
Unless…
"Emma," Ben mumbled to himself, the idea no longer an impossibility. It was as if the universe was answering his prayers. His mind raced with potential scenarios, all the things he could do. He could finally show Emma the real Jake, he could experience what it was like to be popular, and who knew, maybe he'd enjoy cheerleading. She was always pretty open to trying new things… who knows, maybe she’d do it as a favor?
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out of his house. The evening air was cool against his face, and the usually short journey to Emma's house felt like it took ages. He stood in front of her white picket fence, swallowed his nervousness, and walked up to the front door.
He rapped on the door lightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Emma’s mom answered the door, and with a surprised smile, she let him in. Emma's house had always been a home away from home for Ben when they were younger. The familiar smells and sounds brought back a wave of nostalgia.
Ben found Emma in her room, sitting on her bed, her cheerleader uniform discarded in favor of comfy pajamas. Her room was filled with cheerleading trophies, pop posters, and make-up scattered across her dressing table.
“Oh! Hey, Ben!” Emma exclaimed, surprised but clearly pleased. “What are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Oh, what is it?" Emma asked, sitting up straight, her face filled with curiosity.
"Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Even if it was just for a day?"
She looked at him quizzically, her head tilted to one side. "Um, no, not really. I mean I’ve been curious about–” she stopped talking, “Why are you asking?"
Ben took out his phone, showing her the NewYou app he had just downloaded.
"Because," he said, his heart pounding in his chest, "I think we can."
Emma looked at the screen of Ben's phone, frowning slightly. "NewYou? Is this some sort of game?"
"No, it's not a game," Ben said, shaking his head. "It's an app. It lets two people swap bodies."
He held his breath, waiting for Emma's reaction. She stared at the screen for a moment longer before bursting into laughter. "That's ridiculous! There's no way such a thing is real. You can't seriously believe this, Ben."
Ben didn't waver, didn't retract his statement. He had expected her to be skeptical. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think it's worth a try. Think about it, Emma. What if you could see the world from a different perspective? Wouldn't you like to experience what it's like to be someone else?"
Emma stopped laughing, considering his words. She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
He nodded, keeping his gaze steady on hers. "I am."
A thoughtful silence filled the room as Emma took in his words. Ben could see the gears turning in her head. He knew her well enough to know that she was considering it. Emma was always up for a challenge, always ready to try new things. That was one of the things he admired about her.
Finally, she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Okay, let's say I believe you. And let's say I'm willing to give this a shot. Why would you want to swap bodies with me?"
Ben considered his words carefully. "To see the world differently. You’re popular, you’re cool, people look up to you, and you’re, you know…” he gestured at her.
She giggled. “Hot?”
“I was going to say ‘a girl’, but yeah, that too.”
She punched him on the arm. “Alright Cinderella! You better not ruin this view when I get back to it!” She looked down at herself, stretching her arms out.
Ben exhaled, relief washing over him. He grinned at Emma, excitement buzzing in his veins.
Emma downloaded the app on her phone, following Ben's instructions, then they both opened it and Ben initiated the request to swap. Emma accepted it with a quick tap on her screen.
Their screens flickered for a moment.
“I don’t think anything happened.” said Emma, unsurprised. “God you almost had me going there!”
“No, no, wait” said Ben. “I can feel something.”
His hands and feet had begun tingling, and his stomach felt like it was dropping. Down. Away.
Ben blinked and found himself sitting on the other side of the room.
His phone buzzed. “Swap successful. Enjoy your NewYou!"
Ben gasped and looked down at his hands. Delicate fingers, manicured nails instead of his usual large and bony hands.
"Oh my god," Ben whispered, looking up at Emma. His voice was higher, softer. Emma's voice. His heart raced as he reached up to touch his - no, her - face, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers.
He looked at Emma, who seemed to be going through a similar realization. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she looked down at her - his - hands.
"Ben," she said, her voice lower, rougher. Ben's voice. "I think it worked."
Ben could only nod, his mind racing with the possibilities. They had done it. They had swapped bodies! And… easily! How was this not in every media outlet? How was this not all over the internet?!
Still clutching the phone in his dainty hands, Ben stood up, surprised by the effort it took. He looked down. The ground seemed closer than normal, as if he wasn’t standing up at all. He gingerly touched the soft fabric of the sweater he was wearing, and the gentle curve of the waist beneath it. He felt light, free, different. He very deliberately didn’t touch the breasts that were now hanging on his chest, not when their former owner was standing just a few feet away, though he felt them jiggle as he moved.
Emma, standing awkwardly in Ben’s body, snorted. “This is so weird,” she grumbled, adjusting the baggy jeans. She tried to cross her arms, a habit of hers, but found the movement unfamiliar and slightly awkward.
Then, she turned to look at her own body, now occupied by Ben. She raised a hand and brushed her own hair out of her former eyes.
Seeing her own face from an outsider's perspective was strange, almost surreal. She frowned as she gently tracing the contours of the face she knew so well, yet was now so alien. The long lashes, the soft lips, the small mole on the left cheek - everything was the same and yet, so very different.
"Wow," she breathed out, her voice deep and rough. "I didn't realize... I mean, you're… I'm… pretty."
Ben blushed, a pink hue appearing on his - no, her - fair cheeks. It was a strange sensation. His skin tingling, heart pounding in a chest that was no longer his.
“Yeah, you… I mean, I…” Ben stammered, flustered and unsure how to respond to that. “This is a lot to take in.”
There was a pause as the reality of their situation sunk in. They had swapped bodies, an impossible event made reality by an obscure app and a moment of daring curiosity.
"Let's just... take it slow, okay?" Emma finally broke the silence. She gestured to a mirror on the wall. "Maybe we should start with getting used to our new appearances."
And so they did. They stood in front of the mirror, marveling at the reflection that looked back at them. There was Ben, there was Emma. But the reflection of Ben wasn’t where it should be – it was two feet to the left of where it should be! Weird.
Just as they were starting to make peace with their reflections, a knock echoed through the room, followed by a muffled voice. "Emma, honey, dinner's ready."
Emma's - or rather, Ben's - eyes widened. He quickly turned to look at Emma, panic flickering in his gaze. She seemed calmer. “Well, you wanted to experience being me!”
"I know," he said, trying to steady his racing heart. "I have to go. I can do this. I can pretend to be you for one evening."
Emma was silent for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. "Just... be careful, okay?" she finally said, her tone serious. "And text me if anything happens."
Ben nodded, giving her a small, assuring smile. Then, with a last look at the mirror, he left the room, his new ponytail bouncing with each step he took.
Dinner was a rollercoaster of emotions for Ben. Emma's parents were lovely people, he found, even if her younger brother was quite the pest. He did his best to act like Emma, mimicking her speech patterns and mannerisms. He laughed at her father's puns and helped her mother serve the salad. It was going well until dessert.
As he was reaching for a piece of pie, his sleeve snagged the bowl of cream, sending it splattering all over himself and the tablecloth. A gasp ran through the room, and Ben felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh, Emma!" her mother exclaimed, rushing to wipe the mess with a napkin. "That's not like you at all."
Ben blushed and apologized.
“I guess you better go have a shower and clean up. Don’t worry about it down here.”
Oh.
Oh no.
_______________________
Meanwhile, back at Ben's place, Emma was trying to navigate Ben's life. His parents were nice enough, though they asked a lot of questions about school and her - Ben's - future. She smiled and nodded, providing vague answers when she could. She even played a round of video games with Ben's 13 year old sister. It was a novelty for Emma, who had never been much of a gamer. But, it was nice, she thought. Different, but nice.
They were loading a new level when her phone buzzed. A message from ‘Emma’.
“Hey, so, um, I spilled some pie all over you.”
For some reason Ben had also sent a picture. It was an angled selfie, showed Emma’s body standing alone in her room, barefoot, clothes askew, and still covered in pie
“Should I- change and shower?”
Emma paused. Obviously? She wasn’t sure when he expected, if they were going to be each other for a few days. Was he never going to use the toilet too?
She texted back a “Yes, of course. Don’t wet my hair.” and got back to the game.
_____________________
As the first tendrils of sunlight began to stretch across the sky, Ben, in Emma's lithe frame, and Emma, housed within Ben's gangly body, stood side by side at the bus stop. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of dew-soaked grass.
They stood in silence, each immersed in the thoughts of their extraordinary circumstance.
"Your brother is quite the early bird, isn't he?" Ben finally broke the silence, his voice soft with Emma's familiar lilt. He was fiddling with a thread on Emma's pink scarf, not meeting her gaze. “He woke me up by diving on top of me at six in the morning.”
Emma giggled, the sound strange in the deeper resonance of Ben's voice. "Yeah, he'll do that. Any trouble after the pie incident?"
Ben blushed. “I swear I didn’t look at anything I shouldn’t have!”
Emma giggled again. “Well you better have cleaned everything you should have! I certainly enjoyed not having to sit down to pee this morning.”
“You mean you’ve seen-”
“What did you expect, you dolt! I’m inside your body!” Emma spread her arms wide, as if showing him who she was.
“It gets bigger…” Ben muttered
“Oh, I know”
“Wait- what–”
Their casual conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their school bus. The familiar yellow behemoth lumbered into view, its tires crunching on the gravel. They climbed aboard, momentarily parting ways to their respective seats.
No sooner had they settled down than a chorus of high-pitched squeals rang through the bus. A gaggle of Emma's friends, a vibrant assortment of high school girls, were waving energetically at Ben.
"Emma! Get over here!" they called out voices bubbling with enthusiasm.
Ben shot Emma a puzzled look, to which she responded with a smirk. "Go on. It will be good for you."
With a sigh that was equal parts resignation and nervous excitement, Ben rose and joined Emma's friends. Their conversation was a whirlwind of girlish chatter, an onslaught of cheerleading stories, crush confessions, and fashion advice. Soon, one of the girls produced a top from a bags, a beautiful, silky number that made Ben's new heart flutter.
"This would look SO good on you, Emma!" one of them gushed, holding the top up against Ben's body. "The color would really bring out your eyes!"
Feeling a warm blush creep up his cheeks, Ben nodded and thanked them, feeling an odd pang of guilt for the deceit. He was not Emma, and yet, he was playing her part, basking in her social glow. A small part of him felt like a fraud. Plus the shirt was… rather revealing. It would show off his cleavage and belly button at once. He tried to turn his head to see what Emma thought, but he couldn’t get a good look.
“I wanted to give it to you for your date with Jake” the girl continued, unabated. “He’s got a thing for midriffs, Jess told me that when she was dating him, he…”
From the back of the bus, Emma was watching the entire spectacle unfold. An unfamiliar twinge of jealousy gnawed at her as she saw Ben - or rather, her body - being swept away into the mirthful chatter of her friends. She was left there, alone, in Ben's body, a spectator in her own life.
But amidst that feeling, there was also a sense of intrigue. Observing Ben navigate the complexities of her social life was enlightening, to say the least. He wasn’t being especially suave, but her friends seemed so understanding and patient with him- her- she should really appreciate them more. An off day? Nobody was batting an eye.
As the bus pulled up at the school, Ben was swept away with Emma’s friends, while Emma followed slowly behind, left alone by everyone. Ben was just beginning to get comfortable with their cheerful chatter when a friend, Amanda, suddenly leaned in and squinted at Ben's face.
"Oh my god, Emma!" Amanda gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. "What happened to your makeup? It looks like a two-year-old attacked your face with crayons."
The group of girls burst into laughter, their high-pitched giggles echoing around the bus. Ben felt heat rushing to his cheeks. He’d tried his hand at a bit of powder that morning, but he didn’t think it was that bad. He looked at Emma, who gave him an empathetic shrug. The world of makeup was a mystery to Ben, a chapter in the book of femininity he had never even flipped through.
"Well, we can't let you go around looking like that," Amanda declared, standing up. She took Ben's hand and started pulling him towards the bathroom. "We need to fix this, now."
As Amanda began to work on Ben's face, he watched his reflection in the mirror. It was surreal, seeing Amanda's hands move across his face, feeling the soft brush against his skin, but not recognizing the face that stared back at him. It was a face he was familiar with - Emma's face - but it was also a stranger's.
"Trust me, you'll look so much better after this," Amanda chatted away, her voice a comforting hum in the background. Ben listened to her and the other girls as they talked about the latest school gossip, their plans for the weekend, the new teacher everyone was crushing on.
The chatter was mundane, the kind of stuff Ben usually tuned out, but in this setting, it felt oddly intimate. He felt like he was getting a peek into a secret world, a glimpse into the life Emma led when he wasn't around.
Eventually, Amanda stepped back, her work done. Ben looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were subtly lined, his cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, his lips a soft pink. He looked like Emma. And, strangely enough, he felt like Emma too.
"There," Amanda said, beaming at him. "Much better."
Ben blinked at his reflection, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. But for now, he was just Emma, living her life, one makeup touch-up at a time.
_______________________
Emma, inside Ben's body, could not escape the sensation of strangeness that filled her every step. Even the simple act of walking was different, the additional height and strength both a wonder and a challenge. She found herself bumping into things more often, her perception of her body's dimensions no longer accurate.
The bell for gym class rang just as she was getting a hang of her new stride. She watched as Ben was dragged off into the women’s change room by her classmates, and she sighed and headed into the boys. It was loud and smelly, but she was able to change undisturbed, her new bony fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar fabric of Ben's gym kit.
Basketball was the chosen game of the day, a game Emma had always played, but never particularly excelled at. She was too short to really have much of a chance. But as she stepped onto the court in Ben's body, she felt a surge of energy she had never experienced before. Her fingers closed around the leather ball with a certainty that surprised her. She could even hold the ball in one hand!
The first few minutes of the game were a chaos of movement. Emma watched her classmates as they moved across the court, noting their strategies, the ways they used their bodies to block or pass. Her own body responded in ways she wasn't expecting. It was taller, faster, stronger. Who knew that Ben’s body contained such power?
To her amazement, she found herself actually enjoying the game. She could shoot, pass and defend with ease. Her body moved with a fluidity she had never known, each move instinctive, as though she had been playing this way for years. The ball seemed to follow her command, the hoop an easy target.
As the game continued, Emma became more and more confident. She dodged her opponents, her new height providing her with an advantage she had never had before. She was making shots that she would have only dreamed of making in her own body.
She looked at the scoreboard. Her team was in the lead, and she had been a significant contributor. Her eyes met Ben's - or rather her own - standing on the sidelines, and she saw a look of surprise. Emma smiled, a small sense of pride washing over her.
When the final whistle blew, her team had won, and she found herself surrounded by her cheering classmates, guys slapping on the back, rustling her hair, making her feel proud! They would never do that to her in her own body! It was like all of the distance that she usually felt between herself and guys had disappeared, there was no awkwardness in the touching, no creepiness in the looks. They just slapped her on the back and cheered.
Emma realized then, under the bright lights of the gym, that she was living a day in Ben's shoes that she would never have experienced in her own body. For the first time, she felt a strange sense of gratitude towards the body swap. It wasn't all bad, after all.
__________________
Meanwhile, Ben had been navigating through the labyrinth of Emma's school day, filled with its own unique challenges. There was an increased attention to detail, an amplified sensitivity to social cues, an intricate dance of interactions that he was not familiar with.
When it was time for gym class, something that Ben had always dreaded, he found himself lucky enough to be on the sidelines, designated as one of the scorekeepers.
As the game started, his attention was drawn to his own body on the basketball court. Emma actually seemed to be enjoying herself! And not just enjoying herself, she was good! He watched in awe as she swiped the ball from an opposing player with a quickness he didn’t know his body was capable of, and then sprinted down the court before passing the ball hard and fast to a teammate who scored.
She was good, better than good. In his body, Emma was making shots that neither of them could have done in their own forms. What gives! She was moving with a confidence, a certain ease that was strangely mesmerizing.
He found himself clapping along with the others, cheering each time she scored a point. It was surreal, watching his own body perform so well under someone else's control. At the same time, he felt a kind of jealousy. How come he couldn’t play like that? A team mate whooped as Emma scored again, and high fived his old body as they ran up the court together. Ben didn’t even know that guy’s name. Why couldn’t he be popular like that?
As the final whistle blew, he watched as Emma's team celebrated their victory, watched as his own body was surrounded by cheering classmates, hugged and slapped and lifted up in the air. Ben clapped quietly, feeling strange, but when Emma jogged passed, she beamed at him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
He followed Emma’s friends back into the girls’ change room, and couldn’t help but chuckle as they chatted about “Ben's” newfound skills. One of them even wondered if he was single!
What the hell was going on?
______________________________________
The lunchroom was buzzing with activity as Ben took a seat at Emma's usual spot, surrounded by her friends. He got a salad. That’s the kind of thing Emma usually ate, right?
He found himself laughing and giggling with the other girls. Something inside him had relaxed a bit and he was having fun exaggerating his body’s exploits with them.
“Oh yeah” Ben said, “And his arms are super muscular!”
One of the girls laughed. “Oh shove off it, Emma! Now you’re just being silly!”
“But speaking of big arms…” another girl said with a grin.
Ben looked up, expecting to see Emma in his body. Instead, he was confronted by Jake, a smug, condescending grin on his face.
"Hey Emma," Jake greeted, seeming to dazzle everyone else at the table. "Looking gorgeous today, as usual."
Ben blushed. This was so weird.
“Uh…”
“So, I was thinking after our date on Thursday we could head up to the river. My Dad said I could borrow his BMW for the night. What do you reckon?”
Ewwwww god no! Ben was in no place to be thinking about that. He’d only been a girl for 12 hours or so!
“Uh, no, no thank you.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Ben looked down at himself. His lithe body, bare legs, perfect skin. Fuck Jake, he didn’t need to justify himself. The whole point of becoming Emma was so that he could feel what it was like to be socially powerful, daring, bold! And… he could do whatever he wanted!
“Because.. you’re a brainless moron.” he said, a slight smirk coming onto his face. Emma’s face! He was doing it! Emma was dumping Jake!
Jake’s mouth opened slightly, and he frowned, more confused than upset.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re a bully. You’re mean. You’re an ugly, flat footed, stupid, neanderthal, um… dumb… just awful person!”
“What? But I thought-”
“And everybody hates you.” he added, just for good measure.
Jake clenched his jaw.
“So fuck off, actually, yeah fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of. I never want to see you again!”
Ben smirked. That felt good.
Jake's face paled, shock evident in his blue eyes. There was an agonizingly long pause as the words hung in the air, the cafeteria around them a blur of stares and whispers.
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Ben at the center of attention at the table, the girls still wide-eyed and silent.
Ben’s smug grin faded as he looked around the table, seeing the shock on the faces of Emma's friends. Surely it wasn’t that bad? Jake was an awful human. Emma would get over it. Besides, it was in her best interests not to end up with somebody like that.
These thoughts did little to help stop the sinking feeling in Ben’s stomach as he saw Emma gaping at him from across the room. She started to storm over to him, then stopped, seeming to change her mind, and scampered out of the room after Jake, tears in her eyes.
Ah.
Yes.
That was kind of mean. Just not to Jake.
To Be Continued.
This story covers the first half of the commission, due to length. The second half will be written and published in the coming weeks seperately.
Ben moved slowly through the bustling halls of Lincoln High, his face buried in the latest issue of Lunar Phantom, a new manga series he'd recently gotten into. He was an ordinary high school boy of medium build, with glasses perched precariously on his nose, hair unruly in a fashion that spoke more of negligence than style. His anime-themed backpack was more an advertisement of his passions than a call to belong.
A sudden shout jolted him from his colorful world of dragons and mythical creatures. It was a voice he knew well. A voice that made his insides shrink and twist. Jake.
Jake towered over the crowd, a behemoth in a letterman jacket, rippling muscles hinted at beneath the cloth. His presence was as chilling as a harsh winter's breeze, causing the sea of students to part as he strode towards Ben, eyes gleaming with a harsh intensity that promised trouble.
"Hey, nerd," Jake sneered, swatting the manga from Ben's hands, sending it flying across the hallway. The bright panels of Lunar Phantom lay scattered on the floor, a stark contrast against the dull linoleum. The hallway fell silent, eyes darting from Ben to Jake and back, anticipation hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.
"Whoops” laughed Jake. “Looks like you dropped your comic book!” Jake smirked at him like it was the funniest thing ever.
Ben reached down to pick up the scattered pages, hands shaking, but Jake's boot descended onto the colorful paper, grinding it under his heel. The snickers of Jake's friends echo’d around them.
“Oi, Jake” a male voice said, gesturing.
Around the corner came a beautiful girl wearing a cheerleader's uniform, and Jake quickly abandoned his mockery. He straightened up, pushing Ben to the side, and strode towards Emma. Left alone in the wake of the bully's departure, Ben clenched his jaw, simmering in a mix of embarrassment and resentment.
Emma was laughing, her blonde hair bouncing as she gestured animatedly at something one of her friends said. A group had gathered around her, attracted by the radiant cheerleader who had a kind word for everyone.
"Hey, Emma," Jake called out, causing Emma to turn towards him. Her blue eyes widened in surprise before being replaced by a warm smile.
"Hey, Jake," she replied, her voice melodic. She adjusted the red and white pompoms in her hand as she greeted him. They must have just come from practice.
The sight of Jake and Emma laughing together caused a sour taste to rise in Ben's mouth. He watched as Jake threw his arm casually over Emma's shoulder, making her giggle. Every smile she flashed at Jake was a jab at Ben's pride.
"Hey, so I was thinking," Jake began, his voice slipping into a softer tone as he leaned in closer to Emma. "Hell-o-saurus is coming out on Thursday. Thought maybe we could check it out together?"
Emma looked surprised for a moment, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Sure,," she replied, "I'd like that."
Ben clenched his fist. Of all the things… He watched as Jake gave Emma a triumphant grin and squeezed her shoulder lightly before he pushed off the lockers and ambled away, leaving a starstruck Emma behind.
Ben waited for a moment, the taste of his own defeat still bitter on his tongue. Finally, gathering his scattered manga and the remaining shreds of his pride, he approached Emma.
"What's so great about him?" Ben grumbled, giving voice to the annoyance he'd been nursing.
Emma jumped, startled. "Oh, Ben!" she said, her surprise quickly replaced by a soft smile. "I didn't see you there."
Ben scowled, his eyes following the figure of the retreating bully. "What do you even see in him?"
Emma shrugged, her smile fading slightly. "Ah, I don’t know. He's... nice, you know?" she replied, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "Confident, protective. He knows what he wants, you know? But isn’t pushy or desperate to get it."
"Yeah, nice," Ben muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm. “And not pushy…” he rubbed his shoulder where Ben had literally pushed him against the lockers. He stared at Emma, part of him wondering what it would be like to be her. How differently people treated them just because of their appearance. If he was her… well, he’d be able to dump Jake at least.
He smirked as he imagined Jake’s face, Emma’s body telling him exactly what Ben wanted.
“Anyway, it was nice to see you, Ben” Emma said as she turned back to her cheerleader friends. They quickly got to gossiping about the upcoming date, leaving Ben totally ignored and alone.
___________________________
Later that evening, Ben sat hunched over his laptop, the soft glow of the screen the only illumination. He’d been clicking around, bored and uninspired, when he came across a forum talking about body swapping. And talking about it way more seriously then he’d seen before. A role play group?
“NewYou is wild” read the opening post of a thread that caught Ben's attention. A few quick clicks later, he was deep into the thread, engrossed in the accounts shared by the anonymous users, all apparently claiming to have swapped bodies.
“Experienced NewYou for the first time last week with my gym buddy. It was hilarious and weird. Flexing muscles I didn't even know existed and tasting food for the first time without my nut allergy was something else. Having to bench press twice my original weight was cool.”
“Okay, so I swapped with my younger sis, thought it would be a piece of cake. Boy, it was weird. I lost about a foot of height, and everybody treated me real different. She was massively embarrassing in my body too. Bleh! On the upside, I aced a history test for her, so I think she owes me for that.”
“You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I swapped with my cat because my friend Stace dared me to on a sleepover. BAD IDEA! As soon as we swapped, the cat in my old body went kinda crazy. She swiped at me, and do you KNOW how weird it is to get hit by your own hand!?! Stace had to hold her down for us to swap back. 7/5 with rice LOL!”
Thread after thread, post after post, the users' casual discussions about swapping bodies sent Ben's heart racing. They described the shock of waking up in a new body, the strange feeling of looking into a mirror and seeing someone else's face, the sheer thrill of walking in someone else's shoes. Literally!
He had to get in on this.
It turned out downloading the app wasn’t too difficult. You needed to put your phone into developer mode and hook it up to a computer, but essentially you could just download the software from the website and run it. Both people needed to do it on separate phones though, and both needed to agree to swap. That was the tricky part - Ben didn’t know who might want to swap with him of all people.
Unless…
"Emma," Ben mumbled to himself, the idea no longer an impossibility. It was as if the universe was answering his prayers. His mind raced with potential scenarios, all the things he could do. He could finally show Emma the real Jake, he could experience what it was like to be popular, and who knew, maybe he'd enjoy cheerleading. She was always pretty open to trying new things… who knows, maybe she’d do it as a favor?
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out of his house. The evening air was cool against his face, and the usually short journey to Emma's house felt like it took ages. He stood in front of her white picket fence, swallowed his nervousness, and walked up to the front door.
He rapped on the door lightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Emma’s mom answered the door, and with a surprised smile, she let him in. Emma's house had always been a home away from home for Ben when they were younger. The familiar smells and sounds brought back a wave of nostalgia.
Ben found Emma in her room, sitting on her bed, her cheerleader uniform discarded in favor of comfy pajamas. Her room was filled with cheerleading trophies, pop posters, and make-up scattered across her dressing table.
“Oh! Hey, Ben!” Emma exclaimed, surprised but clearly pleased. “What are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Oh, what is it?" Emma asked, sitting up straight, her face filled with curiosity.
"Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Even if it was just for a day?"
She looked at him quizzically, her head tilted to one side. "Um, no, not really. I mean I’ve been curious about–” she stopped talking, “Why are you asking?"
Ben took out his phone, showing her the NewYou app he had just downloaded.
"Because," he said, his heart pounding in his chest, "I think we can."
Emma looked at the screen of Ben's phone, frowning slightly. "NewYou? Is this some sort of game?"
"No, it's not a game," Ben said, shaking his head. "It's an app. It lets two people swap bodies."
He held his breath, waiting for Emma's reaction. She stared at the screen for a moment longer before bursting into laughter. "That's ridiculous! There's no way such a thing is real. You can't seriously believe this, Ben."
Ben didn't waver, didn't retract his statement. He had expected her to be skeptical. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think it's worth a try. Think about it, Emma. What if you could see the world from a different perspective? Wouldn't you like to experience what it's like to be someone else?"
Emma stopped laughing, considering his words. She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
He nodded, keeping his gaze steady on hers. "I am."
A thoughtful silence filled the room as Emma took in his words. Ben could see the gears turning in her head. He knew her well enough to know that she was considering it. Emma was always up for a challenge, always ready to try new things. That was one of the things he admired about her.
Finally, she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Okay, let's say I believe you. And let's say I'm willing to give this a shot. Why would you want to swap bodies with me?"
Ben considered his words carefully. "To see the world differently. You’re popular, you’re cool, people look up to you, and you’re, you know…” he gestured at her.
She giggled. “Hot?”
“I was going to say ‘a girl’, but yeah, that too.”
She punched him on the arm. “Alright Cinderella! You better not ruin this view when I get back to it!” She looked down at herself, stretching her arms out.
Ben exhaled, relief washing over him. He grinned at Emma, excitement buzzing in his veins.
Emma downloaded the app on her phone, following Ben's instructions, then they both opened it and Ben initiated the request to swap. Emma accepted it with a quick tap on her screen.
Their screens flickered for a moment.
“I don’t think anything happened.” said Emma, unsurprised. “God you almost had me going there!”
“No, no, wait” said Ben. “I can feel something.”
His hands and feet had begun tingling, and his stomach felt like it was dropping. Down. Away.
Ben blinked and found himself sitting on the other side of the room.
His phone buzzed. “Swap successful. Enjoy your NewYou!"
Ben gasped and looked down at his hands. Delicate fingers, manicured nails instead of his usual large and bony hands.
"Oh my god," Ben whispered, looking up at Emma. His voice was higher, softer. Emma's voice. His heart raced as he reached up to touch his - no, her - face, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers.
He looked at Emma, who seemed to be going through a similar realization. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she looked down at her - his - hands.
"Ben," she said, her voice lower, rougher. Ben's voice. "I think it worked."
Ben could only nod, his mind racing with the possibilities. They had done it. They had swapped bodies! And… easily! How was this not in every media outlet? How was this not all over the internet?!
Still clutching the phone in his dainty hands, Ben stood up, surprised by the effort it took. He looked down. The ground seemed closer than normal, as if he wasn’t standing up at all. He gingerly touched the soft fabric of the sweater he was wearing, and the gentle curve of the waist beneath it. He felt light, free, different. He very deliberately didn’t touch the breasts that were now hanging on his chest, not when their former owner was standing just a few feet away, though he felt them jiggle as he moved.
Emma, standing awkwardly in Ben’s body, snorted. “This is so weird,” she grumbled, adjusting the baggy jeans. She tried to cross her arms, a habit of hers, but found the movement unfamiliar and slightly awkward.
Then, she turned to look at her own body, now occupied by Ben. She raised a hand and brushed her own hair out of her former eyes.
Seeing her own face from an outsider's perspective was strange, almost surreal. She frowned as she gently tracing the contours of the face she knew so well, yet was now so alien. The long lashes, the soft lips, the small mole on the left cheek - everything was the same and yet, so very different.
"Wow," she breathed out, her voice deep and rough. "I didn't realize... I mean, you're… I'm… pretty."
Ben blushed, a pink hue appearing on his - no, her - fair cheeks. It was a strange sensation. His skin tingling, heart pounding in a chest that was no longer his.
“Yeah, you… I mean, I…” Ben stammered, flustered and unsure how to respond to that. “This is a lot to take in.”
There was a pause as the reality of their situation sunk in. They had swapped bodies, an impossible event made reality by an obscure app and a moment of daring curiosity.
"Let's just... take it slow, okay?" Emma finally broke the silence. She gestured to a mirror on the wall. "Maybe we should start with getting used to our new appearances."
And so they did. They stood in front of the mirror, marveling at the reflection that looked back at them. There was Ben, there was Emma. But the reflection of Ben wasn’t where it should be – it was two feet to the left of where it should be! Weird.
Just as they were starting to make peace with their reflections, a knock echoed through the room, followed by a muffled voice. "Emma, honey, dinner's ready."
Emma's - or rather, Ben's - eyes widened. He quickly turned to look at Emma, panic flickering in his gaze. She seemed calmer. “Well, you wanted to experience being me!”
"I know," he said, trying to steady his racing heart. "I have to go. I can do this. I can pretend to be you for one evening."
Emma was silent for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. "Just... be careful, okay?" she finally said, her tone serious. "And text me if anything happens."
Ben nodded, giving her a small, assuring smile. Then, with a last look at the mirror, he left the room, his new ponytail bouncing with each step he took.
Dinner was a rollercoaster of emotions for Ben. Emma's parents were lovely people, he found, even if her younger brother was quite the pest. He did his best to act like Emma, mimicking her speech patterns and mannerisms. He laughed at her father's puns and helped her mother serve the salad. It was going well until dessert.
As he was reaching for a piece of pie, his sleeve snagged the bowl of cream, sending it splattering all over himself and the tablecloth. A gasp ran through the room, and Ben felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh, Emma!" her mother exclaimed, rushing to wipe the mess with a napkin. "That's not like you at all."
Ben blushed and apologized.
“I guess you better go have a shower and clean up. Don’t worry about it down here.”
Oh.
Oh no.
_______________________
Meanwhile, back at Ben's place, Emma was trying to navigate Ben's life. His parents were nice enough, though they asked a lot of questions about school and her - Ben's - future. She smiled and nodded, providing vague answers when she could. She even played a round of video games with Ben's 13 year old sister. It was a novelty for Emma, who had never been much of a gamer. But, it was nice, she thought. Different, but nice.
They were loading a new level when her phone buzzed. A message from ‘Emma’.
“Hey, so, um, I spilled some pie all over you.”
For some reason Ben had also sent a picture. It was an angled selfie, showed Emma’s body standing alone in her room, barefoot, clothes askew, and still covered in pie
“Should I- change and shower?”
Emma paused. Obviously? She wasn’t sure when he expected, if they were going to be each other for a few days. Was he never going to use the toilet too?
She texted back a “Yes, of course. Don’t wet my hair.” and got back to the game.
_____________________
As the first tendrils of sunlight began to stretch across the sky, Ben, in Emma's lithe frame, and Emma, housed within Ben's gangly body, stood side by side at the bus stop. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of dew-soaked grass.
They stood in silence, each immersed in the thoughts of their extraordinary circumstance.
"Your brother is quite the early bird, isn't he?" Ben finally broke the silence, his voice soft with Emma's familiar lilt. He was fiddling with a thread on Emma's pink scarf, not meeting her gaze. “He woke me up by diving on top of me at six in the morning.”
Emma giggled, the sound strange in the deeper resonance of Ben's voice. "Yeah, he'll do that. Any trouble after the pie incident?"
Ben blushed. “I swear I didn’t look at anything I shouldn’t have!”
Emma giggled again. “Well you better have cleaned everything you should have! I certainly enjoyed not having to sit down to pee this morning.”
“You mean you’ve seen-”
“What did you expect, you dolt! I’m inside your body!” Emma spread her arms wide, as if showing him who she was.
“It gets bigger…” Ben muttered
“Oh, I know”
“Wait- what–”
Their casual conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their school bus. The familiar yellow behemoth lumbered into view, its tires crunching on the gravel. They climbed aboard, momentarily parting ways to their respective seats.
No sooner had they settled down than a chorus of high-pitched squeals rang through the bus. A gaggle of Emma's friends, a vibrant assortment of high school girls, were waving energetically at Ben.
"Emma! Get over here!" they called out voices bubbling with enthusiasm.
Ben shot Emma a puzzled look, to which she responded with a smirk. "Go on. It will be good for you."
With a sigh that was equal parts resignation and nervous excitement, Ben rose and joined Emma's friends. Their conversation was a whirlwind of girlish chatter, an onslaught of cheerleading stories, crush confessions, and fashion advice. Soon, one of the girls produced a top from a bags, a beautiful, silky number that made Ben's new heart flutter.
"This would look SO good on you, Emma!" one of them gushed, holding the top up against Ben's body. "The color would really bring out your eyes!"
Feeling a warm blush creep up his cheeks, Ben nodded and thanked them, feeling an odd pang of guilt for the deceit. He was not Emma, and yet, he was playing her part, basking in her social glow. A small part of him felt like a fraud. Plus the shirt was… rather revealing. It would show off his cleavage and belly button at once. He tried to turn his head to see what Emma thought, but he couldn’t get a good look.
“I wanted to give it to you for your date with Jake” the girl continued, unabated. “He’s got a thing for midriffs, Jess told me that when she was dating him, he…”
From the back of the bus, Emma was watching the entire spectacle unfold. An unfamiliar twinge of jealousy gnawed at her as she saw Ben - or rather, her body - being swept away into the mirthful chatter of her friends. She was left there, alone, in Ben's body, a spectator in her own life.
But amidst that feeling, there was also a sense of intrigue. Observing Ben navigate the complexities of her social life was enlightening, to say the least. He wasn’t being especially suave, but her friends seemed so understanding and patient with him- her- she should really appreciate them more. An off day? Nobody was batting an eye.
As the bus pulled up at the school, Ben was swept away with Emma’s friends, while Emma followed slowly behind, left alone by everyone. Ben was just beginning to get comfortable with their cheerful chatter when a friend, Amanda, suddenly leaned in and squinted at Ben's face.
"Oh my god, Emma!" Amanda gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. "What happened to your makeup? It looks like a two-year-old attacked your face with crayons."
The group of girls burst into laughter, their high-pitched giggles echoing around the bus. Ben felt heat rushing to his cheeks. He’d tried his hand at a bit of powder that morning, but he didn’t think it was that bad. He looked at Emma, who gave him an empathetic shrug. The world of makeup was a mystery to Ben, a chapter in the book of femininity he had never even flipped through.
"Well, we can't let you go around looking like that," Amanda declared, standing up. She took Ben's hand and started pulling him towards the bathroom. "We need to fix this, now."
As Amanda began to work on Ben's face, he watched his reflection in the mirror. It was surreal, seeing Amanda's hands move across his face, feeling the soft brush against his skin, but not recognizing the face that stared back at him. It was a face he was familiar with - Emma's face - but it was also a stranger's.
"Trust me, you'll look so much better after this," Amanda chatted away, her voice a comforting hum in the background. Ben listened to her and the other girls as they talked about the latest school gossip, their plans for the weekend, the new teacher everyone was crushing on.
The chatter was mundane, the kind of stuff Ben usually tuned out, but in this setting, it felt oddly intimate. He felt like he was getting a peek into a secret world, a glimpse into the life Emma led when he wasn't around.
Eventually, Amanda stepped back, her work done. Ben looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were subtly lined, his cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, his lips a soft pink. He looked like Emma. And, strangely enough, he felt like Emma too.
"There," Amanda said, beaming at him. "Much better."
Ben blinked at his reflection, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. But for now, he was just Emma, living her life, one makeup touch-up at a time.
_______________________
Emma, inside Ben's body, could not escape the sensation of strangeness that filled her every step. Even the simple act of walking was different, the additional height and strength both a wonder and a challenge. She found herself bumping into things more often, her perception of her body's dimensions no longer accurate.
The bell for gym class rang just as she was getting a hang of her new stride. She watched as Ben was dragged off into the women’s change room by her classmates, and she sighed and headed into the boys. It was loud and smelly, but she was able to change undisturbed, her new bony fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar fabric of Ben's gym kit.
Basketball was the chosen game of the day, a game Emma had always played, but never particularly excelled at. She was too short to really have much of a chance. But as she stepped onto the court in Ben's body, she felt a surge of energy she had never experienced before. Her fingers closed around the leather ball with a certainty that surprised her. She could even hold the ball in one hand!
The first few minutes of the game were a chaos of movement. Emma watched her classmates as they moved across the court, noting their strategies, the ways they used their bodies to block or pass. Her own body responded in ways she wasn't expecting. It was taller, faster, stronger. Who knew that Ben’s body contained such power?
To her amazement, she found herself actually enjoying the game. She could shoot, pass and defend with ease. Her body moved with a fluidity she had never known, each move instinctive, as though she had been playing this way for years. The ball seemed to follow her command, the hoop an easy target.
As the game continued, Emma became more and more confident. She dodged her opponents, her new height providing her with an advantage she had never had before. She was making shots that she would have only dreamed of making in her own body.
She looked at the scoreboard. Her team was in the lead, and she had been a significant contributor. Her eyes met Ben's - or rather her own - standing on the sidelines, and she saw a look of surprise. Emma smiled, a small sense of pride washing over her.
When the final whistle blew, her team had won, and she found herself surrounded by her cheering classmates, guys slapping on the back, rustling her hair, making her feel proud! They would never do that to her in her own body! It was like all of the distance that she usually felt between herself and guys had disappeared, there was no awkwardness in the touching, no creepiness in the looks. They just slapped her on the back and cheered.
Emma realized then, under the bright lights of the gym, that she was living a day in Ben's shoes that she would never have experienced in her own body. For the first time, she felt a strange sense of gratitude towards the body swap. It wasn't all bad, after all.
__________________
Meanwhile, Ben had been navigating through the labyrinth of Emma's school day, filled with its own unique challenges. There was an increased attention to detail, an amplified sensitivity to social cues, an intricate dance of interactions that he was not familiar with.
When it was time for gym class, something that Ben had always dreaded, he found himself lucky enough to be on the sidelines, designated as one of the scorekeepers.
As the game started, his attention was drawn to his own body on the basketball court. Emma actually seemed to be enjoying herself! And not just enjoying herself, she was good! He watched in awe as she swiped the ball from an opposing player with a quickness he didn’t know his body was capable of, and then sprinted down the court before passing the ball hard and fast to a teammate who scored.
She was good, better than good. In his body, Emma was making shots that neither of them could have done in their own forms. What gives! She was moving with a confidence, a certain ease that was strangely mesmerizing.
He found himself clapping along with the others, cheering each time she scored a point. It was surreal, watching his own body perform so well under someone else's control. At the same time, he felt a kind of jealousy. How come he couldn’t play like that? A team mate whooped as Emma scored again, and high fived his old body as they ran up the court together. Ben didn’t even know that guy’s name. Why couldn’t he be popular like that?
As the final whistle blew, he watched as Emma's team celebrated their victory, watched as his own body was surrounded by cheering classmates, hugged and slapped and lifted up in the air. Ben clapped quietly, feeling strange, but when Emma jogged passed, she beamed at him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
He followed Emma’s friends back into the girls’ change room, and couldn’t help but chuckle as they chatted about “Ben's” newfound skills. One of them even wondered if he was single!
What the hell was going on?
______________________________________
The lunchroom was buzzing with activity as Ben took a seat at Emma's usual spot, surrounded by her friends. He got a salad. That’s the kind of thing Emma usually ate, right?
He found himself laughing and giggling with the other girls. Something inside him had relaxed a bit and he was having fun exaggerating his body’s exploits with them.
“Oh yeah” Ben said, “And his arms are super muscular!”
One of the girls laughed. “Oh shove off it, Emma! Now you’re just being silly!”
“But speaking of big arms…” another girl said with a grin.
Ben looked up, expecting to see Emma in his body. Instead, he was confronted by Jake, a smug, condescending grin on his face.
"Hey Emma," Jake greeted, seeming to dazzle everyone else at the table. "Looking gorgeous today, as usual."
Ben blushed. This was so weird.
“Uh…”
“So, I was thinking after our date on Thursday we could head up to the river. My Dad said I could borrow his BMW for the night. What do you reckon?”
Ewwwww god no! Ben was in no place to be thinking about that. He’d only been a girl for 12 hours or so!
“Uh, no, no thank you.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Ben looked down at himself. His lithe body, bare legs, perfect skin. Fuck Jake, he didn’t need to justify himself. The whole point of becoming Emma was so that he could feel what it was like to be socially powerful, daring, bold! And… he could do whatever he wanted!
“Because.. you’re a brainless moron.” he said, a slight smirk coming onto his face. Emma’s face! He was doing it! Emma was dumping Jake!
Jake’s mouth opened slightly, and he frowned, more confused than upset.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re a bully. You’re mean. You’re an ugly, flat footed, stupid, neanderthal, um… dumb… just awful person!”
“What? But I thought-”
“And everybody hates you.” he added, just for good measure.
Jake clenched his jaw.
“So fuck off, actually, yeah fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of. I never want to see you again!”
Ben smirked. That felt good.
Jake's face paled, shock evident in his blue eyes. There was an agonizingly long pause as the words hung in the air, the cafeteria around them a blur of stares and whispers.
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Ben at the center of attention at the table, the girls still wide-eyed and silent.
Ben’s smug grin faded as he looked around the table, seeing the shock on the faces of Emma's friends. Surely it wasn’t that bad? Jake was an awful human. Emma would get over it. Besides, it was in her best interests not to end up with somebody like that.
These thoughts did little to help stop the sinking feeling in Ben’s stomach as he saw Emma gaping at him from across the room. She started to storm over to him, then stopped, seeming to change her mind, and scampered out of the room after Jake, tears in her eyes.
Ah.
Yes.
That was kind of mean. Just not to Jake.
To Be Continued.
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The opening couple of scenes for a slice-of-life stealth control story featuring a group of college friends. In this opening, Luna & Alphonse experiment with the technology with each other for the first time, and Luna is quite a bit bolder with it that Alphonse. It is largely ftm, from the male third person perspective.
The chilly air of Alphonse's dorm room was cut by the soft humming of a high end laptop, built more for specs than style. Alphonse himself sat hunched over, squinting at the glow of the screen in the darkness. The page he had stumbled upon was unlike anything he’d seen before, its dark background and neon lines carrying an aura of the illicit.
Or at least, an aura of a programmer who used dark mode, which was always a good sign.
It was late - late enough that his roommate Quincy was out on the town, courting danger or a damsel (or both). Alphonse sighed, running a hand through his mousy brown hair as he considered the proposition before him: a chance to buy into the surreal, the impossible.
Stealth Control Nanobots™
They were the stuff of whispered rumours and online conspiracy theories. The government had banned the technology long ago, citing concerns over privacy, consent, and potential for abuse. Concerns that were well founded. Even though the tech had never reached the mainstream, and was tightly controlled for government use only, there were still regular stories of leaks. It seemed like every few months some starlet would seem to lose her mind, and go masturbate in public, or dance nude on a balcony.
Stealth control was always blamed, and tighter controls always followed. Alphonse wondered how many of these cases were real – and how many times a drugged up rock star would just blame their latest bender on stealth control. “It wasn’t me! It was just my body!”
Still, if they were real… well, basic logic would dictate for every case you heard about, there were probably hundreds of people being controlled in ways that weren’t overt enough to make the news.
And if that were true, then maybe you could just buy a vial of the stuff from a random Russian IP address.
Alphonse knew he was talking himself into it.
His mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button, his heart pounding. He looked at the reviews again: users swearing up and down that the tech was real, functional, and life-altering. A few death threats to the seller. Someone asking how to exit vim. It seemed legitimate enough…
A mental image of Luna filled his mind, her dark goth aesthetic barely containing her wild exuberance. What would it be like to be her? His pulse quickened at the thought of experiencing her world, of seeing the universe through her eyes. It was such an intimate thought that he felt a pang of guilt immediately. Yet, there was a small part of him that yearned for that intimacy, a desire fueled by a confusing amalgam of curiosity, love, and the heady promise of forbidden… …science.
Maybe, if he controlled her, he could plant the idea in her mind that they should date… “incept” it, if you will. Alphonse rolled his eyes.
His sister Christina's warnings echoed in his mind. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should." She would definitely disapprove of his current predicament.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a notification beeped. A text from Quincy: "Bro, where you at? Rosa and Luna asking for you at the Fox's Den." His heartbeat quickened again. Luna was asking for him?
The weight of the decision weighed heavy on his heart. He was no womaniser like Quincy, no social butterfly like Rosa. He was Alphonse, the bassist in the band, the nerd in the corner, the one who was always observing, dreaming… not doing. This technology, dangerous and alluring as it was, could be his chance to connect, to understand, to be a part of something bigger.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hands trembling as he clicked 'Buy Now'. The screen confirmed his purchase, and the weight seemed to lift a little, replaced with a heady blend of exhilaration and anxiety.
He hastily shut his laptop, grabbed his bass, and left the dorm room. Tonight, he was going to enjoy his regular life. Tomorrow, he thought, with a mix of excitement and fear, everything could change. He could change. He only hoped that the price wouldn't be too high.
________________________________
A week later Alphonse and Luna sat in that same dorm room, staring at a non-descript metal box. It had arrived that morning.
Alphonse, tall and gangly, was hunched over it. His fingers tapped on the plain surface, a thumb running over the embossed logo of a butterfly - a suitable symbol for a box of Stealth Control Nanobots™, he thought.
Luna, wearing her habitual black skinny jeans and band tee, watched Alphonse with a barely contained excitement in her emerald eyes. It was a look that Alphonse knew too well, and it always made his heart stumble and his palms dampen. How was it possible that she would even want to hang out with him, when she was so damn cool, and he… well, he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wondered if she noticed his pulse thundering in his throat, betraying his nervousness.
"Alphonse, stop stalling," she teased, playfully punching his arm. He winced, more from the contact than any supposed pain, but he allowed a hesitant smile. "I want to see what they look like!"
He opened up the box with a click. Inside lay rows of vials, each containing a small amount of silvery liquid. They were tiny, barely a few millilitres, and yet they held the power to wrestle control from the mind of one and place it into the hands of another.
“Huh, smaller than I thought”, said Luna. She picked one up, and he winced at the sacrilege. “Ready to give it a go?”
A ripple of unease traversed Alphonse's spine as he carefully picked up one of his own. He looked down at Luna and found himself wondering what it would be like to be her. Her dainty hands fiddled with the vial impatiently, the pale skin and black painted nails looking ghostly against the silvery vial. Was he really about to have a turn controlling those hands?
He looked down at himself. Large. Kinda gangly. Not unfit, just, like his limbs didn’t quite sit right. Would she even want a turn controlling him? Would he let her? Immeasurably powerful tiny little robots were about to float across his blood brain barrier, attach themselves to his neurons, and force them to fire in a pattern that matched the one in Luna’s brain – at least, as far as sensation and movement were concerned.
He shivered. Then he thought of Luna – lively, unpredictable Luna – wielding that power over him and shivered again, and not just from fear. He could feel a stirring beginning in his pants. That might be an awkward one to explain if Luna took a turn using it on him.
"Are you sure about this?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
Luna responded with an impish grin. "You’re not backing out on me, are you! Al, when on earth will we get another chance like this! I want to know what it’s like!"
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous sort of thrill.
"I-I'm- no! Let’s do it!" Alphonse managed, voice steady despite the tumultuous storm of anxiety brewing within him.
Luna raised her vial in the air as if making a toast, then swallowed it in one go. Alphonse hesitated and then drank his as well.
She looked down at herself. “Okay, I don’t feel any different. What now?”
Alphonse swallowed, finding his voice again. "It said that the nanobots in the liquid will make their way to our brains and establish a sort of connection with our neurons." He explained, hands slightly shaking as he held up his own, now empty, vial.
"Once that's done, a small light will flash in our vision, and we'll be able to navigate a basic user interface in our minds. It's like... you know, when you're dreaming, and you're aware that you're dreaming? It's a bit like that. It doesn't intrude on your day-to-day life; it's just there, waiting to be accessed."
Luna's eyebrows furrowed as she took in his explanation, a tinge of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. "And then what?"
"There's an option in the UI," Alphonse continued, gesturing vaguely with his hands, "that lets us select whether to make ourselves 'open' to being controlled by anybody else who's swallowed the nanobots. It's like setting your phone to hotspot. Anyone can connect, provided they have the same kind of nanobots, and are nearby"
“Wait, anyone?” Luna stared at him, silent for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. “I really should have waited before chugging that. Remind me not to leave that setting on! Don’t want me to be taken over by some old perv! Ha!”
Alphonse blushed and nodded.
“Oh, wait, wait! Something’s changed! I saw the flash!”
As she spoke, Alphonse himself saw a brief flash of yellow light pulse in the exact centre of his vision and then fade away. His brain felt different somehow, like there was something else in there with him…
“Okay! I’m trying the UI!” said Luna excitedly.
Alphonse watched as Luna closed her eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her. She was so beautiful! Fierce, fearless… cute. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lips forming a small 'o' as if she was exercising a muscle that she had never used before.
A moment later, her eyes sprang open. "I did it!" she announced, grinning wide enough to light up the room. "I set it to 'open', Al!"
She threw her arms wide. “I’m open!”
Alphonse nearly choked on his saliva. Did she know what she was doing to him? How turned on he was? His dick throbbed in his pants, and he tried to adjust as subtly as he could. “Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep.” he thought to himself. “Don’t do it!”
"A-alright," he stuttered, his fingers nervously entwining together in his lap. He concentrated on his own UI, bringing forth that odd feeling that was layered behind his thoughts. It was a surreal feeling, like reaching out for a dream and finding it solid under your touch.
Navigating the interface was strange, like trying to control an extra limb that he'd never noticed before. He squinted, a line of concentration forming between his brows as he looked for Luna in his mind's eye. And there she was, a clear node of light, pulsating softly, inviting him in. Open. Ready for him.
"Are you sure about this, Luna?" he asked, his voice a threadbare whisper.
"Absolutely!" she replied, the excitement in her voice doing little to calm his racing heart. "Now, come on! Try controlling me!"
Alphonse took a deep breath, readying himself for the plunge, then reached out to that pulsing light. The world shifted, tilted, and for a moment he was standing on the edge of an abyss, a strange sense of anticipation and terror swirling within him.
And then, he fell.
Into her.
___________________________________
The sensation of falling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a jolting sense of weightlessness – it was like he was passing through something, a layer, a boundary that held his own self distinct from Luna's. Like rising up from deep underwater, feeling the changing sensations as the water changed temperature and the light got brighter… and then he landed!
Alphonse jolted and gasped. He was here! He was inside Luna! His mind stuttered at the realisation, his thoughts becoming a chaotic whirlpool. The interface was still there, a pressure at the edge of his perception, giving him a semblance of stability.
He heard a soft thud as his own body slumped to the floor across from him. What the hell…
His floating mind seemed to settle a little bit, the sensations becoming less fuzzy, more distinct. He looked down, Luna's hands were smaller, softer than his. Her nails, painted a deep black, looked stark against the pale complexion of her skin. He clenched and unclenched the delicate fingers, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the fragility of her slender bones beneath.
He looked around the room. The world seemed sharper, clearer, as if he was seeing through a camera lens. He knew Luna wore glasses for reading, but her natural eyesight seemed to be so much better than his. Colours were brighter, shapes more distinct.
The strangest feeling, however, was the raw sensation of being in a female body. It was an uncanny mix of familiarity and strangeness. The contours of her body were alien to him, the slight swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. It was like he had been handed a new instrument and was expected to play without any practice.
He glanced down for a second, and caught a glimpse of his new breasts inside his shirt, held by a plain black bra. He jolted his head back up as if burned.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep!
Instead, Alphonse slowly and deliberately lifted his -- Luna's -- hand to his face. Smooth, soft. His fingers traced over the foreign features, feeling the curve of her cheekbones, the button-like softness of her nose, the plumpness of her lips. Her nose felt particularly different. It was smaller and flatter than his own, and, strangely, easier to breathe through.
His heart was beating like a war drum in his tiny chest as he slowly lowered his hand again, careful not to touch anything inappropriate. That thought brought his mind to the body below him, hidden beneath his clothes. He had tits on his chest. Luna’s tits. A warmth spread through his nether region, and a very strange sensation of a wetness appearing in his underwear. A wetness… He had a vagina! He, Alphonse, could feel Luna’s vagina. Involuntarily, he felt it pulse at the thought, a wave of foreign pleasure spreading up through him.
Oh god, oh god. Could she tell? Surely she could tell. She was supposed to be aware of everything. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d blown it!
His breathing increased, his heart pounded. He felt his new face flush, and his fingers began to lightly tingle. He needed to get out! Out out out! Something instinctual kicked in within him and he found himself reaching out with that mental limb, that construct of a UI, and somehow managed to force himself out of the body. He felt like he was swimming upward, through currents and waves pushing him back down, upward and upward towards the light, his body going numb, his senses a dull ringing!
With a jolt, Alphonse found himself laying on his back.
The sudden sensation of returning to his own body was a shock in and of itself, like being thrust into ice-cold water. His senses scrambled to readjust, vertigo swooping through him like a bird of prey. The ceiling spun above him, a hazy whirl of colours before it gradually settled into the familiar sight.
He blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. His hands, rougher and larger, lay on his stomach. He was back in his body.
Sitting up, Alphonse drew in a shuddering breath. From across the room, Luna began to laugh, a sound as clear and bright as the sun. "Holy shit, Alphonse! Did you really control me?"
Her eyes were shining with excitement as she sat up. Her fingers brushed back the hair from her face, her movements noticeably more fluid and familiar than when Alphonse was in charge.
“Um”, said Alphonse, “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Al! This is amazing!” she looked down at herself, then she grabbed her boobs through her shirt and jiggled them up and down. “It’s so weird. I felt like I really wanted to do this a few moments ago, but couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Being controlled by this thing is wild!”
“Oh… um…” Alphonse stammered. “I- uh- I didn’t do anything! I was decent!”
“Yeah, yeah I know!” said Luna with a laugh. “I was getting so horny though. It must have been really strange for you to feel me getting horny while you were in control. Sorry about that!”
“Um, yeah, it was odd.” Alphonse said, blushing.
“Wait! You were in control! I didn’t get horny! You did!” Luna cackled like a madman. “Oh my god that’s so much worse. You made me horny!”
Alphonse buried his head in his hands, but he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he always assumed Luna would act way more… normal… then she did.
Luna bounced on the spot, her face ablaze with excitement, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she examined her own hands. "You know what's crazy? I was fully aware. I knew what I was doing, how I was moving… I felt like I was doing everything myself!" She tilted her head back, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling in wonderment. "But like, I knew that I wasn’t? I saw you fall back, I knew I was acting unnatural, but it was just… it felt so normal!! Al, this stuff is incredible. If I didn’t know I was going to be controlled, there is no way I’d be able to tell."
Alphonse watched her, his own thoughts a jumble of emotions. Awe, curiosity, apprehension, guilt...
"Did you... um, did you feel uncomfortable?" he asked tentatively, his gaze dropping to his own lap.
Luna let out a bark of laughter. "Uncomfortable? No! It was insane! Good insane! Sort of like... you know when you're in a dream, and you're just kind of going along with it because dream logic?"
Alphonse nodded, an uneasy chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense..."
“You made me feel so awkward!” Luna chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “When I was trying not to look at my boobs, I felt like a naughty school girl caught kissing in the locker room. If you wanted to see them that bad, you could have just asked.” she winked at him, and Alphonse felt himself turning a deep red and his previously subsiding erection shot back up. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Anyway! My turn now!”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes! I want a turn! It’s only fair - you got to be me.”
Alphonse cringed. One part of him desperately wanted Luna to experience being him, and he was scared and turned on at the idea of being controlled by his crush. Another part of him was aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and the fact that Luna would know.
“Hurry up! I can’t see you yet!” Luna called out, her eyes squeezed shut as she navigated the ghostly UI.
Fuck it.
Alphonse reached out with that strange new part of his mind, and found the right settling. A strange sensation went through his body as he flipped it from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. There he was. Totally exposed.
“Okay, I’m-”
He stopped talking and looked down at himself. What would it feel like to be controlled? Nearby, Luna’s body slumped to the ground.
“Wow, you were really excited!” he said to himself as he reached down to adjust his erection. It seemed to grow three times harder as he tried to adjust it, not quite getting the usual knack right.
“Do you mind?” he said, and began undoing his belt.
Some part of him cringed for a moment. He really shouldn’t undress with Luna right there. She literally just needed to turn her head a little, and she’d see him exposing himself right in front of her!
Wait a minute…
Alphonse tried to say something to Luna, to ask if she had remote accessed his nanobots, but some part of him decided against it. Best not to disturb her.
Best… not to disturb her? What the hell?
He was being controlled, wasn’t he?
It didn’t feel like it. He stared down at his hands as they worked his belt and buttons. It felt like he was just taking off his pants. But… Luna was passed out, he’d set his nanobots to receive the connection, and they had literally just agreed to have her control him.
Even knowing all of that, Alphonse didn’t believe it in his bones.
“Wow, these things really are powerful”, he thought.
He finally got the buckle undone and ripped his pants down, his erect dick catching a bit as he yanked them roughly. He stared at it. Average size, average width. Hard as a nail. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
Hey wait, if he was being controlled by Luna right now, did that mean she was feeling turned on too?
He reached down to feel it in his hands, gently running his fingers along the length of his shaft, and lightly squeezing the end. It felt amazing.
Not just feeling turned on too, she was turning him on. If Alphonse was being controlled, then this wasn’t really his erection! It was hers!
He wanted to chuckle at that thought, but decided not to.
He reached a little lower and cupped his balls, lightly lifting them with his hand and feeling how they responded. He gave them a little slap and felt them jiggle.
“Hah, that’s not so bad.” he said “I knew guys were exaggerating.”
He flicked one a little harder and- Argh!
A heavy throbbing pain washed over him. The taste of bile appeared in his throat. He doubled over and gasped.
“Ugh. Okay. Okay. Bad idea.”
Still, he was hard. The pain gradually subsided as he played more with his erect dick. He wanted so badly to quickly rub one out, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to get into bed or the bathroom to do it the way he usually would.
Instead, Alphonse reached up to his chest and cupped his pecks through his t-shirt.
“Heh, these certainly beat boobs”, he said. He tapped one, and tried to make them dance by flexing them, but couldn’t quite manage it properly. Then he grabbed his shirt, dug his fingers in hard, and with as much force as he could muster, tore it open right down the middle.
“I always wanted to do that!” he laughed. “I guess I owe you a shirt now.”
Pretty soon his eyes fell upon Luna’s unconscious body, slumped on the ground. He effortlessly picked it up and dumped it on his bed, giggling as he watched her flop around.
“I’m so light! I never realised how easy that was for you!” he laughed again, pushing Luna’s empty head side to side. “I should be a lot less impressed, but you do have some serious muscles for such a serious geek.”
He flexed an arm and looked at it approvingly. Meanwhile, his dick still beckoned.
He found himself biting his lip.
“Now”, he said to himself, “I knoooow how you felt when you were me. And how I felt like I was doing everything. And I don’t want to freak you out. But, this is me in here. This is Luna speaking right now.”
Alphonse tried to force that thought to stay with him. It still didn’t feel like it.
“And that’s my body lying right there.” he continued, “So, I’m going to just go ahead, and, well…”
He looked down at his dick again, which had hardened right back up to full mast. Then, Alphonse found himself climbing on top of the bed… over Luna’s vacant face… and…
Oh, no, he couldn’t do that, could he?
He lined up his dick and gently pushed it into Luna’s mouth.
But it was Luna doing this, right? Luna was controlling him now?
He slowly pushed it inside, passed the teeth, and deep down her throat.
“Hah. No gag reflex!” he laughed.
If Luna was controlling him, did that mean she wanted to give him a blowjob? Or… did she want to get a blowjob?
He began thrusting slowly. It felt… very strange. He was extraordinarily horny, and the idea that Luna was making him do this was hot as fuck, but at the same time, the blowjob kind of sucked.
“I wish I could make my body suck properly!” said Alphonse, frustrated. He readjusted his position, and pushed in deeper. He could feel Luna’s body’s lips pressing right down near the base of his shaft.
Did Luna have a crush on him? Or did this fall under the category of masturbation?
He didn’t have long to think about it because soon, far sooner than he was ready, he felt a familiar barrier get crossed, and his load spurted out into Luna’s throat and over her face. The orgasm was a surprisingly disappointing one, all things considered.
“Gah!” he said. “That can’t be it!”
He kept thrusting, but his dick quickly became soft and uncomfortably sensitive against Luna’s teeth. He sighed.
“That was definitely an experience. Thanks Alphonse.”
He wanted to collapse down onto the bed and fall asleep, but instead he found himself climbing off of Luna. Without bothering to get dressed, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up her face a bit.
“Might as well do this before heading back!”
And with that, he lay down on the floor, still naked below the waist, and-
“What the hell…” muttered Alphonse. Nearby, Luna pushed herself up, gagging slightly.
“Ugh, that is not very comfortable on this end.” she coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“That was… did you really control me?” Alphonse asked.
“Na-dar. Looking good by the way.” she smirked.
Alphonse glanced down and then sat up with a start. Apparently he’d- she’d- forgotten to put his pants back on. He quickly covered himself up, blushing.
“That was the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life.” he said.
“Maybe third, for me” Luna laughed. “Hey, sorry for really jumping into it, I just… ah, I dunno, you felt the same things right?”
Alphonse nodded, blushing. “It felt like I was the one doing everything.”
“I know right!” Luna smiled down at him. “I think we need to bring the others in on this.”
“Really?”
“Ye-huh. Tomorrow night. I’ve got a game in mind.”
Luna picked up her bag.
“I really need a shower after all of that. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And with that, she left. Alphonse flopped back down and sighed. What he just unleashed?
The chilly air of Alphonse's dorm room was cut by the soft humming of a high end laptop, built more for specs than style. Alphonse himself sat hunched over, squinting at the glow of the screen in the darkness. The page he had stumbled upon was unlike anything he’d seen before, its dark background and neon lines carrying an aura of the illicit.
Or at least, an aura of a programmer who used dark mode, which was always a good sign.
It was late - late enough that his roommate Quincy was out on the town, courting danger or a damsel (or both). Alphonse sighed, running a hand through his mousy brown hair as he considered the proposition before him: a chance to buy into the surreal, the impossible.
Stealth Control Nanobots™
They were the stuff of whispered rumours and online conspiracy theories. The government had banned the technology long ago, citing concerns over privacy, consent, and potential for abuse. Concerns that were well founded. Even though the tech had never reached the mainstream, and was tightly controlled for government use only, there were still regular stories of leaks. It seemed like every few months some starlet would seem to lose her mind, and go masturbate in public, or dance nude on a balcony.
Stealth control was always blamed, and tighter controls always followed. Alphonse wondered how many of these cases were real – and how many times a drugged up rock star would just blame their latest bender on stealth control. “It wasn’t me! It was just my body!”
Still, if they were real… well, basic logic would dictate for every case you heard about, there were probably hundreds of people being controlled in ways that weren’t overt enough to make the news.
And if that were true, then maybe you could just buy a vial of the stuff from a random Russian IP address.
Alphonse knew he was talking himself into it.
His mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button, his heart pounding. He looked at the reviews again: users swearing up and down that the tech was real, functional, and life-altering. A few death threats to the seller. Someone asking how to exit vim. It seemed legitimate enough…
A mental image of Luna filled his mind, her dark goth aesthetic barely containing her wild exuberance. What would it be like to be her? His pulse quickened at the thought of experiencing her world, of seeing the universe through her eyes. It was such an intimate thought that he felt a pang of guilt immediately. Yet, there was a small part of him that yearned for that intimacy, a desire fueled by a confusing amalgam of curiosity, love, and the heady promise of forbidden… …science.
Maybe, if he controlled her, he could plant the idea in her mind that they should date… “incept” it, if you will. Alphonse rolled his eyes.
His sister Christina's warnings echoed in his mind. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should." She would definitely disapprove of his current predicament.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a notification beeped. A text from Quincy: "Bro, where you at? Rosa and Luna asking for you at the Fox's Den." His heartbeat quickened again. Luna was asking for him?
The weight of the decision weighed heavy on his heart. He was no womaniser like Quincy, no social butterfly like Rosa. He was Alphonse, the bassist in the band, the nerd in the corner, the one who was always observing, dreaming… not doing. This technology, dangerous and alluring as it was, could be his chance to connect, to understand, to be a part of something bigger.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hands trembling as he clicked 'Buy Now'. The screen confirmed his purchase, and the weight seemed to lift a little, replaced with a heady blend of exhilaration and anxiety.
He hastily shut his laptop, grabbed his bass, and left the dorm room. Tonight, he was going to enjoy his regular life. Tomorrow, he thought, with a mix of excitement and fear, everything could change. He could change. He only hoped that the price wouldn't be too high.
________________________________
A week later Alphonse and Luna sat in that same dorm room, staring at a non-descript metal box. It had arrived that morning.
Alphonse, tall and gangly, was hunched over it. His fingers tapped on the plain surface, a thumb running over the embossed logo of a butterfly - a suitable symbol for a box of Stealth Control Nanobots™, he thought.
Luna, wearing her habitual black skinny jeans and band tee, watched Alphonse with a barely contained excitement in her emerald eyes. It was a look that Alphonse knew too well, and it always made his heart stumble and his palms dampen. How was it possible that she would even want to hang out with him, when she was so damn cool, and he… well, he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wondered if she noticed his pulse thundering in his throat, betraying his nervousness.
"Alphonse, stop stalling," she teased, playfully punching his arm. He winced, more from the contact than any supposed pain, but he allowed a hesitant smile. "I want to see what they look like!"
He opened up the box with a click. Inside lay rows of vials, each containing a small amount of silvery liquid. They were tiny, barely a few millilitres, and yet they held the power to wrestle control from the mind of one and place it into the hands of another.
“Huh, smaller than I thought”, said Luna. She picked one up, and he winced at the sacrilege. “Ready to give it a go?”
A ripple of unease traversed Alphonse's spine as he carefully picked up one of his own. He looked down at Luna and found himself wondering what it would be like to be her. Her dainty hands fiddled with the vial impatiently, the pale skin and black painted nails looking ghostly against the silvery vial. Was he really about to have a turn controlling those hands?
He looked down at himself. Large. Kinda gangly. Not unfit, just, like his limbs didn’t quite sit right. Would she even want a turn controlling him? Would he let her? Immeasurably powerful tiny little robots were about to float across his blood brain barrier, attach themselves to his neurons, and force them to fire in a pattern that matched the one in Luna’s brain – at least, as far as sensation and movement were concerned.
He shivered. Then he thought of Luna – lively, unpredictable Luna – wielding that power over him and shivered again, and not just from fear. He could feel a stirring beginning in his pants. That might be an awkward one to explain if Luna took a turn using it on him.
"Are you sure about this?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
Luna responded with an impish grin. "You’re not backing out on me, are you! Al, when on earth will we get another chance like this! I want to know what it’s like!"
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous sort of thrill.
"I-I'm- no! Let’s do it!" Alphonse managed, voice steady despite the tumultuous storm of anxiety brewing within him.
Luna raised her vial in the air as if making a toast, then swallowed it in one go. Alphonse hesitated and then drank his as well.
She looked down at herself. “Okay, I don’t feel any different. What now?”
Alphonse swallowed, finding his voice again. "It said that the nanobots in the liquid will make their way to our brains and establish a sort of connection with our neurons." He explained, hands slightly shaking as he held up his own, now empty, vial.
"Once that's done, a small light will flash in our vision, and we'll be able to navigate a basic user interface in our minds. It's like... you know, when you're dreaming, and you're aware that you're dreaming? It's a bit like that. It doesn't intrude on your day-to-day life; it's just there, waiting to be accessed."
Luna's eyebrows furrowed as she took in his explanation, a tinge of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. "And then what?"
"There's an option in the UI," Alphonse continued, gesturing vaguely with his hands, "that lets us select whether to make ourselves 'open' to being controlled by anybody else who's swallowed the nanobots. It's like setting your phone to hotspot. Anyone can connect, provided they have the same kind of nanobots, and are nearby"
“Wait, anyone?” Luna stared at him, silent for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. “I really should have waited before chugging that. Remind me not to leave that setting on! Don’t want me to be taken over by some old perv! Ha!”
Alphonse blushed and nodded.
“Oh, wait, wait! Something’s changed! I saw the flash!”
As she spoke, Alphonse himself saw a brief flash of yellow light pulse in the exact centre of his vision and then fade away. His brain felt different somehow, like there was something else in there with him…
“Okay! I’m trying the UI!” said Luna excitedly.
Alphonse watched as Luna closed her eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her. She was so beautiful! Fierce, fearless… cute. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lips forming a small 'o' as if she was exercising a muscle that she had never used before.
A moment later, her eyes sprang open. "I did it!" she announced, grinning wide enough to light up the room. "I set it to 'open', Al!"
She threw her arms wide. “I’m open!”
Alphonse nearly choked on his saliva. Did she know what she was doing to him? How turned on he was? His dick throbbed in his pants, and he tried to adjust as subtly as he could. “Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep.” he thought to himself. “Don’t do it!”
"A-alright," he stuttered, his fingers nervously entwining together in his lap. He concentrated on his own UI, bringing forth that odd feeling that was layered behind his thoughts. It was a surreal feeling, like reaching out for a dream and finding it solid under your touch.
Navigating the interface was strange, like trying to control an extra limb that he'd never noticed before. He squinted, a line of concentration forming between his brows as he looked for Luna in his mind's eye. And there she was, a clear node of light, pulsating softly, inviting him in. Open. Ready for him.
"Are you sure about this, Luna?" he asked, his voice a threadbare whisper.
"Absolutely!" she replied, the excitement in her voice doing little to calm his racing heart. "Now, come on! Try controlling me!"
Alphonse took a deep breath, readying himself for the plunge, then reached out to that pulsing light. The world shifted, tilted, and for a moment he was standing on the edge of an abyss, a strange sense of anticipation and terror swirling within him.
And then, he fell.
Into her.
___________________________________
The sensation of falling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a jolting sense of weightlessness – it was like he was passing through something, a layer, a boundary that held his own self distinct from Luna's. Like rising up from deep underwater, feeling the changing sensations as the water changed temperature and the light got brighter… and then he landed!
Alphonse jolted and gasped. He was here! He was inside Luna! His mind stuttered at the realisation, his thoughts becoming a chaotic whirlpool. The interface was still there, a pressure at the edge of his perception, giving him a semblance of stability.
He heard a soft thud as his own body slumped to the floor across from him. What the hell…
His floating mind seemed to settle a little bit, the sensations becoming less fuzzy, more distinct. He looked down, Luna's hands were smaller, softer than his. Her nails, painted a deep black, looked stark against the pale complexion of her skin. He clenched and unclenched the delicate fingers, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the fragility of her slender bones beneath.
He looked around the room. The world seemed sharper, clearer, as if he was seeing through a camera lens. He knew Luna wore glasses for reading, but her natural eyesight seemed to be so much better than his. Colours were brighter, shapes more distinct.
The strangest feeling, however, was the raw sensation of being in a female body. It was an uncanny mix of familiarity and strangeness. The contours of her body were alien to him, the slight swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. It was like he had been handed a new instrument and was expected to play without any practice.
He glanced down for a second, and caught a glimpse of his new breasts inside his shirt, held by a plain black bra. He jolted his head back up as if burned.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep!
Instead, Alphonse slowly and deliberately lifted his -- Luna's -- hand to his face. Smooth, soft. His fingers traced over the foreign features, feeling the curve of her cheekbones, the button-like softness of her nose, the plumpness of her lips. Her nose felt particularly different. It was smaller and flatter than his own, and, strangely, easier to breathe through.
His heart was beating like a war drum in his tiny chest as he slowly lowered his hand again, careful not to touch anything inappropriate. That thought brought his mind to the body below him, hidden beneath his clothes. He had tits on his chest. Luna’s tits. A warmth spread through his nether region, and a very strange sensation of a wetness appearing in his underwear. A wetness… He had a vagina! He, Alphonse, could feel Luna’s vagina. Involuntarily, he felt it pulse at the thought, a wave of foreign pleasure spreading up through him.
Oh god, oh god. Could she tell? Surely she could tell. She was supposed to be aware of everything. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d blown it!
His breathing increased, his heart pounded. He felt his new face flush, and his fingers began to lightly tingle. He needed to get out! Out out out! Something instinctual kicked in within him and he found himself reaching out with that mental limb, that construct of a UI, and somehow managed to force himself out of the body. He felt like he was swimming upward, through currents and waves pushing him back down, upward and upward towards the light, his body going numb, his senses a dull ringing!
With a jolt, Alphonse found himself laying on his back.
The sudden sensation of returning to his own body was a shock in and of itself, like being thrust into ice-cold water. His senses scrambled to readjust, vertigo swooping through him like a bird of prey. The ceiling spun above him, a hazy whirl of colours before it gradually settled into the familiar sight.
He blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. His hands, rougher and larger, lay on his stomach. He was back in his body.
Sitting up, Alphonse drew in a shuddering breath. From across the room, Luna began to laugh, a sound as clear and bright as the sun. "Holy shit, Alphonse! Did you really control me?"
Her eyes were shining with excitement as she sat up. Her fingers brushed back the hair from her face, her movements noticeably more fluid and familiar than when Alphonse was in charge.
“Um”, said Alphonse, “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Al! This is amazing!” she looked down at herself, then she grabbed her boobs through her shirt and jiggled them up and down. “It’s so weird. I felt like I really wanted to do this a few moments ago, but couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Being controlled by this thing is wild!”
“Oh… um…” Alphonse stammered. “I- uh- I didn’t do anything! I was decent!”
“Yeah, yeah I know!” said Luna with a laugh. “I was getting so horny though. It must have been really strange for you to feel me getting horny while you were in control. Sorry about that!”
“Um, yeah, it was odd.” Alphonse said, blushing.
“Wait! You were in control! I didn’t get horny! You did!” Luna cackled like a madman. “Oh my god that’s so much worse. You made me horny!”
Alphonse buried his head in his hands, but he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he always assumed Luna would act way more… normal… then she did.
Luna bounced on the spot, her face ablaze with excitement, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she examined her own hands. "You know what's crazy? I was fully aware. I knew what I was doing, how I was moving… I felt like I was doing everything myself!" She tilted her head back, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling in wonderment. "But like, I knew that I wasn’t? I saw you fall back, I knew I was acting unnatural, but it was just… it felt so normal!! Al, this stuff is incredible. If I didn’t know I was going to be controlled, there is no way I’d be able to tell."
Alphonse watched her, his own thoughts a jumble of emotions. Awe, curiosity, apprehension, guilt...
"Did you... um, did you feel uncomfortable?" he asked tentatively, his gaze dropping to his own lap.
Luna let out a bark of laughter. "Uncomfortable? No! It was insane! Good insane! Sort of like... you know when you're in a dream, and you're just kind of going along with it because dream logic?"
Alphonse nodded, an uneasy chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense..."
“You made me feel so awkward!” Luna chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “When I was trying not to look at my boobs, I felt like a naughty school girl caught kissing in the locker room. If you wanted to see them that bad, you could have just asked.” she winked at him, and Alphonse felt himself turning a deep red and his previously subsiding erection shot back up. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Anyway! My turn now!”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes! I want a turn! It’s only fair - you got to be me.”
Alphonse cringed. One part of him desperately wanted Luna to experience being him, and he was scared and turned on at the idea of being controlled by his crush. Another part of him was aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and the fact that Luna would know.
“Hurry up! I can’t see you yet!” Luna called out, her eyes squeezed shut as she navigated the ghostly UI.
Fuck it.
Alphonse reached out with that strange new part of his mind, and found the right settling. A strange sensation went through his body as he flipped it from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. There he was. Totally exposed.
“Okay, I’m-”
He stopped talking and looked down at himself. What would it feel like to be controlled? Nearby, Luna’s body slumped to the ground.
“Wow, you were really excited!” he said to himself as he reached down to adjust his erection. It seemed to grow three times harder as he tried to adjust it, not quite getting the usual knack right.
“Do you mind?” he said, and began undoing his belt.
Some part of him cringed for a moment. He really shouldn’t undress with Luna right there. She literally just needed to turn her head a little, and she’d see him exposing himself right in front of her!
Wait a minute…
Alphonse tried to say something to Luna, to ask if she had remote accessed his nanobots, but some part of him decided against it. Best not to disturb her.
Best… not to disturb her? What the hell?
He was being controlled, wasn’t he?
It didn’t feel like it. He stared down at his hands as they worked his belt and buttons. It felt like he was just taking off his pants. But… Luna was passed out, he’d set his nanobots to receive the connection, and they had literally just agreed to have her control him.
Even knowing all of that, Alphonse didn’t believe it in his bones.
“Wow, these things really are powerful”, he thought.
He finally got the buckle undone and ripped his pants down, his erect dick catching a bit as he yanked them roughly. He stared at it. Average size, average width. Hard as a nail. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
Hey wait, if he was being controlled by Luna right now, did that mean she was feeling turned on too?
He reached down to feel it in his hands, gently running his fingers along the length of his shaft, and lightly squeezing the end. It felt amazing.
Not just feeling turned on too, she was turning him on. If Alphonse was being controlled, then this wasn’t really his erection! It was hers!
He wanted to chuckle at that thought, but decided not to.
He reached a little lower and cupped his balls, lightly lifting them with his hand and feeling how they responded. He gave them a little slap and felt them jiggle.
“Hah, that’s not so bad.” he said “I knew guys were exaggerating.”
He flicked one a little harder and- Argh!
A heavy throbbing pain washed over him. The taste of bile appeared in his throat. He doubled over and gasped.
“Ugh. Okay. Okay. Bad idea.”
Still, he was hard. The pain gradually subsided as he played more with his erect dick. He wanted so badly to quickly rub one out, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to get into bed or the bathroom to do it the way he usually would.
Instead, Alphonse reached up to his chest and cupped his pecks through his t-shirt.
“Heh, these certainly beat boobs”, he said. He tapped one, and tried to make them dance by flexing them, but couldn’t quite manage it properly. Then he grabbed his shirt, dug his fingers in hard, and with as much force as he could muster, tore it open right down the middle.
“I always wanted to do that!” he laughed. “I guess I owe you a shirt now.”
Pretty soon his eyes fell upon Luna’s unconscious body, slumped on the ground. He effortlessly picked it up and dumped it on his bed, giggling as he watched her flop around.
“I’m so light! I never realised how easy that was for you!” he laughed again, pushing Luna’s empty head side to side. “I should be a lot less impressed, but you do have some serious muscles for such a serious geek.”
He flexed an arm and looked at it approvingly. Meanwhile, his dick still beckoned.
He found himself biting his lip.
“Now”, he said to himself, “I knoooow how you felt when you were me. And how I felt like I was doing everything. And I don’t want to freak you out. But, this is me in here. This is Luna speaking right now.”
Alphonse tried to force that thought to stay with him. It still didn’t feel like it.
“And that’s my body lying right there.” he continued, “So, I’m going to just go ahead, and, well…”
He looked down at his dick again, which had hardened right back up to full mast. Then, Alphonse found himself climbing on top of the bed… over Luna’s vacant face… and…
Oh, no, he couldn’t do that, could he?
He lined up his dick and gently pushed it into Luna’s mouth.
But it was Luna doing this, right? Luna was controlling him now?
He slowly pushed it inside, passed the teeth, and deep down her throat.
“Hah. No gag reflex!” he laughed.
If Luna was controlling him, did that mean she wanted to give him a blowjob? Or… did she want to get a blowjob?
He began thrusting slowly. It felt… very strange. He was extraordinarily horny, and the idea that Luna was making him do this was hot as fuck, but at the same time, the blowjob kind of sucked.
“I wish I could make my body suck properly!” said Alphonse, frustrated. He readjusted his position, and pushed in deeper. He could feel Luna’s body’s lips pressing right down near the base of his shaft.
Did Luna have a crush on him? Or did this fall under the category of masturbation?
He didn’t have long to think about it because soon, far sooner than he was ready, he felt a familiar barrier get crossed, and his load spurted out into Luna’s throat and over her face. The orgasm was a surprisingly disappointing one, all things considered.
“Gah!” he said. “That can’t be it!”
He kept thrusting, but his dick quickly became soft and uncomfortably sensitive against Luna’s teeth. He sighed.
“That was definitely an experience. Thanks Alphonse.”
He wanted to collapse down onto the bed and fall asleep, but instead he found himself climbing off of Luna. Without bothering to get dressed, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up her face a bit.
“Might as well do this before heading back!”
And with that, he lay down on the floor, still naked below the waist, and-
“What the hell…” muttered Alphonse. Nearby, Luna pushed herself up, gagging slightly.
“Ugh, that is not very comfortable on this end.” she coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“That was… did you really control me?” Alphonse asked.
“Na-dar. Looking good by the way.” she smirked.
Alphonse glanced down and then sat up with a start. Apparently he’d- she’d- forgotten to put his pants back on. He quickly covered himself up, blushing.
“That was the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life.” he said.
“Maybe third, for me” Luna laughed. “Hey, sorry for really jumping into it, I just… ah, I dunno, you felt the same things right?”
Alphonse nodded, blushing. “It felt like I was the one doing everything.”
“I know right!” Luna smiled down at him. “I think we need to bring the others in on this.”
“Really?”
“Ye-huh. Tomorrow night. I’ve got a game in mind.”
Luna picked up her bag.
“I really need a shower after all of that. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And with that, she left. Alphonse flopped back down and sighed. What he just unleashed?
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Jake is ready to move on from his on-and-off girlfriend, Sue, as he gets ready to enjoy one last summer with his friends before heading off to college. Sue isn't having any of it and goes as far as to cast a spell on Jake to ensure that she'll be the closest person to him, but it doesn't go exactly as she had planned.
Jake was out enjoying a Saturday at the mall with his friends. They were enjoying the excitement and energy that comes with enjoying a final summer together before they all went their separate ways for college and other plans in the fall. He felt a need to spend as much time as he could with his friends to make up for time lost during high school when Jake was dating Sue, his on and off again girlfriend with a controlling personality, great looks, less-than-average common sense, and a general lack of critical thinking skills. That was at least the polite description that Jake had come up with in his head to describe Sue. He wasn’t going to let her take another summer away from him, especially not after how she stood him up at their senior prom just two months prior.
After walking around the mall for a couple of hours and spending a fair bit of time at the arcade, Jake and his friends settled down at a table in the food court to take a break and figure out what they were going to have for lunch. The conversation soon shifted from food to talking about Jake’s mom, Martha. The guys had always given Jake a hard time about his mom and how hot she was.
“Jake, quick question,” said Alex. “If I paid 100 dollars, could you swipe a couple of pairs of your mom’s underwear for me?”
“You know, with the way you guys obsess over my mom, I can never tell if you’re kidding or not. Also, no. She’s my mom, and I will not do that for any amount of money,” replied Jake.
“Ok, fine,” Alex continued. “But can you at least tell me what kind of underwear she’s wearing? Such as the kind she might wear with a long dress with sunflowers on it?
“That is an almost creepily specific request,” laughed Jake.
‘Well,” answered Alex. “I ask because…”
Jake turned to follow Alex’s gaze to see his mom, Martha, walking over to their table. She smiled and waved at the group, stopping behind Jake and resting her hands on his shoulders with a slight squeeze.
“Hi, Mom,” said Jake, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I didn't realize you’d be here today. Where is Dad and everyone else?”
“Oh, he’s around here somewhere trying to find us a table and something to eat. You know how he gets. Has to have the perfect table. He’s an odd man, but I love him dearly, just like I love my little Jakey wakey baby boy!”
Martha leaned down, wrapped her arms around Jake, and planted a loud, wet kiss on his cheek. When she did, Alex and the others on the opposite side of the table caught a glimpse of Martha’s well-endowed breasts, struggling against her bra as her dress flapped from the quick motion. Jake made a show of trying to push her away to get Martha to stop embarrassing him in front of his friends. In reality, however, he appreciated her attention and care. His mom was a loving person, well-known and highly regarded in the community, a woman of stunning beauty but modest appetite for attention. She loved her three children more than anything in the world.
“Ok, that’s enough, mom. Thank you,” said Jake as he gently pushed at his mother. “You can go and embarrass your other children now.”
Matha laughed and gave Jake another hug from behind, unknowingly squishing her breasts against the top of his head and giving his friends an unprecedented view of her cleavage. She was a modest woman with the body of a goddess, and everyone in her vicinity who was attracted to the feminine form found themselves wanting for more as she walked by. But Martha had no desire to show off her body and only ever wanted to make love to her husband, not fuck, bang, or experiment. She was happy with her modest and relatively vanilla life, and that is what made those around her desire her all the more.
“Well,” said Martha as she stepped back from the table. “I should let you boys get back to your fun-filled day. I’m sure you have a lot planned for this summer before you’re all off to college, so make the most of it, and please stop by before the summer is over so we can all say goodbye and wish you luck before you go.”
Jake’s friends could only nod and mumble, still transfixed by the previous sight of Martha’s chest. As she walked away to find her husband, the boys’ eyes followed the sway of her hips outlined by her summer dress. They were all startled and attempted to avert their gaze as Martha abruptly stopped and returned to the table.
“One more thing, Jake,” she said as she again wrapped her arms around her son. “You’re dad, and I are getting some things for vacation coming up. Text me before you leave the mall today, and let me know if there is anything you need us to get. We’ll be out and about yet this afternoon with some more shopping.”
Jake just nodded and smiled at his mom, laughing as his friends practically drooled over the table as they stared at Martha. Finally, shaking himself out of his trance, Alex asked Martha what she had been shopping for already in preparation for the family’s annual trip to the US Virgin Islands. When Martha just listed off some basic items like towels and sunscreen, Alex suggested that she check out LustiLadi if she wanted a new swimsuit.
Martha smiled and replied to Alex, saying, “Thank you, Alex. I’ve never heard of that brand, but I’ll be sure to try something on of theirs before I leave the mall today. You all seem very enthusiastic about their products. They must be quite popular.”
The boys lost themselves in daydreams of Martha’s beautiful body in a skimpy swimsuit, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Jake took the opportunity to stand up, hug his mom, and walk her away from the table before one of the other guys said anything else. He sent his mom off to enjoy the rest of her shopping. Then he returned to the table to rouse his friends from their erotic daydreams of his mother in a bikini, or their wishes of a sudden gust of wind to raise her dress to reveal her voluptuous backside outlined under her dress.
Eventually, Jake and his friends wrap up their lunch in the food court and head toward the exit of the mall to find something else to do to spend their afternoon. On the way out, Sue seemingly materializes out of nowhere to stop them from going through the door and heading outside. They all stared at each other for several moments before Jake told the others to head out and start the car and that he would be right there. Alex rolled his eyes and led the others around Sue and out the doors, mumbling, “She’s gonna reel him back in and fuck up the whole summer again.”
None of them liked Sue. She and Jake had dated on and off through high school, and she never wanted to commit to him. Her affection toward Jake only flared up when he seemed to be getting eyes for someone else. At that point, Sue would swoop in and steal Jake back and away from his friends.
Jake had come to recognize this pattern with the help of his friends, and this time he felt ready to keep Sue out of his life. In some ways, he had been waiting for this moment to tell her off and to finally reveal to her that she was the reason he was going to college out of state. He had assumed she would find out eventually and wanted to try to talk him out of it and again be in control of his life. They remained silent for several more moments before Sue finally spoke.
“I had thought and hoped you’d be going to school around here in the fall. A voice in my head has been telling me that we could try again and make this thing work as college sweethearts,” she said as she stepped toward Jake.
Jake didn’t initially respond. He stood still and waited for her to keep going. He knew what she would try to do, and he wanted to wait to tell her off to maximize her embarrassment and his satisfaction. Frustration began to boil up inside Sue. In previous attempts to get Jake’s attention, it was usually enough just to show up and say some sweet things, and he’d come crawling back to her. She stepped closer to him and put on a coy smile, desperate to keep Jake with her over the summer and into the fall.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” she said as she placed a hand on his chest. “I was thinking we could maybe head up to the lake this afternoon and talk. I got something from LustiLadi today that I want to show you.”
Sue held up a bag and opened it slightly to reveal a collection of micro bikinis and a box of condoms. Jake laughed to himself and pushed past her saying, “Lucky for me, I started listening to my friends these last few months after you stood me up at the prom. Have a good summer, Sue.”
That was all he had to say. Jake brushed passed Sue and jogged through the parking lot to catch up with his friends. The guys were happy to see Jake and greeted him with a chorus of cheers when he told them what Sue had tried and how he had responded. They headed out with plans to make the most of the afternoon and the rest of their summer. Meanwhile, Sue pouted and sulked around the mall before a revelation struck her, and she rushed home. She ran up to the attic and began tearing through box after box of her late grandmother’s belongings. With each box turning up little more than old clothes, Sue grew increasingly frustrated.
“Where is it, you old hag?” she spat, tearing through yet another box. “ I swear if you got rid of that spellbook or took it to your grave, I’ll dig up your bones and desecrate them.”
No sooner had she finished her sentence than a large thud erupted from the floor. An old, black book had fallen out of the box she was going through and onto the floor. Slowly, Sue knelt down and picked up the book, cradling it as she would a newborn child. She slowly walked back down to her room, where she closed and locked the door. Jake was going to be hers, whether it was by his own will or not.
Sue flipped through the book until she found a spell that sounded promising, one that would make her the closest person to Jake and his strongest feelings of love. She began the spell, gathering the required herbs and tokens, including some of her own hair that she collected from the shirt she’d been wearing that day. Unbeknownst to Sue, some of the hair was not hers but Martha’s. It had come off on Jake when Martha hugged him in the food court and then from Jake to Sue when he pushed past her at the mall exit. That, combined with Sue’s rudimentary understanding of Latin, ensured the spell would never go off as she had intended.
The next day, Sue woke up feeling groggy and almost hungover. She rolled out of bed and shuffled toward the bathroom, only to find she had walked into a closet. “Stayed up too late with that damn spell,” she mumbled.
Frustrated and still half asleep, she shuffled out of the closet, not noticing it wasn’t hers to begin with. Once in the bathroom, she sat down to pee and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Progress was slow, and she still felt out of sorts as she finished on the toilet and shuffled over to the sink to wash her hands and face. When she finally looked into the mirror, she screamed as she saw Martha’s face staring back at her.
She reached up with shaking hands, touched her face, and pulled at her hair, feeling the pressure and sensations.
“Who…what…how… THE SPELL!” she exclaimed.
Jake’s dad, Ron, came running into the bathroom.
“Martha, sweetie, what’s wrong?!?” he asked frantically.
He ran over and put his arms around who he thought was his wife and held her close.
“What happened?” he asked as he stroked Martha’s head.
Sue panicked at first but quickly gained her composure. The adrenaline of the initial shock was wearing off, and she could now think more clearly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry…um…you…sweet husband man,” Sue stammered in Martha’s voice.
“Ron. Honey. My name is Ron. Did you hit your head or something?” said Jake’s dad, growing concern in his eyes. He loved his wife dearly and the life they had built together. While at times he wished she was a little more outgoing and adventurous, he still adored her and the stability their relationship had.
Sue kept trying to rack her brain for memories of Jake’s dad as she spoke. “I had the worst dreams last night, and when I came into the bathroom, I was still half asleep. I could have sworn I saw someone else in the mirror,” said Sue. “Thank you for being so protective of me.”
She hugged Ron and had a sudden thought about seeing him and Jake out on the boat together the previous summer when she had joined the family on a weekend camping trip. Sensations of pleasure and arousal pulsed through her. Sue had always thought that both Jake and his dad were very attractive. They both had athletic builds and spent a great deal of time at the athletic center, where Ron was a fitness instructor and swim coach. Where it would have been taboo for a nineteen-year-old to pursue a middle-aged man, Sue realized she could get away with anything she wanted. She could have Ron anytime she liked, and Jake was just down the hall, at least for the summer.
“Oh, dear, I sometimes forget just how strong you are,” purred Sue as she ran her hands over Ron. “I bet you could pick me up right now without issue and fuck this milf pussy right here on the bathroom counter.”
Ron was stunned. Never in the twenty years that he and Martha had been married had she ever spoken to him like that. They certainly had good and satisfying sex, but it was always an act of passion and love and never born of lust and intensity. He looked into Martha’s eyes and was confused when he saw a spark and energy he had never noticed before. The usual loving and nurturing look her eyes carried had been replaced with fiery, lustful energy. It was enthralling, intoxicating, and more than enough to overwhelm any voice of warning or logic in his mind. Seeming to work of their own accord, Ron’s hands swiftly removed Martha’s clothes before cupping her ass and hoisting her up to the counter.
Sue couldn’t help but smile and laugh to herself as Ron’s hands raced over her in Martha’s body. She pulled his shirt off to reveal his chiseled form as she deftly pulled his athletic shorts down using her feet in one swift motion. Ron’s erection popped up and down from the momentum.
“Wow,” mouthed Sue through Martha. Her eyes followed the motion of Ron’s member before moving up to meet his eyes. When he tried to move forward into her, she stopped him with her foot and coyly pushed him back into the wall with her foot as her hand moved down toward her abdomen. Ron’s eyes followed her hand and never wavered as Sue began playing with herself.
“I have to get things a little warmed up for that big cock of yours, baby, cooed Sue as she intensified the motion of her fingers. She could see precum dripping from Ron. When he tried to touch himself, she slapped his hand with her other foot and shook her finger at him.
“Let that pressure keep building, whispered Sue through Martha. You’re going to explode inside of me and fill me with your cum, but not until I let you.”
Sue continued to tease herself, building momentum and tension. Meanwhile, Ron could only look at his wife’s perfect form on display before him in a way he had only ever dreamed of. It was all too much for him. The powerful sensation of an unstoppable orgasm had already been building and passed its point of no return faster than Ron could react. Cum erupted from his cock. He leaned forward and furiously stroked himself and continued to spray cum onto who he thought was his wife, covering her stomach, breasts, and face.
“Oh yes, cum for me, baby! cried Sue through Martha. “Give it all to me!”
Ron fell back against the wall, his erection still firm and twitching. Sue hopped from the counter, dripping cum as she went, and began kissing Ron while stroking him through his post-orgasm sensitivity. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth, again catching him off guard. Never before had his wife been interested in sex of this caliber. The excitement of it all was almost too much to bear, and he began to wonder what could have happened to change her behavior so drastically. But his questioning was short-lived as Sue stroked him ever faster, her hand slipping nimbly over his cum coated erection.
“Dad,” called Jake from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you up there? I’m ready to go to the gym.”
Ron tried to get Sue to stop as he answered Jake, but she continued to stroke him furiously, spurred on by the sound of Jake’s voice.
“Be down …in a minute…just.. in the bathroom…oooohhhhh,” Ron grunted as his voice trailed off. Sue finally released her grip on Ron as he came again, spilling his load onto her legs and the floor.
“Okay,” said Jake slowly. “Don’t want to know what you’re doing up there, but maybe leave the door open when you’re done in the bathroom to air it out for Mom.”
Ron sighed before slumping down to the floor. Sue admired her handiwork through Martha’s eyes before walking over and grabbing a towel from the rack next to the shower. She looked over her shoulder at Ron before slowly and sensually bending over to wipe off her legs. Then, she turned and cleaned her stomach, chest, and face, before passing the towel to him as she stood at the counter to wash her face and get ready for the day. All the while, Martha’s supple ass was inches from Ron’s face.
He could feel the lust building up again but knew he needed to get down to Jake. Against his basal desires, Ron stood up and pressed himself against his wife, wrapping his arms around her and cupping her breasts as he pressed his newly erect penis gently against her ass. Kissing her neck slowly, he said, “I’ll have something more for you later tonight.”
Then he got dressed and left with Jake to go to the gym. Jake’s siblings were also out of the house for the day, enjoying the beautiful summer Sunday with their friends. Sue enjoyed having the house to herself and spent the better part of the morning in a bath before getting dressed and snooping around the house. She did so while wearing a tight tank top with no bra and a short skirt she had found in Jake’s sister’s room after deciding that Martha’s taste in clothing was not her style. Eventually, Sue made her way into Jake’s room and searched about for anything that might indicate he was talking to or interested in another girl. When she found nothing exciting, she put on his wireless headphones and lost herself dancing to music in the middle of his room.
Before long, Jake returned home, having left his dad at the gym to teach a class where the usual instructor had called out sick. Jake walked into his room and stopped dead at the sight of his mother dancing like a young woman at amateur night in a club, trying to show the crowd that she was the next big thing. Her shirt failed at times to completely contain Martha’s large breasts, and the skirt rode up, exposing her bare ass any time she bent down during her dance. He called out to her more than once, trying to ask what the hell she was doing, but the dance continued. Finally, Jake stepped forward and pulled the headphones off his mother’s head.
Sue turned around, startled, and gazed at Jake through Martha’s eyes. A well of passion and lust welled within her as memories of Jake’s dad flooded her mind. That, coupled with the lack of release earlier in the bathroom with Jake’s dad, had Sue hungry for more. She eyed Jake with hungry, lustful eyes, admiring his toned frame that lay partially hidden beneath his sweaty clothes. As Sue stepped toward Jake in Martha’s body, he stepped back until he was against the wall.
Jake’s heart pounded as a mix of adrenaline, lust, and fear surged through him. Something was deeply wrong with the situation, and he knew it didn’t make sense. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel physically attracted to the woman standing before him, his mother. His gym shorts did little to hide how his body was reacting to the situation, and it only became more evident as Sue took his hand and guided it under her skirt. He shivered at the touch. It was hot and dripping wet. The temptation to push further in nearly overwhelmed Jake just as his cell phone started to ring. His ringtone snapped Jake back to reality, and he pushed past Sue and ran back downstairs to take his call.
Sue went after him but stopped at the bottom of the stairs to look out the front window at Alex walking up the sidewalk to the house. He saw who he thought was Martha and waved at her before coming up and knocking on the door. Opening the door, Sue smiled at Alex and made a point to drive Alex’s focus toward Martha’s breasts. She knew Alex didn’t like her, and she was determined to get some sort of revenge on him.
“Hey Martha, um. Is, uh. Is Jake home?” stammered Alex as he tried to keep his eyes on Martha’s.
“He is home, but he’s a bit busy at the moment. Did you two have some plans this afternoon?”
“Um, not really,” said Alex, his eyes again dropping to Martha’s breasts. “I just wanted to see if he wanted to hang out since you guys are leaving for your trip in a few days.”
Sue had forgotten all about Jake’s family’s annual trip to the Caribbean. A malicious smile crossed her face as she thought through her options and what she would be able to do on the trip. Finally, she turned her attention back to Alex, who waited awkwardly on the front steps.
“I’m sorry dear, but Jake won’t be free tonight. We’ve still got quite a bit of packing to do,” said Sue through Maratha. “I know that must be disappointing. So, to make it up to you, would you like me to show you my tits? I can see they have your attention already.”
Alex stared at her in astonishment before blurting, “YES!”
Sue laughed hysterically as she shouted, “No!” and slammed the door in Alex’s face before retreating back upstairs to plan her next move. She spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hiding out in Martha’s bedroom, listening to music and messaging her friend Valerie on an instant messaging app she had downloaded on Martha’s phone, which was not password protected but used a fingerprint sensor.
Sue: Valerie, do you remember how I told you how weird my grandma was and how she was always talking nonsense and bullshit and cooking bizarre stuff in her creepy shed?
Valerie: Yeah. I always assumed that was code for drugs or something, like she was making meth.
Sue: No, that bitch was a witch!
Valerie: Now I’m thinking that you’re the one doing drugs.
Sue: Val, seriously. She brewed potions and cast spells, and she wrote her own book with everything that she knew, and I have it. My parents had stashed it away in the attic with a bunch of her other stuff that they took from her house after she died. I used the book, and I did something big.
Valerie: Ok. I’ll play along. What did you do that is so big?
Sue: Well, if we’re talking about big things that I did, I made Jake’s dad cum all over me by hardly touching him at all.
Valerie: WTF
Valerie: GTFO
Valerie: Seriously, what?!? What did you do? Is he big? He’s so fucking hot. God! I’d scream and cream for that Dad D.
Sue: I see that I have your attention now. I cast a spell, and I took over Martha’s body—Jake’s mom.
Valerie: I’m sorry. What?
Sue: If you don’t believe me. Look at this video.
Sue attached a video of herself talking through Martha and told Valerie the intricate details of every secret conversation they had ever had with one another.
Valerie: Holy shit. This is unbelievable.
Sue: Girl, It’s fucking amazing. You have to try this. I bet we can get you in on this with someone else in the family, like Jake’s twin sister, and then we can go on this trip in a few days. They go to the Virgin Islands every Summer. Leaving on Wednesday.
Valerie: Idk, sounds pretty crazy. What if we’re caught?
Sue: Not gonna happen. This whole thing is foolproof.
Valerie: I guess it could be fun. Jake’s dad is pretty hot. How and when would we do it, though? And what are you going to do tomorrow and Tuesday before leaving for the trip? Doesn’t Jake's mom like work at that big insurance office?
Sue: Wait…work? Oh shit.
Valerie: And what happened to Martha? Is she like dead now or something? How do we reverse the spell when we’re done with this?
Sue: I have it all figured out. There’s just another little spell we do to undo the spell when we’re ready. As for Martha, I don’t really care where she is. Probably in some sort of dimensional rift. Not my problem. I have to go. Jake’s dad is home, and I’m going to go help him in the shower after he spent all day getting hot and sweaty in the gym. Think about his naked body covered with soap, his muscles glistening in the water, and use that as your motivation to do this with me. Just think, two weeks' vacation with him on a beach where he will hardly ever be wearing a shirt. Might even get some chances to fuck him. Just saying, if you were serious about that scream and cream bit. ;)
Sue left Valerie to think about Ron and his toned body and hurried to the doorway of the bedroom to call out for Ron to come upstairs to help her with something. She was determined to feel him inside her this time. As he made his way up the stairs, Ron felt the same powerful urges of lust bubbling up inside him. He knew his wife was waiting for him, and he had to have her in every way possible. But it was not his wife for whom he lusted. A voice in the back of his head tried to tell him something was wrong, but it was drowned out as he walked into the bedroom to see Sue in Martha’s body, waiting for him in nothing but a short bathrobe Sue had taken from Jake’s sister’s room. The voice of caution and reason faded away as he took Sue in his arms and began kissing her.
On the other side of town that same morning, Martha awoke in a strange room she didn’t recognize. Her breathing rapidly increased when she looked at herself in the large vanity mirror in the corner of the room. As she worked to slow her breathing to keep from passing out, Martha’s thoughts raced and puzzled over what was happening.
“Am I still asleep?” she thought. “Was I drugged? Where was I last? What did I eat? Where is Ron? Oh, Ron!”
Martha collapsed to the floor in Sue’s body and cried. Several minutes passed before she was able to regain her composure. As her sobs faded away, an eerie calm came over the room. The sudden buzz of a cell phone on the nightstand startled Martha from her solemn state. Feeling on edge and unsure, she slowly edged toward the phone and picked it up, and was surprised when it unlocked with her fingerprint. “I need to figure out what is going on. I know that I’m Martha, but I’m not… I’m...Oh, this is so confusing and overwhelming…”
Martha’s internal monologue stopped as she came to a haunting realization as she pulled up different social media accounts on the phone. She slowly stood up and set the phone back on the nightstand before returning to the mirror.
“Sue,” she whispered. “I recognize the face now. Oh Susan, you wretched child, what have you done?”
Feeling her calm increasing, Martha walked back over to the nightstand and sat back on the bed to dive into any and all information she could pull from the device. She knew that Sue was a very social individual and talked to a lot of people. Martha was confident that she could find more information on what had happened and how she might be able to fix what had happened.
After gathering all of the information about Sue through her social media accounts, Martha decided to check through her texts as well, thinking she may have talked to someone about what she did to switch their bodies or do whatever it was that she did. Sue’s texts were full of conversations with different guys she had gone to school with and guys from around town. Every conversation was a different level of sexting full of lewd photos and language Martha had rarely encountered and certainly never used. Certainly, she enjoyed being aroused and making love with her husband, but there was something untamed about these messages. There was little to no emotion associated with the exchanges, just pure, undiluted lust. She was surprised and moderately impressed with how Sue was able to get just about anything she wanted, and all she had to do was make sexual promises she never actually seemed to keep and send some photos of herself.
As Martha continued to read through the messages, her venture became less about finding information about Sue and what she had done to Martha and more about a morbid curiosity about sexual escapades she had never considered. A tingling sensation grew in Martha’s stomach, like a thousand writhing butterflies. The sensation spread lower, and she began to feel flushed and excited as her heart rate increased.
“No,” she thought as she looked through more pictures these men were sending to Sue. “I need to be looking around for information. I should get ready, trying going home, talking to Ron and explain what’s going on.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Martha put the phone done and continued to look through the room. Looking under Sue’s bed, she saw a box. Pulling it out, Martha was greeted by an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and other sex toys. She stared at them for several moments, feeling the tingling sensation return, stronger than before. Shivering with a mix of excitement and anticipation, Martha slowly reached toward the box but stopped when something caught her attention in her peripheral vision. Turning her head, Martha looked toward the desk. Underneath it was a large, weathered black book that looked very out of place. The tingling sensation ebbed away as she crawled over to the book and began to look through it.
Page after page revealed potions and spells to treat any ailment or concern a person could have. Martha’s eyes darted from word to word until they froze on a particular passage that described the spell Sue had performed. Martha read and reread the passage and the warnings associated with the spell.
“That little monster,” Martha said to herself. “Now that I know what you’ve done, I can confront you and fix this mess before something terrible happens. But first…”
Martha looked back toward the box on the floor next to the bed. The tingling returned in full force, and she passed the point of no return. She needed a release and would have it one way or another. Positioning herself on the bed with one of the toys in hand, Martha removed the clothes she had woken up in and began to tease herself. She had never done much, if anything, to pleasure herself, but her hands and body seemed to know what felt best. The toy she had selected had initially seemed odd and complicated, with multiple attachments Martha wasn’t entirely sure how to use. But the size and shape of the main shaft of the toy seemed to closely resemble her husband’s cock, and that’s all Martha was able to see. She looked at the toy, and she just saw Ron in her mind, leaning over her as he spread her legs and slid into her.
As the thought of Ron penetrating her crossed her mind, Martha slid the main shaft of the toy into her pussy, slowly and deliberately. The sensation sent shivers through her body as she continued to slowly slide the toy in and out, increasing the depth and speed each time. Within thirty seconds, her rhythm was quick and consistent. Martha looked down and admired the sight of the toy glistening with her body’s own lubrication. She noticed buttons on the side of the toy and haphazardly began to push them, desperate to increase the sensation she was feeling.
The first button started the toy’s main vibrating function, causing Martha to squeal slightly as a new sensation of pleasure began building and spilling over. Another button activated one of the attachments, which lowered itself onto Martha’s protruding clitoris and caressed it as a lover’s tongue might.
“Mmphff,” exhaled Martha through Sue’s voice. “Oh, Ron, why haven’t I ever asked you to use your tongue on me? Oh, this feels amazing. Oh, Ron! Oh, Honey, YES!”
Waves of pleasure built and crashed over Martha. She closed her eyes as they rolled back, and the sensations washed over her, making her shiver with delight and craving more. The pleasure she felt was building, and Martha was determined to reach a climax. Her right hand continued to push buttons on the toy as her left moved up to caress her breasts and tease her nipples. She wondered if the strength of the sensations was simply because she was in Sue’s body or if she had just never thought to explore all of the feelings and sensations that sex had to offer. Her thoughts were cut short, however, as she pressed a button that activated another attachment on the toy that began to tease and explore her asshole.
“Oh no! That’s not…” started Martha. “Not…so bad.”
The anal attachment slowly continued to caress and tease her, probing her and adding to the overall feeling of excitement. Martha repositioned herself and spread her legs a little further to allow better access for the toy. It almost seemed to sense what she was doing and probed a little deeper still. She continued to fuck her pussy and clit with the other attachments, adding to the continuous stream of juices that ran down over her asshole as the third attachment continued to probe deeper still, its speed increasing until it was fucking Martha’s ass at the same pace with which she was fucking her pussy.
A sudden feeling of panic surged through Martha just as her climax was building. What if she wasn’t alone in the house? But the feeling faded as fast as it came as the waves of pleasure increased in frequency and intensity. Martha was going to let this orgasm live if it was the last thing she did.
“Oh, Ron, YES! MAKE ME CUM FOR YOU, HONEY!”
Martha couldn’t help but scream for her husband as she reached her peak. An involuntary series of moans escaped her lips as she continued driving the toy into herself. A growing wet spot had formed on the blankets underneath her, and she was sweating profusely. Her arms burned and cried for respite, but still, she kept her rhythm through the strongest waves of blissful sensation that pulsed through her whole body. She clenched hard against the motion of the toy, arching her back as her pace finally began to slow down. Martha shivered and squirmed from overstimulation as she fumbled to turn the toy off completely. Even though she was no longer thrusting it into her pussy, the attachments continued to work her ass and clit, threatening to drive her crazy. At this point, she was overly sensitive, and each new pulse of the toy nearly sent her over the edge again. Finally, she managed to power everything down and relaxed into the soft bed, the toy still inside her.
A euphoric calm came over Martha. Her mind was filled with blissful thoughts, wisping in and out of existence. Her muscles also felt a sense of release and calm, as if she had just finished a relaxing massage.
“Oh, Ron, when I get back home and am myself again, I think I might finally be ready to try some new things in the bedroom,” Martha whispered to herself. “I don’t know how much of that was me and how much was that little monster, Sue, but I don’t think I can come back from it. The feeling was too amazing, too strong, too sensual to ignore.”
Martha slowly and carefully slid the toy out and dropped it onto the floor with a dull thud. Her hand reached down and touched the bed beneath her and felt the magnitude of the wet spot she had created. She giggled to herself before slowly getting out of the bed, still feeling tender and sensitive.
“I am going to clean this mess up and then have a shower,” thought Martha. “After that, we’re going to take this book, confront Sue, and get this whole mess sorted out.”
Martha took her shower and changed the bedding, all the while thinking to herself that it probably wasn’t the first time something like that had been done in that bed. She felt more confident overall in Sue’s body after having explored herself and opted to wear a short skirt and a tank top. In searching all over the room, she couldn’t find a clean pair of underwear.
“Oh dear,” thought Martha.
She knew that even though the dirty underwear belonged to Sue and was probably safe to wear, she wasn’t comfortable with the prospect of wearing her soiled panties. However, the only other alternative seemed to be to go without entirely.
“Well, I guess I’ll just feel the breeze a little more today,” said Martha as she left the house. She hadn’t run into Sue’s parents, and for that, she was grateful. Suspecting they were off at work or out enjoying the day. Whatever the case was, she was happy they hadn’t seemed to be around when she had been masturbating and that she had some additional time to look around the house. In doing so, she found Sue’s purse with her wallet and car keys. Feeling ready for a confrontation, she stepped outside and looked around to get her bearings on where exactly in town she was. Having grown up and lived in the area all her life, it took Martha just a few seconds to plot a good route to her house and think of a place where she could park the car out of the direct line of sight of her family.
As she drove, Martha rehearsed what she was going to say to Ron and her kids. A short-lived feeling of dread made its way through her mind as she thought about the damage Sue could be doing to her family while masquerading in Martha’s body. She shuddered at the thought and pushed it from her mind, refocusing on different ways the conversation with Ron might go. “He’ll know it’s me,” she thought. “He has to.”
Martha arrived at her predetermined spot and parked the car before walking back toward her house, trying to stay off the street as much as possible and not draw attention to herself. She weaved through backyards and an alley for a few minutes before coming within line of sight of her front door. She saw Jake’s friend Alex walking up to the house and contemplated calling out to him before reasoning that doing so would only cause more issues at the present moment. Instead, she stayed out of sight, using some trees and bushes in the neighbor’s yard as cover, and moved closer to the house. Peering through the bushes, Martha could see the front door and only look on in horror as she saw Sue in her body open it to greet Alex. Every second that Martha looked at Sue in her body, every word that Sue spoke in Martha’s voice made her gut churn. When Sue slammed the door in Alex’s face, Martha knew that she had to do something, but what?
She began to think that a direct confrontation would be a bad idea. Moreover, she noticed that Ron’s car was gone and reasoned that he and Jake were probably at the gym.
“Stop,” Martha said louder than she anticipated. She had only meant to say it to herself.
She covered her mouth and held her breath as Alex stopped walking back toward his car to look around. He looked in her direction and slowly walked over to the bushes. Martha began to panic. She hadn’t planned on having to confront Jake’s friends about all of this, nor had she given any thought to what to say should the situation arise. Alex came around the bushes and stared at her.
“My god, woman,” exclaimed Alex. “Why can you not take no for an answer? How many times do we have to tell you to stay the hell away from Jake? He even told you himself just yesterday to stay out of his life. Give me one good reason not to call the cops on you right now.”
Without thinking, Martha blurted in Sue’s voice, “I’ll suck your dick if you keep your mouth shut!”
She was just as shocked by those words as Alex was. She had not planned on saying that. It had just come out. Martha’s mind raced back to the information she had read in the spell book and even contemplated getting it from the car to show Alex what was going on. There were passages and warnings after the directions for the spell that explained potential hazards and side effects.
The book said that in the event that the spell causes two people to switch bodies, aspects of personality from the original person may still be present. Additionally, the individual who casts the spell can further alter the effects based on their mood and state of mind when the spell was originally performed. In extreme cases, the emotion felt when the spell was cast could even create an influencing aura that affected not only those directly involved with the spell but those they interacted with afterward as well.
While Alex still stood, mouth agape and staring at her, Martha tried to salvage the situation and fight the lustful feelings building up within her.
“No,” she thought. “I can’t let Sue’s libido and pent-up sexual desires control me. I have to be stronger than this magic.”
Martha’s eyes locked with Alex’s gaze. A storm of mixed emotions of fear, arousal, excitement, and anxiety swirled in her mind as the tingling sensation she had felt earlier in the morning returned. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush, and she felt an increased wetness between her thighs. Sexual anticipation charged the air between her and Alex. She stepped toward him.
“No, I can’t!” she screamed in her head. She took another step forward.
“This is Jake’s best friend, and I’ve known him since he was a baby!” she again shouted in her mind. She was just a foot away from Alex, who was still fixed in place, seemingly in shock.
Martha stopped just as she pressed up against Alex with Sue’s body, her hands on the waistband of his shorts. Primal desire told her to rip off his shorts and take his cock in her mouth until he came over and over again. Visions of his cum filling her mouth and covering her face danced through Martha’s mind, and the desire to make them a reality was almost overwhelming. But a voice called out from the confines of her consciousness and told her to stop, that they would be seen, and being arrested for sexual acts in a public setting would not help her get back to her family. The feelings of sexual desire subsided somewhat. Martha looked at Alex through Sue’s eyes.
“Or maybe just the thought of your cock in my mouth is enough to buy your silence?” she purred as she playfully bit at his ear.
She looked down to see a large bulge in Alex’s shorts and a wet spot forming as he leaked precum for her. It took all of Martha’s willpower to keep from grabbing hold of his cock and stroking it until he came for her.
“I think I have your attention now, huh?” she continued as she ran her hands over Alex’s chest. “Why don’t you head on home now and rub one out while you think about my lips around your dick.”
Alex shivered, and the wet spot on his shorts grew a little larger. “Okay,” he whispered as she awkwardly turned and walked back toward his car.
Martha breathed a sigh of relief and decided that she would head back to Sue’s house to make another plan. As much as she wanted to go and confront Sue, she knew she needed to have some sort of backup plan and a means to convince Ron and her family of what was happening. As she drove, her mind wandered to what she had seen Sue wearing when she answered the door, and the feelings of despair returned.
“If this spell is making me overly sexually charged, I can’t imagine what Sue is doing in my body,” thought Martha. “I don’t want to be angry with Ron if he does anything with her because it’s me, after all, in voice and appearance. Still…”
Tears flowed freely down her face as Martha drove on. She felt terribly guilty about even the slightest thought of wanting to take Alex in her mouth, and she cried, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Sue was using her body to make love to Ron. “I have to figure out how to stop this,” she said out loud as she wiped away the tears. “Sue may not have planned properly to get this whole thing started, but I’m going to make sure I can get back out of it, even if I have to make backup plans for my backup plans!”
Once she was back at Sue’s house, Martha went straight up to her room and started going through Sue’s phone once again and looking through the old spell book. She found a notebook and pen on the desk and began to draft her plans, the supplies she would need for another spell to break the one currently on her, and the risks associated with doing so. Even with perfect intentions, ingredients, and a clear mind, there would still be risks of losing aspects of her personality in Sue’s body and mind. Martha understood this clearly but wanted nothing more than to be back in her husband’s arms and to see her children through her own eyes again.
“I’ve been away from you all for just a day, and I already feel so alone,” Martha cried.
Martha spent several hours going through her notes and reciting the words to the spell over and over again, using Sue’s phone to translate the Latin through multiple apps to make sure she knew exactly what she was saying and how each word should be spoken. By the end of it all, she had nearly filled the entire notebook with her plans. Just as she lay the notebook down on the bed, she heard Sue’s parents come back into the house and call out for her. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to greet them.
Sue’s parents asked her how her day had been and if she had done anything fun, and said they had missed her while they were out and about shopping and enjoying the down. Edward, Sue’s father, gave her a hug and apologized for the argument they’d had the day before. Martha played Sue’s personality as best as she could, acting aloof and accepting Edward’s hug with a feigned half-hearted embrace. She knew the longer she was around Sue’s parents, the greater the risk of exposing herself. Fortunately, the conversation wrapped up, and she was able to go back upstairs with a promise that she’d be back down for dinner later.
Back in Sue’s room, Martha noticed that Sue’s phone was pinging with several notifications. She picked it up and opened the corresponding app to see in real-time the conversation Sue and Valerie were having.
“Oh, this is perfect,” whispered Martha. “She must have signed on through my phone, and it never kicked her out on hers.”
She rushed over to the desk and found a new notebook before settling onto the bed to read what the two girls were talking about and take more notes on anything useful or any thoughts she had about their conversation. By the time Martha needed to go down and have dinner with Sue’s parents, she had modified her plan. In the chaos of the day, she had forgotten that her family was supposed to be leaving for their vacation in just a few days, but she could use that to her advantage. Running downstairs to the kitchen for dinner, Martha couldn’t help but smile. She was going to not only expose Sue and break the spell, but she was going to make sure the girl was not able to cause any more harm to her family moving forward. All Martha needed was a little bit of time.
During Dinner, Martha apologized for being aloof earlier in the afternoon and for the argument that she had started the day before.
“I’m really sorry, Dad,” she said with a quivering lip. “I know I’m not a very good daughter sometimes. I’ve just been so stressed lately because I know I’ll be going to college in a few months, and Jake and I have been talking again…”
Martha trailed off to pretend to wipe away a tear before continuing.
“I know it probably seems so silly, like he and I just keep going back and forth, but he’s just so wonderful. And… and we’ve been talking again, and I can just feel that something is different this time. He invited me to go on his family’s trip to the US Virgin Islands. I know it’s really short notice, but I talked to his mom, Martha, today too, and she really wants me there. She’s so nice and loving, and so is Jake. They even offered to buy me a plane ticket too, which I know couldn’t have been cheap on such short notice. They’re such loving people and…” said Martha, her voice beginning to shake.
Talking about Jake brought back the fear and anxiety of being away from him and the rest of her family, the fear of Sue having free reign of her house, and the feelings of uncertainty that she was in over her head with everything going on.
“I’m sorry,” said Martha. She was no longer acting and let her true sadness show. “I just feel alone without him, and I love him so much. It messes with my head, and I just…”
Sue’s mom came over and hugged Martha, thinking that she was consoling her daughter. Martha held her close and buried her face into Sue’s mother’s shoulder and cried. Although her plan had originally been to put on an act and convince Sue’s parents to let her go on the trip, Martha hadn’t realized just how much she already missed her family and feared for their safety. When her tears had dried and she was able to compose herself, Martha sat back up and apologized to Sue’s parents, laughing to herself as she realized that she didn’t even know their names. Her plan had worked, and Martha got the permission she wanted to go on the trip. Using the excuse of needing to pack, she rushed back upstairs to Sue’s room.
The next phase of her plan was to make sure she could get a plane ticket and find a way to get to the resort once she was on the island. Fortunately, Martha had her credit card information memorized. She searched for available seats and jumped for joy when she found a seat available in economy on the same flight Ron and her family would be on. Now all that was left to do was pack and lay low for the next few days while trying to make attempts to get back to her house and get a hold of Ron. As Martha reflected on a busy and strange day in Sue’s body and tried to relax, energy was peaking for Sue as she continued to exploit Martha’s body.
Ron’s hands swiftly removed the robe that Sue had been wearing and gazed at the gorgeous body of his wife before him, not knowing that it wasn’t truly the woman he loved. Lust burned within him as he pulled Sue back into an increasingly aggressive embrace. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth as she tore at his clothes. Once he was naked, he scooped Sue up and carried her into the bathroom. She wrapped her legs around him and felt his throbbing member pressing against her, desperate to push inside her increasingly receptive pussy.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” panted Ron.
“Is that so?” whispered Sue. “Tell me what you were thinking.
“I was thinking that I was going to repay you for a wonderful start to my day,” replied Ron, gently placing Sue down on the bathroom counter and spreading her legs.
He slowly reached down and nimbly worked both hands over her labia and clitoris before gently sliding a finger into Sue, repeatedly making a “come here” motion as his other hand continued to build pressure and stimulation on her clit. Meanwhile, Sue couldn’t help but moan as Ron used his lips and tongue to continuously tease her nipples and neck. For several minutes, Ron continued his manual stimulation, slowly building a pressure wave of pleasure that continuously threatened to boil over. Smaller waves of pleasure rippled through her from different directions, coming from each point Ron touched. Sue leaned back against the mirror and closed her eyes, savoring the sensations.
“Seems like you’re ready,” said Ron, smiling.
Sue opened her eyes and looked at Ron gripping his cock and gently pressing it against her labia, coating the head of his cock with her pussy’s juices and making it glisten. The sudden realization that she was about to be fucked by Jake’s dad sent a shiver of anxiety and excitement through Sue. She wrapped her legs around Ron and pulled him closer, forcing his cock into her. In Martha’s voice, she cried out, “Oh fuck yes! Oh, fuck me, baby!”
Ron had never heard his wife talk to him like that. Her words supercharged his lust, and he began thrusting into her with tremendous speed. Sue wrapped her legs tighter around him and locked her arms around the back of Ron’s neck. He picked her up from the counter and didn’t miss a beat as he increased his rhythm further yet.
“This. Is. Amazing.” exhaled Sue between thrusts.
She locked her hands together behind Ron’s neck as tight as she could and locked her feet together behind his back, holding on as tightly as she could. Raising herself up before Ron’s next thrust, Sue let herself drop to meet his movement, forcing him into her at a slightly different angle. The resulting change set off all of her pleasure alarms, and she raised herself up again and again to meet each new thrust. The pressure wave of pleasure quickly erupted as Sue came all over Ron’s dick as he continued to fuck her. Involuntarily, all of her muscles tensed, and she tightened herself around Ron’s shaft and dug her nails into his back.
“Cum inside me before you fuck me to death!” exclaimed Sue.
Her words seemed to do the trick as Ron quickly reached his maximum and tensed up as well, pulsing his cock with a new eruption of cum. The two of them stayed locked together for several moments before Ron gently placed Sue back onto the counter and slowly pulled out of her, causing his cum to drip onto the floor. Sue watched with tired yet lustful eyes.
“I thought I may have drained you dry this morning,” she purred.
“I’ll always have more for my goddess,” panted Ron.
He kissed Sue again before starting the shower.
“Are you going to join me?” he said, winking.
“As much as I’d love to, I think I might go lie down for a moment, “whispered Sue. “I need to get the feeling back in my legs.”
“Fair enough,” chuckled Ron. “I love you, honey. So much. You’re the perfect partner and the perfect woman. I don’t tell you that enough.”
Sue was taken off guard by Ron’s sudden change from lust to passion and admiration.
“Oh, thank you. You too,” she replied as she quickly hurried out of the bathroom.
She put her robe back on and went downstairs, sneaking past the living room where Jake and his siblings were watching a movie and into the kitchen. Sue opened the fridge and freezer and browsed through her options before settling on a tub of chocolate ice cream. Scooping herself a generous bowl, she crept back upstairs to the bedroom and sat in bed to watch TV and enjoy her ice cream. After some time, Ron came out of the shower in a towel and moved about the room, taking an inventory of his clothes and making mental notes for packing for the trip. He turned toward Sue to talk to her and noticed the empty bowl of ice cream in her lap.
“Um, honey. Did you eat an entire bowl of ice cream?” asked Ron.
“Yeah, why?” replied Sue as she stared at the TV.
“I guess I must have stopped the blood flow to more than just your legs then,” laughed Ron.
“What do you mean?” asked Sue as she turned toward him.
“Honey, you’re…you’re lactose intolerant, answered Ron flatly.
Sue felt a sharp churning in her stomach. Her eyes widened as a sudden and primal urge to rush to the nearest toilet forced her from the bed and into the bathroom. Not bothering to shut the door behind her, she barely made it to the toilet before the floodgates of hell opened from her backside. She heard Ron roaring with laughter over the torrent before he closed the bathroom door.
“What are you laughing at, Dad?” Jake called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Oh, nothing, just your mother’s misfortune,” Ron called back.
Speaking to Sue through the closed door, he continued, “But seriously, Martha, honey, please let me know if you need anything. If this is anything like last time, you’re probably going to be out of commission for a couple of days. If you need me to, I’ll call the office for you and tell them you need to rest up from being…sick, before we go on our trip.”
Sue cursed to herself and, for the next few hours, even regretted having ever cast the spell in the first place. By the time she was able to walk back out to the bedroom, she was sore and exhausted from the ordeal. Walking over to the nightstand, she saw a large sports drink and a note:
I know you’ll be up a bit tonight. Sleeping on the couch, so the bed is all yours. Drink up, ice cream girl.
Love, Ron.
Too tired to think of any retort to the note, Sue took a few drinks from the bottle before flopping on the bed with only her thoughts of regret and the angry sounds of her intestines to keep her company.
“Wherever Martha is, even if it’s some sort of demonic dimension, can’t be as bad as this,” thought Sue.
Martha lay awake in Sue’s room, her heart racing. A thousand thoughts a minute raced through her mind as she struggled to calm herself down. She began to hyperventilate. Sitting up and clutching a pillow, Martha rocked back and forth as the thoughts continued to move through her head. One stuck out above the others, and Martha’s eyes darted to the spell book that she had placed back on the desk. Summoning all of the energy she could, Martha hopped over to the desk and retrieved the book, darting back to the bad as quickly as she could.
Panting from the anxiety, she clumsily opened the book and began to thumb through the pages, trying to find what she had marked before. When she couldn’t find it, she tossed the book aside and grabbed one of the notebooks she had been putting her thoughts and plans in and flipped through the pages frantically. Finally, she found what she had been looking for, the passage that she had remembered reading earlier in the day. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, she reread her notes:
The spell is a distortion of reality and may create severe anxiety and distress in those impacted by it. - Warnings on page 83.
With the page number in mind, Martha picked up the book once again and flipped through until she arrived on page 83. She read and reread the potential symptoms of the spell, which could be amplified if the spell had not been cast correctly in the first place. Frustrated, Martha through the spell book onto the floor and curled back up in the bed, clutching her pillow.
The next two days passed, with each woman battling their own demons. For Sue, it was the aftershocks of her love for ice cream and the physical pain that came with her inhabited body’s intolerance for dairy. For Martha, it was the twisted mental struggle that came as a byproduct of being the main target of the spell she found herself under. Visions of otherworldly and fantastic beings and events haunted her waking dreams. Neither woman slept well and was only able to keep going due to the thought of the potential salvation that the upcoming vacation might offer. Wednesday morning arrived with both women finding themselves drained and anxious as they boarded their flight for Saint Thomas Island.
Martha took special care to make sure she stayed away from the gate for as long as possible so as to avoid being seen by her family. She didn’t want to spring her trap until the proper moment, Unbeknownst to Martha, Sue had sent her friend, Valerie, to her house the day before to take pictures of the spell book and bring some ingredients to her at Jake’s house. Martha had been out of the house at the time, taking a walk to try to calm herself as the anxiety brought on by the spell wreaked havoc on her mind. Together, Sue and Valerie had performed the spell on Jake’s twin sister, Cheyenne, and done so successfully, or so they thought. Sue had once again managed to mispronounce her Latin, and rather than swapping Valerie and Cheyenne into each other’s bodies, they trapped both of their minds into Cheyenne’s body. The process had put Valerie in command and made Cheyeene a prisoner within her own consciousness.
Valerie’s body was pulled into a void out of space and time, left with small fragments of her former personality but a full capacity for memory. Her family immediately noticed her disappearance, but the initial search ran cold as they came to realize that Valerie had left no trace whatsoever as to where she had gone. All the while, Sue, Martha, and Valerie (at least most of her consciousness) were making their plans for their two-week stay in the US Virgin Islands.
After checking in at the resort, Jake wanted to get out of the room and start exploring to see if anything interesting had changed since last year. His excitement turned to anxiety as he heard his mom’s voice call out for him to wait up so she could go with him. Meanwhile, Jake saw his sister skip off with his dad and younger brother. He noticed something odd about the way Cheyenne was moving and almost clinging to their dad. As he went to call out to them, Sue came up to him in Martha’s body and pulled him into a strong hug. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she winked at Jake before taking his arm and leading him down a walkway in the opposite direction of the rest of his family.
Sue couldn’t help but smile. Everything that she and Valerie had talked about was going according to plan. They had successfully gotten Valerie into Cheyenne’s body, they made it to their destination without being found out, and now they had Jake and Ron separated. The only additional piece to move out of the way now was Jake’s younger brother. However, the girls were confident that they could dump him off at one of the pools for a time to give them a chance to seduce their respective men. Valerie had made Sue describe the sensations of being with Ron in intimate detail during the flight to the island. The story became so descriptive and involved that both of them had to leave at separate times to attempt to relieve their sexual energy in the airplane bathroom. Neither of them was very successful and were now primed and ready for a release, with Sue going after Jake and Cheyenne going after Ron. Valerie had asked about going after Jake at some point during the trip, but Sue would have none of it. As far as she was concerned, Jake was hers alone, and the only reason Valerie was even on the trip was because Sue had offered it to her. In Sue’s mind, Valerie owed her a debt of gratitude.
Jake felt a mix of emotions as he walked with his mom around the resort. He knew something about her seemed off, but he couldn't quite place it. At the same time, he felt a nearly overwhelming urge to touch her, to feel her, and to be intimate in any way possible. Stress clouded his thoughts, and adrenaline rushed through his body. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and run down the side of his face. Sue took notice and pulled Jake off of the walkway and into the nearest building. It was a lounge with several guests and staff milling about. Frustrated, Sue continued to pull Jake through the area and down a hallway until she found an unoccupied bathroom. Pushing Jake in, she followed and locked the door behind them.
Leaning against the counter, Jake tried to catch his breath as he grappled with the feelings and emotions swirling and moving in his mind. Something was wrong. He didn’t feel like himself. He had only ever seen his mother as a loving and nurturing figure, a woman he admired, adored, and loved. But now Jake was feeling increasing pressure from some outside force to view his mother’s body in a new light, a light of sexual desire and pure lust. It was wrong, and Jake knew it, but his strength and ability to fight the pressure were rapidly deteriorating.
Sue was also at a loss for what was happening, but when she caught the outline of a growing bulge in Jake’s shorts, any thoughts she had for caring for him were quickly dispelled as her desire to see him naked took root and spread. She moved toward him and quickly pulled his shorts and boxers down to his ankles, revealing his pulsing member. Moving quickly, Sue pulled the straps of her swimsuit to either side and let the top portion of Martha’s one piece that she was wearing bunch up at her hips. The thought to remove it entirely, along with her swim skirt, crossed her mind, but it was brushed aside. She wanted to taste Jake, to lubricate his cock with her saliva before sliding it between Martha’s beautiful and full breasts. They were much larger than Sue’s, and she wanted to use them to make Jake cum for her.
Jake averted his eyes and looked up at the ceiling as he felt Sue take hold of him with Martha’s hand. As Sue lowered her head to take Jake in her mouth, he suddenly pushed her away. A voice called out in his mind, “That’s not Martha!”
He quickly pulled his shorts back up and ran out of the bathroom and back out to the main courtyard of the resort complex, desperately looking around to find his dad and siblings. Jake kept moving as he was not sure how far away Martha was.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but that was not my mom. It couldn’t have been,” he thought.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw a flash of movement. He turned just as his sister, Cheyenne, ran into him, throwing her arms around him and crying.
“Jake,” she cried. “There’s something in my head! There’s a voice, and it’s…it’s making me want to do things. It made me want to do things to Dad…” She trailed off, burying her face into Jake’s shoulder.
Jake was confused and still felt the urge to keep running, but he stayed still and held his sister for several moments, unable to move. Sue came up behind them in Martha’s body, rage filling her face. The sight of Jake hugging who Sue knew was Valerie infuriated her. Sue opened her mouth to begin screaming at both of them as Martha, in Sue’s body, emerged from behind a stack of pool chairs. She was mumbling under her breath and only raised her voice as Sue and the others took notice of her.
“Et pereant malefici, ad veras formas revertantur omnes animae implicatae!” recited Martha as she blew the ashes of burning sage over all of them. There was a bright flash of light and a sudden rush of wind. Everything seemed to stand still for several moments, and it was as if the onlookers in the area had forgotten what they had just witnessed.
Sue was the first to realize that she was back in her own body. She tackled Martha to the ground and began to hit her wherever she could, scratching at Martha’s face and knocking her head against the concrete. Jake and Cheyenne snapped out of their momentary haze and, in turn, tackled Sue to the ground as a crowd gathered around them. Screaming and cursing, Sue writhed and twisted, but Jake and his sister held her firmly down. Resort staff arrived quickly with security. They helped Martha to her feet and relieved Cheyenne and Jake of Sue, carrying her off as she continued to kick and scream. Although her head was pounding, Martha took Jake and Cheyenne in her arms and hugged them so tightly they had to plead for air. When she relented and released them, Martha could only smile and cry that she was back in her own body and holding those whom she loved so dearly.
Ron arrived shortly after the incident with Jake’s younger brother and had to shoulder his way through the crowd to find Martha. Upon getting to her, he picked her up and held her close saying over and over again,” Please, Martha, tell me it’s really you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
It took Martha several minutes to get her husband to calm down and a few hours more before all of the statements had been collected by local authorities. Nobody in the family revealed the fact that they had been under the influence of a magical spell, but they went along with the narrative that Martha had planned initially. She told the authorities about finding strange charges to her credit card for airfare and local transportation and only realized it had been Sue when she saw her at the resort, stalking her son and her family. That’s when Sue had attacked her. A multitude of bystanders attested to the validity of the attack, saying that Sue had seemed to come out of nowhere, and before anyone knew it, she had Martha on the ground and under a brutal assault.
Several days passed, and Martha and her family took it easy, mostly enjoying each other’s company and assuring one another that everything was fine and that none of them was truly in control of what they were doing while under the spell. By the weekend, Sue’s parents had flown out to get her and travel with her back to the mainland. They had already been interviewed by police back at home several times. Police had confirmed that Sue had used Martha’s credit card information to book her airfare and that she had been messaging her friend Valerie about going to the islands. Valerie had protested and then seemingly disappeared. She turned up, naked and bruised on her front lawn days later after Martha broke the spell. The part of her mind that had been trapped in another dimension and remembered the pain it had experienced. Those memories overpowered what Valerie thought she remembered about her brief time in Cheyenne’s body, and she went along with the story that Sue must have kidnapped her and left her somewhere. She then apparently escaped and found her way back home.
That Saturday night, Jake and his siblings went out to enjoy some fun at the beach with a nighttime volleyball tournament, leaving Martha and Ron in the suite by themselves. They curled up in the bed together, just enjoying each other’s company and the peace of a quiet room without their kids.
“Is your head feeling okay today?” asked Ron as he stroked Martha’s hair.
“Yes, for the hundredth time, I’m fine,” smiled Martha.
“Is there anything that you need, or anything I can do for you?” asked Ron, guilt still in his voice.
Martha propped herself up on her elbow and looked at her husband with a smile. She gently caressed his face and kissed his lips softly.
“You don’t have to feel guilty about anything. We were all struggling with horrible and overwhelming urges. I did and said things that I would never have done otherwise as well.” She kissed Ron again before continuing.
“And now that I’m feeling fully like myself again and recovered from what happened earlier this week, I think I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
Ron perked up. His guilt was replaced with cautious arousal and anticipation. Martha kissed him again, this time gently parting his lips with her tongue, something she had rarely done before. Their kiss deepened, lasting several seconds before Martha pulled away again. She got out of bed and removed her shirt and pajama pants to reveal a black lace bra and thong Sue had packed while she still had control of Martha’s body.
“There was one good thing that came from this whole experience,” Martha whispered seductively.
“And, and what was that?” Ron gulped.
“I told you how I read through that spell book extensively and saw that pieces of personality could slide between those caught in the spell?
Ron nodded.
“It would seem that either a bit of Sue’s libido stayed with me, or I just came to realize how much fun sex could be. So many things to explore.”
Ron’s heart raced as he slowly moved and sat on the edge of the bed, revealing a growing erection. Martha took note and bit her lip before smiling and slowly walking toward the bathroom.
“I was just thinking,” she said as she walked away from Ron, putting extra emphasis on the sway of her hips. “That I might need your help in the shower. You know how I struggle to wash my back very well.”
Martha unfastened her bra and let it fall to the floor. She locked eyes with her husband as she slowly moved her hands up to caress her breasts. Ron removed his shirt to expose his toned chest and core.
“Mmmmmm, I love the way you look, honey,” said Martha. She took her breasts in her hands and sensually massaged them, teasing her nipples with her fingers and savoring the ripples of sensation that radiated from them and through her body.
“You’re a goddess,” smiled Ron as he took off his shorts. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to slowly stroke himself to the sight of his wife.
Martha turned around and slowly bent over as she pulled her thong down to her ankles before standing back up and kicking it across the room. She looked over her shoulder at Ron and stepped into the bathroom, calling out to him.
“I might need your help washing my breasts too, honey. And maybe when you have them all soaped up, I might just slip a little and slide them over that godly cock of yours. I might even let you cum on them, but you have to play with my ass first.”
Ron stopped stroking as Martha finished talking and turned on the water. He twitched, unsure how to interpret her words, and cum began to leak onto his hand. Martha peaked out from the bathroom and smirked. She waltzed over to Ron and knelt in front of him at the edge of the bed.
“And now here you’ve gone and started without me,” she said as she took him fully into her mouth.
Her tongue danced over the head of Ron’s cock as she took him as deep as she could without gagging. She had never given him a blowjob before and wasn’t entirely sure what to do, but Ron seemed to enjoy it despite her inexperience. Within minutes, Ron began to tense up. Martha withdrew from his cock, breathing in deeply. She continued to slowly stroke him, admiring how slick his shaft had become.
“I’m at a loss as to whether I should finish you off right now or keep teasing you,” she said, still stroking her husband.
“Make me cum, and then we can have more fun in the shower before we waste the hot water,” panted Ron.
“Hmmmm,” giggled Martha. She stopped stroking and hopped up to run to the bathroom and turn the water off. “There,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Now we can take our time.”
She sauntered back to Ron, savoring the lustful but agonized look in his eyes. He was aching for release, and she wanted to enjoy herself as she edged him along. Reaching her husband at the edge of the bed, Martha turned around and bent over in front of him, showing off her glistening labia and tight asshole. Backing herself up, Martha began to grind her ass against Ron’s cock, which was still wet from her spit and his precum.
“Now tell me, honey, now that you know I want to try new things in the bedroom, are you excited?” asked Martha as she continued to grind against him.
“Yes,” whispered Ron. He could barely speak as he tried to take everything about the experience in.
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” purred Martha. “You must know that I’m going to make you cum for me several times tonight.”
“I do,” said Ron, groaning as Martha applied more pressure to his cock with her ass.
‘Mmmmm, good,” whispered Martha as she leaned back against her husband. “Now tell me, where do you want to cum first? You have so many…options.”
Martha spoke the last word slowly as she slowly continued to grind against Ron.
“B-breasts. On your breasts…quickly!” said Ron, breathing heavily
Martha swiftly stood up and wrapped her husband's throbbing cock between her breasts and moved up and down, stroking Ron as she applied pressure from the sides. Looking down, Martha giggled at the head of Ron’s cock popping in and out from between her breasts. Lowering her head, she took him in her mouth as well, once again teasing his head with her tongue.
“I’m cumming!” exclaimed Ron.
Martha quickly pull him out of her mouth and lowered herself so that her backside rested on her heels. Ron stood up fully as Martha stroked him through his orgasm, shooting streaks of cum across her chest and neck. A stray shot even hit her in her open mouth as she gasped at her handiwork. In the excitement of tasting Ron’s cum for the first time, Martha took him back into her mouth and continued to suck and stroke him until the last drops of his cum were sliding down her throat.
Standing up, Martha took Ron’s hand and led him back into the bathroom. She turned the water back on and then turned to face her husband.
“You made a mess, so now you have to clean me up,” she giggled. “Take your time, though, and maybe tease my ass a little. I might want you to cum there, too, a little later this week.”
Blood flowed back into Ron’s cock at his wife’s words, and he knew he was ready for another round.
Jake was out enjoying a Saturday at the mall with his friends. They were enjoying the excitement and energy that comes with enjoying a final summer together before they all went their separate ways for college and other plans in the fall. He felt a need to spend as much time as he could with his friends to make up for time lost during high school when Jake was dating Sue, his on and off again girlfriend with a controlling personality, great looks, less-than-average common sense, and a general lack of critical thinking skills. That was at least the polite description that Jake had come up with in his head to describe Sue. He wasn’t going to let her take another summer away from him, especially not after how she stood him up at their senior prom just two months prior.
After walking around the mall for a couple of hours and spending a fair bit of time at the arcade, Jake and his friends settled down at a table in the food court to take a break and figure out what they were going to have for lunch. The conversation soon shifted from food to talking about Jake’s mom, Martha. The guys had always given Jake a hard time about his mom and how hot she was.
“Jake, quick question,” said Alex. “If I paid 100 dollars, could you swipe a couple of pairs of your mom’s underwear for me?”
“You know, with the way you guys obsess over my mom, I can never tell if you’re kidding or not. Also, no. She’s my mom, and I will not do that for any amount of money,” replied Jake.
“Ok, fine,” Alex continued. “But can you at least tell me what kind of underwear she’s wearing? Such as the kind she might wear with a long dress with sunflowers on it?
“That is an almost creepily specific request,” laughed Jake.
‘Well,” answered Alex. “I ask because…”
Jake turned to follow Alex’s gaze to see his mom, Martha, walking over to their table. She smiled and waved at the group, stopping behind Jake and resting her hands on his shoulders with a slight squeeze.
“Hi, Mom,” said Jake, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I didn't realize you’d be here today. Where is Dad and everyone else?”
“Oh, he’s around here somewhere trying to find us a table and something to eat. You know how he gets. Has to have the perfect table. He’s an odd man, but I love him dearly, just like I love my little Jakey wakey baby boy!”
Martha leaned down, wrapped her arms around Jake, and planted a loud, wet kiss on his cheek. When she did, Alex and the others on the opposite side of the table caught a glimpse of Martha’s well-endowed breasts, struggling against her bra as her dress flapped from the quick motion. Jake made a show of trying to push her away to get Martha to stop embarrassing him in front of his friends. In reality, however, he appreciated her attention and care. His mom was a loving person, well-known and highly regarded in the community, a woman of stunning beauty but modest appetite for attention. She loved her three children more than anything in the world.
“Ok, that’s enough, mom. Thank you,” said Jake as he gently pushed at his mother. “You can go and embarrass your other children now.”
Matha laughed and gave Jake another hug from behind, unknowingly squishing her breasts against the top of his head and giving his friends an unprecedented view of her cleavage. She was a modest woman with the body of a goddess, and everyone in her vicinity who was attracted to the feminine form found themselves wanting for more as she walked by. But Martha had no desire to show off her body and only ever wanted to make love to her husband, not fuck, bang, or experiment. She was happy with her modest and relatively vanilla life, and that is what made those around her desire her all the more.
“Well,” said Martha as she stepped back from the table. “I should let you boys get back to your fun-filled day. I’m sure you have a lot planned for this summer before you’re all off to college, so make the most of it, and please stop by before the summer is over so we can all say goodbye and wish you luck before you go.”
Jake’s friends could only nod and mumble, still transfixed by the previous sight of Martha’s chest. As she walked away to find her husband, the boys’ eyes followed the sway of her hips outlined by her summer dress. They were all startled and attempted to avert their gaze as Martha abruptly stopped and returned to the table.
“One more thing, Jake,” she said as she again wrapped her arms around her son. “You’re dad, and I are getting some things for vacation coming up. Text me before you leave the mall today, and let me know if there is anything you need us to get. We’ll be out and about yet this afternoon with some more shopping.”
Jake just nodded and smiled at his mom, laughing as his friends practically drooled over the table as they stared at Martha. Finally, shaking himself out of his trance, Alex asked Martha what she had been shopping for already in preparation for the family’s annual trip to the US Virgin Islands. When Martha just listed off some basic items like towels and sunscreen, Alex suggested that she check out LustiLadi if she wanted a new swimsuit.
Martha smiled and replied to Alex, saying, “Thank you, Alex. I’ve never heard of that brand, but I’ll be sure to try something on of theirs before I leave the mall today. You all seem very enthusiastic about their products. They must be quite popular.”
The boys lost themselves in daydreams of Martha’s beautiful body in a skimpy swimsuit, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Jake took the opportunity to stand up, hug his mom, and walk her away from the table before one of the other guys said anything else. He sent his mom off to enjoy the rest of her shopping. Then he returned to the table to rouse his friends from their erotic daydreams of his mother in a bikini, or their wishes of a sudden gust of wind to raise her dress to reveal her voluptuous backside outlined under her dress.
Eventually, Jake and his friends wrap up their lunch in the food court and head toward the exit of the mall to find something else to do to spend their afternoon. On the way out, Sue seemingly materializes out of nowhere to stop them from going through the door and heading outside. They all stared at each other for several moments before Jake told the others to head out and start the car and that he would be right there. Alex rolled his eyes and led the others around Sue and out the doors, mumbling, “She’s gonna reel him back in and fuck up the whole summer again.”
None of them liked Sue. She and Jake had dated on and off through high school, and she never wanted to commit to him. Her affection toward Jake only flared up when he seemed to be getting eyes for someone else. At that point, Sue would swoop in and steal Jake back and away from his friends.
Jake had come to recognize this pattern with the help of his friends, and this time he felt ready to keep Sue out of his life. In some ways, he had been waiting for this moment to tell her off and to finally reveal to her that she was the reason he was going to college out of state. He had assumed she would find out eventually and wanted to try to talk him out of it and again be in control of his life. They remained silent for several more moments before Sue finally spoke.
“I had thought and hoped you’d be going to school around here in the fall. A voice in my head has been telling me that we could try again and make this thing work as college sweethearts,” she said as she stepped toward Jake.
Jake didn’t initially respond. He stood still and waited for her to keep going. He knew what she would try to do, and he wanted to wait to tell her off to maximize her embarrassment and his satisfaction. Frustration began to boil up inside Sue. In previous attempts to get Jake’s attention, it was usually enough just to show up and say some sweet things, and he’d come crawling back to her. She stepped closer to him and put on a coy smile, desperate to keep Jake with her over the summer and into the fall.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” she said as she placed a hand on his chest. “I was thinking we could maybe head up to the lake this afternoon and talk. I got something from LustiLadi today that I want to show you.”
Sue held up a bag and opened it slightly to reveal a collection of micro bikinis and a box of condoms. Jake laughed to himself and pushed past her saying, “Lucky for me, I started listening to my friends these last few months after you stood me up at the prom. Have a good summer, Sue.”
That was all he had to say. Jake brushed passed Sue and jogged through the parking lot to catch up with his friends. The guys were happy to see Jake and greeted him with a chorus of cheers when he told them what Sue had tried and how he had responded. They headed out with plans to make the most of the afternoon and the rest of their summer. Meanwhile, Sue pouted and sulked around the mall before a revelation struck her, and she rushed home. She ran up to the attic and began tearing through box after box of her late grandmother’s belongings. With each box turning up little more than old clothes, Sue grew increasingly frustrated.
“Where is it, you old hag?” she spat, tearing through yet another box. “ I swear if you got rid of that spellbook or took it to your grave, I’ll dig up your bones and desecrate them.”
No sooner had she finished her sentence than a large thud erupted from the floor. An old, black book had fallen out of the box she was going through and onto the floor. Slowly, Sue knelt down and picked up the book, cradling it as she would a newborn child. She slowly walked back down to her room, where she closed and locked the door. Jake was going to be hers, whether it was by his own will or not.
Sue flipped through the book until she found a spell that sounded promising, one that would make her the closest person to Jake and his strongest feelings of love. She began the spell, gathering the required herbs and tokens, including some of her own hair that she collected from the shirt she’d been wearing that day. Unbeknownst to Sue, some of the hair was not hers but Martha’s. It had come off on Jake when Martha hugged him in the food court and then from Jake to Sue when he pushed past her at the mall exit. That, combined with Sue’s rudimentary understanding of Latin, ensured the spell would never go off as she had intended.
The next day, Sue woke up feeling groggy and almost hungover. She rolled out of bed and shuffled toward the bathroom, only to find she had walked into a closet. “Stayed up too late with that damn spell,” she mumbled.
Frustrated and still half asleep, she shuffled out of the closet, not noticing it wasn’t hers to begin with. Once in the bathroom, she sat down to pee and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Progress was slow, and she still felt out of sorts as she finished on the toilet and shuffled over to the sink to wash her hands and face. When she finally looked into the mirror, she screamed as she saw Martha’s face staring back at her.
She reached up with shaking hands, touched her face, and pulled at her hair, feeling the pressure and sensations.
“Who…what…how… THE SPELL!” she exclaimed.
Jake’s dad, Ron, came running into the bathroom.
“Martha, sweetie, what’s wrong?!?” he asked frantically.
He ran over and put his arms around who he thought was his wife and held her close.
“What happened?” he asked as he stroked Martha’s head.
Sue panicked at first but quickly gained her composure. The adrenaline of the initial shock was wearing off, and she could now think more clearly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry…um…you…sweet husband man,” Sue stammered in Martha’s voice.
“Ron. Honey. My name is Ron. Did you hit your head or something?” said Jake’s dad, growing concern in his eyes. He loved his wife dearly and the life they had built together. While at times he wished she was a little more outgoing and adventurous, he still adored her and the stability their relationship had.
Sue kept trying to rack her brain for memories of Jake’s dad as she spoke. “I had the worst dreams last night, and when I came into the bathroom, I was still half asleep. I could have sworn I saw someone else in the mirror,” said Sue. “Thank you for being so protective of me.”
She hugged Ron and had a sudden thought about seeing him and Jake out on the boat together the previous summer when she had joined the family on a weekend camping trip. Sensations of pleasure and arousal pulsed through her. Sue had always thought that both Jake and his dad were very attractive. They both had athletic builds and spent a great deal of time at the athletic center, where Ron was a fitness instructor and swim coach. Where it would have been taboo for a nineteen-year-old to pursue a middle-aged man, Sue realized she could get away with anything she wanted. She could have Ron anytime she liked, and Jake was just down the hall, at least for the summer.
“Oh, dear, I sometimes forget just how strong you are,” purred Sue as she ran her hands over Ron. “I bet you could pick me up right now without issue and fuck this milf pussy right here on the bathroom counter.”
Ron was stunned. Never in the twenty years that he and Martha had been married had she ever spoken to him like that. They certainly had good and satisfying sex, but it was always an act of passion and love and never born of lust and intensity. He looked into Martha’s eyes and was confused when he saw a spark and energy he had never noticed before. The usual loving and nurturing look her eyes carried had been replaced with fiery, lustful energy. It was enthralling, intoxicating, and more than enough to overwhelm any voice of warning or logic in his mind. Seeming to work of their own accord, Ron’s hands swiftly removed Martha’s clothes before cupping her ass and hoisting her up to the counter.
Sue couldn’t help but smile and laugh to herself as Ron’s hands raced over her in Martha’s body. She pulled his shirt off to reveal his chiseled form as she deftly pulled his athletic shorts down using her feet in one swift motion. Ron’s erection popped up and down from the momentum.
“Wow,” mouthed Sue through Martha. Her eyes followed the motion of Ron’s member before moving up to meet his eyes. When he tried to move forward into her, she stopped him with her foot and coyly pushed him back into the wall with her foot as her hand moved down toward her abdomen. Ron’s eyes followed her hand and never wavered as Sue began playing with herself.
“I have to get things a little warmed up for that big cock of yours, baby, cooed Sue as she intensified the motion of her fingers. She could see precum dripping from Ron. When he tried to touch himself, she slapped his hand with her other foot and shook her finger at him.
“Let that pressure keep building, whispered Sue through Martha. You’re going to explode inside of me and fill me with your cum, but not until I let you.”
Sue continued to tease herself, building momentum and tension. Meanwhile, Ron could only look at his wife’s perfect form on display before him in a way he had only ever dreamed of. It was all too much for him. The powerful sensation of an unstoppable orgasm had already been building and passed its point of no return faster than Ron could react. Cum erupted from his cock. He leaned forward and furiously stroked himself and continued to spray cum onto who he thought was his wife, covering her stomach, breasts, and face.
“Oh yes, cum for me, baby! cried Sue through Martha. “Give it all to me!”
Ron fell back against the wall, his erection still firm and twitching. Sue hopped from the counter, dripping cum as she went, and began kissing Ron while stroking him through his post-orgasm sensitivity. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth, again catching him off guard. Never before had his wife been interested in sex of this caliber. The excitement of it all was almost too much to bear, and he began to wonder what could have happened to change her behavior so drastically. But his questioning was short-lived as Sue stroked him ever faster, her hand slipping nimbly over his cum coated erection.
“Dad,” called Jake from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you up there? I’m ready to go to the gym.”
Ron tried to get Sue to stop as he answered Jake, but she continued to stroke him furiously, spurred on by the sound of Jake’s voice.
“Be down …in a minute…just.. in the bathroom…oooohhhhh,” Ron grunted as his voice trailed off. Sue finally released her grip on Ron as he came again, spilling his load onto her legs and the floor.
“Okay,” said Jake slowly. “Don’t want to know what you’re doing up there, but maybe leave the door open when you’re done in the bathroom to air it out for Mom.”
Ron sighed before slumping down to the floor. Sue admired her handiwork through Martha’s eyes before walking over and grabbing a towel from the rack next to the shower. She looked over her shoulder at Ron before slowly and sensually bending over to wipe off her legs. Then, she turned and cleaned her stomach, chest, and face, before passing the towel to him as she stood at the counter to wash her face and get ready for the day. All the while, Martha’s supple ass was inches from Ron’s face.
He could feel the lust building up again but knew he needed to get down to Jake. Against his basal desires, Ron stood up and pressed himself against his wife, wrapping his arms around her and cupping her breasts as he pressed his newly erect penis gently against her ass. Kissing her neck slowly, he said, “I’ll have something more for you later tonight.”
Then he got dressed and left with Jake to go to the gym. Jake’s siblings were also out of the house for the day, enjoying the beautiful summer Sunday with their friends. Sue enjoyed having the house to herself and spent the better part of the morning in a bath before getting dressed and snooping around the house. She did so while wearing a tight tank top with no bra and a short skirt she had found in Jake’s sister’s room after deciding that Martha’s taste in clothing was not her style. Eventually, Sue made her way into Jake’s room and searched about for anything that might indicate he was talking to or interested in another girl. When she found nothing exciting, she put on his wireless headphones and lost herself dancing to music in the middle of his room.
Before long, Jake returned home, having left his dad at the gym to teach a class where the usual instructor had called out sick. Jake walked into his room and stopped dead at the sight of his mother dancing like a young woman at amateur night in a club, trying to show the crowd that she was the next big thing. Her shirt failed at times to completely contain Martha’s large breasts, and the skirt rode up, exposing her bare ass any time she bent down during her dance. He called out to her more than once, trying to ask what the hell she was doing, but the dance continued. Finally, Jake stepped forward and pulled the headphones off his mother’s head.
Sue turned around, startled, and gazed at Jake through Martha’s eyes. A well of passion and lust welled within her as memories of Jake’s dad flooded her mind. That, coupled with the lack of release earlier in the bathroom with Jake’s dad, had Sue hungry for more. She eyed Jake with hungry, lustful eyes, admiring his toned frame that lay partially hidden beneath his sweaty clothes. As Sue stepped toward Jake in Martha’s body, he stepped back until he was against the wall.
Jake’s heart pounded as a mix of adrenaline, lust, and fear surged through him. Something was deeply wrong with the situation, and he knew it didn’t make sense. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel physically attracted to the woman standing before him, his mother. His gym shorts did little to hide how his body was reacting to the situation, and it only became more evident as Sue took his hand and guided it under her skirt. He shivered at the touch. It was hot and dripping wet. The temptation to push further in nearly overwhelmed Jake just as his cell phone started to ring. His ringtone snapped Jake back to reality, and he pushed past Sue and ran back downstairs to take his call.
Sue went after him but stopped at the bottom of the stairs to look out the front window at Alex walking up the sidewalk to the house. He saw who he thought was Martha and waved at her before coming up and knocking on the door. Opening the door, Sue smiled at Alex and made a point to drive Alex’s focus toward Martha’s breasts. She knew Alex didn’t like her, and she was determined to get some sort of revenge on him.
“Hey Martha, um. Is, uh. Is Jake home?” stammered Alex as he tried to keep his eyes on Martha’s.
“He is home, but he’s a bit busy at the moment. Did you two have some plans this afternoon?”
“Um, not really,” said Alex, his eyes again dropping to Martha’s breasts. “I just wanted to see if he wanted to hang out since you guys are leaving for your trip in a few days.”
Sue had forgotten all about Jake’s family’s annual trip to the Caribbean. A malicious smile crossed her face as she thought through her options and what she would be able to do on the trip. Finally, she turned her attention back to Alex, who waited awkwardly on the front steps.
“I’m sorry dear, but Jake won’t be free tonight. We’ve still got quite a bit of packing to do,” said Sue through Maratha. “I know that must be disappointing. So, to make it up to you, would you like me to show you my tits? I can see they have your attention already.”
Alex stared at her in astonishment before blurting, “YES!”
Sue laughed hysterically as she shouted, “No!” and slammed the door in Alex’s face before retreating back upstairs to plan her next move. She spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hiding out in Martha’s bedroom, listening to music and messaging her friend Valerie on an instant messaging app she had downloaded on Martha’s phone, which was not password protected but used a fingerprint sensor.
Sue: Valerie, do you remember how I told you how weird my grandma was and how she was always talking nonsense and bullshit and cooking bizarre stuff in her creepy shed?
Valerie: Yeah. I always assumed that was code for drugs or something, like she was making meth.
Sue: No, that bitch was a witch!
Valerie: Now I’m thinking that you’re the one doing drugs.
Sue: Val, seriously. She brewed potions and cast spells, and she wrote her own book with everything that she knew, and I have it. My parents had stashed it away in the attic with a bunch of her other stuff that they took from her house after she died. I used the book, and I did something big.
Valerie: Ok. I’ll play along. What did you do that is so big?
Sue: Well, if we’re talking about big things that I did, I made Jake’s dad cum all over me by hardly touching him at all.
Valerie: WTF
Valerie: GTFO
Valerie: Seriously, what?!? What did you do? Is he big? He’s so fucking hot. God! I’d scream and cream for that Dad D.
Sue: I see that I have your attention now. I cast a spell, and I took over Martha’s body—Jake’s mom.
Valerie: I’m sorry. What?
Sue: If you don’t believe me. Look at this video.
Sue attached a video of herself talking through Martha and told Valerie the intricate details of every secret conversation they had ever had with one another.
Valerie: Holy shit. This is unbelievable.
Sue: Girl, It’s fucking amazing. You have to try this. I bet we can get you in on this with someone else in the family, like Jake’s twin sister, and then we can go on this trip in a few days. They go to the Virgin Islands every Summer. Leaving on Wednesday.
Valerie: Idk, sounds pretty crazy. What if we’re caught?
Sue: Not gonna happen. This whole thing is foolproof.
Valerie: I guess it could be fun. Jake’s dad is pretty hot. How and when would we do it, though? And what are you going to do tomorrow and Tuesday before leaving for the trip? Doesn’t Jake's mom like work at that big insurance office?
Sue: Wait…work? Oh shit.
Valerie: And what happened to Martha? Is she like dead now or something? How do we reverse the spell when we’re done with this?
Sue: I have it all figured out. There’s just another little spell we do to undo the spell when we’re ready. As for Martha, I don’t really care where she is. Probably in some sort of dimensional rift. Not my problem. I have to go. Jake’s dad is home, and I’m going to go help him in the shower after he spent all day getting hot and sweaty in the gym. Think about his naked body covered with soap, his muscles glistening in the water, and use that as your motivation to do this with me. Just think, two weeks' vacation with him on a beach where he will hardly ever be wearing a shirt. Might even get some chances to fuck him. Just saying, if you were serious about that scream and cream bit. ;)
Sue left Valerie to think about Ron and his toned body and hurried to the doorway of the bedroom to call out for Ron to come upstairs to help her with something. She was determined to feel him inside her this time. As he made his way up the stairs, Ron felt the same powerful urges of lust bubbling up inside him. He knew his wife was waiting for him, and he had to have her in every way possible. But it was not his wife for whom he lusted. A voice in the back of his head tried to tell him something was wrong, but it was drowned out as he walked into the bedroom to see Sue in Martha’s body, waiting for him in nothing but a short bathrobe Sue had taken from Jake’s sister’s room. The voice of caution and reason faded away as he took Sue in his arms and began kissing her.
On the other side of town that same morning, Martha awoke in a strange room she didn’t recognize. Her breathing rapidly increased when she looked at herself in the large vanity mirror in the corner of the room. As she worked to slow her breathing to keep from passing out, Martha’s thoughts raced and puzzled over what was happening.
“Am I still asleep?” she thought. “Was I drugged? Where was I last? What did I eat? Where is Ron? Oh, Ron!”
Martha collapsed to the floor in Sue’s body and cried. Several minutes passed before she was able to regain her composure. As her sobs faded away, an eerie calm came over the room. The sudden buzz of a cell phone on the nightstand startled Martha from her solemn state. Feeling on edge and unsure, she slowly edged toward the phone and picked it up, and was surprised when it unlocked with her fingerprint. “I need to figure out what is going on. I know that I’m Martha, but I’m not… I’m...Oh, this is so confusing and overwhelming…”
Martha’s internal monologue stopped as she came to a haunting realization as she pulled up different social media accounts on the phone. She slowly stood up and set the phone back on the nightstand before returning to the mirror.
“Sue,” she whispered. “I recognize the face now. Oh Susan, you wretched child, what have you done?”
Feeling her calm increasing, Martha walked back over to the nightstand and sat back on the bed to dive into any and all information she could pull from the device. She knew that Sue was a very social individual and talked to a lot of people. Martha was confident that she could find more information on what had happened and how she might be able to fix what had happened.
After gathering all of the information about Sue through her social media accounts, Martha decided to check through her texts as well, thinking she may have talked to someone about what she did to switch their bodies or do whatever it was that she did. Sue’s texts were full of conversations with different guys she had gone to school with and guys from around town. Every conversation was a different level of sexting full of lewd photos and language Martha had rarely encountered and certainly never used. Certainly, she enjoyed being aroused and making love with her husband, but there was something untamed about these messages. There was little to no emotion associated with the exchanges, just pure, undiluted lust. She was surprised and moderately impressed with how Sue was able to get just about anything she wanted, and all she had to do was make sexual promises she never actually seemed to keep and send some photos of herself.
As Martha continued to read through the messages, her venture became less about finding information about Sue and what she had done to Martha and more about a morbid curiosity about sexual escapades she had never considered. A tingling sensation grew in Martha’s stomach, like a thousand writhing butterflies. The sensation spread lower, and she began to feel flushed and excited as her heart rate increased.
“No,” she thought as she looked through more pictures these men were sending to Sue. “I need to be looking around for information. I should get ready, trying going home, talking to Ron and explain what’s going on.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Martha put the phone done and continued to look through the room. Looking under Sue’s bed, she saw a box. Pulling it out, Martha was greeted by an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and other sex toys. She stared at them for several moments, feeling the tingling sensation return, stronger than before. Shivering with a mix of excitement and anticipation, Martha slowly reached toward the box but stopped when something caught her attention in her peripheral vision. Turning her head, Martha looked toward the desk. Underneath it was a large, weathered black book that looked very out of place. The tingling sensation ebbed away as she crawled over to the book and began to look through it.
Page after page revealed potions and spells to treat any ailment or concern a person could have. Martha’s eyes darted from word to word until they froze on a particular passage that described the spell Sue had performed. Martha read and reread the passage and the warnings associated with the spell.
“That little monster,” Martha said to herself. “Now that I know what you’ve done, I can confront you and fix this mess before something terrible happens. But first…”
Martha looked back toward the box on the floor next to the bed. The tingling returned in full force, and she passed the point of no return. She needed a release and would have it one way or another. Positioning herself on the bed with one of the toys in hand, Martha removed the clothes she had woken up in and began to tease herself. She had never done much, if anything, to pleasure herself, but her hands and body seemed to know what felt best. The toy she had selected had initially seemed odd and complicated, with multiple attachments Martha wasn’t entirely sure how to use. But the size and shape of the main shaft of the toy seemed to closely resemble her husband’s cock, and that’s all Martha was able to see. She looked at the toy, and she just saw Ron in her mind, leaning over her as he spread her legs and slid into her.
As the thought of Ron penetrating her crossed her mind, Martha slid the main shaft of the toy into her pussy, slowly and deliberately. The sensation sent shivers through her body as she continued to slowly slide the toy in and out, increasing the depth and speed each time. Within thirty seconds, her rhythm was quick and consistent. Martha looked down and admired the sight of the toy glistening with her body’s own lubrication. She noticed buttons on the side of the toy and haphazardly began to push them, desperate to increase the sensation she was feeling.
The first button started the toy’s main vibrating function, causing Martha to squeal slightly as a new sensation of pleasure began building and spilling over. Another button activated one of the attachments, which lowered itself onto Martha’s protruding clitoris and caressed it as a lover’s tongue might.
“Mmphff,” exhaled Martha through Sue’s voice. “Oh, Ron, why haven’t I ever asked you to use your tongue on me? Oh, this feels amazing. Oh, Ron! Oh, Honey, YES!”
Waves of pleasure built and crashed over Martha. She closed her eyes as they rolled back, and the sensations washed over her, making her shiver with delight and craving more. The pleasure she felt was building, and Martha was determined to reach a climax. Her right hand continued to push buttons on the toy as her left moved up to caress her breasts and tease her nipples. She wondered if the strength of the sensations was simply because she was in Sue’s body or if she had just never thought to explore all of the feelings and sensations that sex had to offer. Her thoughts were cut short, however, as she pressed a button that activated another attachment on the toy that began to tease and explore her asshole.
“Oh no! That’s not…” started Martha. “Not…so bad.”
The anal attachment slowly continued to caress and tease her, probing her and adding to the overall feeling of excitement. Martha repositioned herself and spread her legs a little further to allow better access for the toy. It almost seemed to sense what she was doing and probed a little deeper still. She continued to fuck her pussy and clit with the other attachments, adding to the continuous stream of juices that ran down over her asshole as the third attachment continued to probe deeper still, its speed increasing until it was fucking Martha’s ass at the same pace with which she was fucking her pussy.
A sudden feeling of panic surged through Martha just as her climax was building. What if she wasn’t alone in the house? But the feeling faded as fast as it came as the waves of pleasure increased in frequency and intensity. Martha was going to let this orgasm live if it was the last thing she did.
“Oh, Ron, YES! MAKE ME CUM FOR YOU, HONEY!”
Martha couldn’t help but scream for her husband as she reached her peak. An involuntary series of moans escaped her lips as she continued driving the toy into herself. A growing wet spot had formed on the blankets underneath her, and she was sweating profusely. Her arms burned and cried for respite, but still, she kept her rhythm through the strongest waves of blissful sensation that pulsed through her whole body. She clenched hard against the motion of the toy, arching her back as her pace finally began to slow down. Martha shivered and squirmed from overstimulation as she fumbled to turn the toy off completely. Even though she was no longer thrusting it into her pussy, the attachments continued to work her ass and clit, threatening to drive her crazy. At this point, she was overly sensitive, and each new pulse of the toy nearly sent her over the edge again. Finally, she managed to power everything down and relaxed into the soft bed, the toy still inside her.
A euphoric calm came over Martha. Her mind was filled with blissful thoughts, wisping in and out of existence. Her muscles also felt a sense of release and calm, as if she had just finished a relaxing massage.
“Oh, Ron, when I get back home and am myself again, I think I might finally be ready to try some new things in the bedroom,” Martha whispered to herself. “I don’t know how much of that was me and how much was that little monster, Sue, but I don’t think I can come back from it. The feeling was too amazing, too strong, too sensual to ignore.”
Martha slowly and carefully slid the toy out and dropped it onto the floor with a dull thud. Her hand reached down and touched the bed beneath her and felt the magnitude of the wet spot she had created. She giggled to herself before slowly getting out of the bed, still feeling tender and sensitive.
“I am going to clean this mess up and then have a shower,” thought Martha. “After that, we’re going to take this book, confront Sue, and get this whole mess sorted out.”
Martha took her shower and changed the bedding, all the while thinking to herself that it probably wasn’t the first time something like that had been done in that bed. She felt more confident overall in Sue’s body after having explored herself and opted to wear a short skirt and a tank top. In searching all over the room, she couldn’t find a clean pair of underwear.
“Oh dear,” thought Martha.
She knew that even though the dirty underwear belonged to Sue and was probably safe to wear, she wasn’t comfortable with the prospect of wearing her soiled panties. However, the only other alternative seemed to be to go without entirely.
“Well, I guess I’ll just feel the breeze a little more today,” said Martha as she left the house. She hadn’t run into Sue’s parents, and for that, she was grateful. Suspecting they were off at work or out enjoying the day. Whatever the case was, she was happy they hadn’t seemed to be around when she had been masturbating and that she had some additional time to look around the house. In doing so, she found Sue’s purse with her wallet and car keys. Feeling ready for a confrontation, she stepped outside and looked around to get her bearings on where exactly in town she was. Having grown up and lived in the area all her life, it took Martha just a few seconds to plot a good route to her house and think of a place where she could park the car out of the direct line of sight of her family.
As she drove, Martha rehearsed what she was going to say to Ron and her kids. A short-lived feeling of dread made its way through her mind as she thought about the damage Sue could be doing to her family while masquerading in Martha’s body. She shuddered at the thought and pushed it from her mind, refocusing on different ways the conversation with Ron might go. “He’ll know it’s me,” she thought. “He has to.”
Martha arrived at her predetermined spot and parked the car before walking back toward her house, trying to stay off the street as much as possible and not draw attention to herself. She weaved through backyards and an alley for a few minutes before coming within line of sight of her front door. She saw Jake’s friend Alex walking up to the house and contemplated calling out to him before reasoning that doing so would only cause more issues at the present moment. Instead, she stayed out of sight, using some trees and bushes in the neighbor’s yard as cover, and moved closer to the house. Peering through the bushes, Martha could see the front door and only look on in horror as she saw Sue in her body open it to greet Alex. Every second that Martha looked at Sue in her body, every word that Sue spoke in Martha’s voice made her gut churn. When Sue slammed the door in Alex’s face, Martha knew that she had to do something, but what?
She began to think that a direct confrontation would be a bad idea. Moreover, she noticed that Ron’s car was gone and reasoned that he and Jake were probably at the gym.
“Stop,” Martha said louder than she anticipated. She had only meant to say it to herself.
She covered her mouth and held her breath as Alex stopped walking back toward his car to look around. He looked in her direction and slowly walked over to the bushes. Martha began to panic. She hadn’t planned on having to confront Jake’s friends about all of this, nor had she given any thought to what to say should the situation arise. Alex came around the bushes and stared at her.
“My god, woman,” exclaimed Alex. “Why can you not take no for an answer? How many times do we have to tell you to stay the hell away from Jake? He even told you himself just yesterday to stay out of his life. Give me one good reason not to call the cops on you right now.”
Without thinking, Martha blurted in Sue’s voice, “I’ll suck your dick if you keep your mouth shut!”
She was just as shocked by those words as Alex was. She had not planned on saying that. It had just come out. Martha’s mind raced back to the information she had read in the spell book and even contemplated getting it from the car to show Alex what was going on. There were passages and warnings after the directions for the spell that explained potential hazards and side effects.
The book said that in the event that the spell causes two people to switch bodies, aspects of personality from the original person may still be present. Additionally, the individual who casts the spell can further alter the effects based on their mood and state of mind when the spell was originally performed. In extreme cases, the emotion felt when the spell was cast could even create an influencing aura that affected not only those directly involved with the spell but those they interacted with afterward as well.
While Alex still stood, mouth agape and staring at her, Martha tried to salvage the situation and fight the lustful feelings building up within her.
“No,” she thought. “I can’t let Sue’s libido and pent-up sexual desires control me. I have to be stronger than this magic.”
Martha’s eyes locked with Alex’s gaze. A storm of mixed emotions of fear, arousal, excitement, and anxiety swirled in her mind as the tingling sensation she had felt earlier in the morning returned. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush, and she felt an increased wetness between her thighs. Sexual anticipation charged the air between her and Alex. She stepped toward him.
“No, I can’t!” she screamed in her head. She took another step forward.
“This is Jake’s best friend, and I’ve known him since he was a baby!” she again shouted in her mind. She was just a foot away from Alex, who was still fixed in place, seemingly in shock.
Martha stopped just as she pressed up against Alex with Sue’s body, her hands on the waistband of his shorts. Primal desire told her to rip off his shorts and take his cock in her mouth until he came over and over again. Visions of his cum filling her mouth and covering her face danced through Martha’s mind, and the desire to make them a reality was almost overwhelming. But a voice called out from the confines of her consciousness and told her to stop, that they would be seen, and being arrested for sexual acts in a public setting would not help her get back to her family. The feelings of sexual desire subsided somewhat. Martha looked at Alex through Sue’s eyes.
“Or maybe just the thought of your cock in my mouth is enough to buy your silence?” she purred as she playfully bit at his ear.
She looked down to see a large bulge in Alex’s shorts and a wet spot forming as he leaked precum for her. It took all of Martha’s willpower to keep from grabbing hold of his cock and stroking it until he came for her.
“I think I have your attention now, huh?” she continued as she ran her hands over Alex’s chest. “Why don’t you head on home now and rub one out while you think about my lips around your dick.”
Alex shivered, and the wet spot on his shorts grew a little larger. “Okay,” he whispered as she awkwardly turned and walked back toward his car.
Martha breathed a sigh of relief and decided that she would head back to Sue’s house to make another plan. As much as she wanted to go and confront Sue, she knew she needed to have some sort of backup plan and a means to convince Ron and her family of what was happening. As she drove, her mind wandered to what she had seen Sue wearing when she answered the door, and the feelings of despair returned.
“If this spell is making me overly sexually charged, I can’t imagine what Sue is doing in my body,” thought Martha. “I don’t want to be angry with Ron if he does anything with her because it’s me, after all, in voice and appearance. Still…”
Tears flowed freely down her face as Martha drove on. She felt terribly guilty about even the slightest thought of wanting to take Alex in her mouth, and she cried, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Sue was using her body to make love to Ron. “I have to figure out how to stop this,” she said out loud as she wiped away the tears. “Sue may not have planned properly to get this whole thing started, but I’m going to make sure I can get back out of it, even if I have to make backup plans for my backup plans!”
Once she was back at Sue’s house, Martha went straight up to her room and started going through Sue’s phone once again and looking through the old spell book. She found a notebook and pen on the desk and began to draft her plans, the supplies she would need for another spell to break the one currently on her, and the risks associated with doing so. Even with perfect intentions, ingredients, and a clear mind, there would still be risks of losing aspects of her personality in Sue’s body and mind. Martha understood this clearly but wanted nothing more than to be back in her husband’s arms and to see her children through her own eyes again.
“I’ve been away from you all for just a day, and I already feel so alone,” Martha cried.
Martha spent several hours going through her notes and reciting the words to the spell over and over again, using Sue’s phone to translate the Latin through multiple apps to make sure she knew exactly what she was saying and how each word should be spoken. By the end of it all, she had nearly filled the entire notebook with her plans. Just as she lay the notebook down on the bed, she heard Sue’s parents come back into the house and call out for her. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to greet them.
Sue’s parents asked her how her day had been and if she had done anything fun, and said they had missed her while they were out and about shopping and enjoying the down. Edward, Sue’s father, gave her a hug and apologized for the argument they’d had the day before. Martha played Sue’s personality as best as she could, acting aloof and accepting Edward’s hug with a feigned half-hearted embrace. She knew the longer she was around Sue’s parents, the greater the risk of exposing herself. Fortunately, the conversation wrapped up, and she was able to go back upstairs with a promise that she’d be back down for dinner later.
Back in Sue’s room, Martha noticed that Sue’s phone was pinging with several notifications. She picked it up and opened the corresponding app to see in real-time the conversation Sue and Valerie were having.
“Oh, this is perfect,” whispered Martha. “She must have signed on through my phone, and it never kicked her out on hers.”
She rushed over to the desk and found a new notebook before settling onto the bed to read what the two girls were talking about and take more notes on anything useful or any thoughts she had about their conversation. By the time Martha needed to go down and have dinner with Sue’s parents, she had modified her plan. In the chaos of the day, she had forgotten that her family was supposed to be leaving for their vacation in just a few days, but she could use that to her advantage. Running downstairs to the kitchen for dinner, Martha couldn’t help but smile. She was going to not only expose Sue and break the spell, but she was going to make sure the girl was not able to cause any more harm to her family moving forward. All Martha needed was a little bit of time.
During Dinner, Martha apologized for being aloof earlier in the afternoon and for the argument that she had started the day before.
“I’m really sorry, Dad,” she said with a quivering lip. “I know I’m not a very good daughter sometimes. I’ve just been so stressed lately because I know I’ll be going to college in a few months, and Jake and I have been talking again…”
Martha trailed off to pretend to wipe away a tear before continuing.
“I know it probably seems so silly, like he and I just keep going back and forth, but he’s just so wonderful. And… and we’ve been talking again, and I can just feel that something is different this time. He invited me to go on his family’s trip to the US Virgin Islands. I know it’s really short notice, but I talked to his mom, Martha, today too, and she really wants me there. She’s so nice and loving, and so is Jake. They even offered to buy me a plane ticket too, which I know couldn’t have been cheap on such short notice. They’re such loving people and…” said Martha, her voice beginning to shake.
Talking about Jake brought back the fear and anxiety of being away from him and the rest of her family, the fear of Sue having free reign of her house, and the feelings of uncertainty that she was in over her head with everything going on.
“I’m sorry,” said Martha. She was no longer acting and let her true sadness show. “I just feel alone without him, and I love him so much. It messes with my head, and I just…”
Sue’s mom came over and hugged Martha, thinking that she was consoling her daughter. Martha held her close and buried her face into Sue’s mother’s shoulder and cried. Although her plan had originally been to put on an act and convince Sue’s parents to let her go on the trip, Martha hadn’t realized just how much she already missed her family and feared for their safety. When her tears had dried and she was able to compose herself, Martha sat back up and apologized to Sue’s parents, laughing to herself as she realized that she didn’t even know their names. Her plan had worked, and Martha got the permission she wanted to go on the trip. Using the excuse of needing to pack, she rushed back upstairs to Sue’s room.
The next phase of her plan was to make sure she could get a plane ticket and find a way to get to the resort once she was on the island. Fortunately, Martha had her credit card information memorized. She searched for available seats and jumped for joy when she found a seat available in economy on the same flight Ron and her family would be on. Now all that was left to do was pack and lay low for the next few days while trying to make attempts to get back to her house and get a hold of Ron. As Martha reflected on a busy and strange day in Sue’s body and tried to relax, energy was peaking for Sue as she continued to exploit Martha’s body.
Ron’s hands swiftly removed the robe that Sue had been wearing and gazed at the gorgeous body of his wife before him, not knowing that it wasn’t truly the woman he loved. Lust burned within him as he pulled Sue back into an increasingly aggressive embrace. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth as she tore at his clothes. Once he was naked, he scooped Sue up and carried her into the bathroom. She wrapped her legs around him and felt his throbbing member pressing against her, desperate to push inside her increasingly receptive pussy.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” panted Ron.
“Is that so?” whispered Sue. “Tell me what you were thinking.
“I was thinking that I was going to repay you for a wonderful start to my day,” replied Ron, gently placing Sue down on the bathroom counter and spreading her legs.
He slowly reached down and nimbly worked both hands over her labia and clitoris before gently sliding a finger into Sue, repeatedly making a “come here” motion as his other hand continued to build pressure and stimulation on her clit. Meanwhile, Sue couldn’t help but moan as Ron used his lips and tongue to continuously tease her nipples and neck. For several minutes, Ron continued his manual stimulation, slowly building a pressure wave of pleasure that continuously threatened to boil over. Smaller waves of pleasure rippled through her from different directions, coming from each point Ron touched. Sue leaned back against the mirror and closed her eyes, savoring the sensations.
“Seems like you’re ready,” said Ron, smiling.
Sue opened her eyes and looked at Ron gripping his cock and gently pressing it against her labia, coating the head of his cock with her pussy’s juices and making it glisten. The sudden realization that she was about to be fucked by Jake’s dad sent a shiver of anxiety and excitement through Sue. She wrapped her legs around Ron and pulled him closer, forcing his cock into her. In Martha’s voice, she cried out, “Oh fuck yes! Oh, fuck me, baby!”
Ron had never heard his wife talk to him like that. Her words supercharged his lust, and he began thrusting into her with tremendous speed. Sue wrapped her legs tighter around him and locked her arms around the back of Ron’s neck. He picked her up from the counter and didn’t miss a beat as he increased his rhythm further yet.
“This. Is. Amazing.” exhaled Sue between thrusts.
She locked her hands together behind Ron’s neck as tight as she could and locked her feet together behind his back, holding on as tightly as she could. Raising herself up before Ron’s next thrust, Sue let herself drop to meet his movement, forcing him into her at a slightly different angle. The resulting change set off all of her pleasure alarms, and she raised herself up again and again to meet each new thrust. The pressure wave of pleasure quickly erupted as Sue came all over Ron’s dick as he continued to fuck her. Involuntarily, all of her muscles tensed, and she tightened herself around Ron’s shaft and dug her nails into his back.
“Cum inside me before you fuck me to death!” exclaimed Sue.
Her words seemed to do the trick as Ron quickly reached his maximum and tensed up as well, pulsing his cock with a new eruption of cum. The two of them stayed locked together for several moments before Ron gently placed Sue back onto the counter and slowly pulled out of her, causing his cum to drip onto the floor. Sue watched with tired yet lustful eyes.
“I thought I may have drained you dry this morning,” she purred.
“I’ll always have more for my goddess,” panted Ron.
He kissed Sue again before starting the shower.
“Are you going to join me?” he said, winking.
“As much as I’d love to, I think I might go lie down for a moment, “whispered Sue. “I need to get the feeling back in my legs.”
“Fair enough,” chuckled Ron. “I love you, honey. So much. You’re the perfect partner and the perfect woman. I don’t tell you that enough.”
Sue was taken off guard by Ron’s sudden change from lust to passion and admiration.
“Oh, thank you. You too,” she replied as she quickly hurried out of the bathroom.
She put her robe back on and went downstairs, sneaking past the living room where Jake and his siblings were watching a movie and into the kitchen. Sue opened the fridge and freezer and browsed through her options before settling on a tub of chocolate ice cream. Scooping herself a generous bowl, she crept back upstairs to the bedroom and sat in bed to watch TV and enjoy her ice cream. After some time, Ron came out of the shower in a towel and moved about the room, taking an inventory of his clothes and making mental notes for packing for the trip. He turned toward Sue to talk to her and noticed the empty bowl of ice cream in her lap.
“Um, honey. Did you eat an entire bowl of ice cream?” asked Ron.
“Yeah, why?” replied Sue as she stared at the TV.
“I guess I must have stopped the blood flow to more than just your legs then,” laughed Ron.
“What do you mean?” asked Sue as she turned toward him.
“Honey, you’re…you’re lactose intolerant, answered Ron flatly.
Sue felt a sharp churning in her stomach. Her eyes widened as a sudden and primal urge to rush to the nearest toilet forced her from the bed and into the bathroom. Not bothering to shut the door behind her, she barely made it to the toilet before the floodgates of hell opened from her backside. She heard Ron roaring with laughter over the torrent before he closed the bathroom door.
“What are you laughing at, Dad?” Jake called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Oh, nothing, just your mother’s misfortune,” Ron called back.
Speaking to Sue through the closed door, he continued, “But seriously, Martha, honey, please let me know if you need anything. If this is anything like last time, you’re probably going to be out of commission for a couple of days. If you need me to, I’ll call the office for you and tell them you need to rest up from being…sick, before we go on our trip.”
Sue cursed to herself and, for the next few hours, even regretted having ever cast the spell in the first place. By the time she was able to walk back out to the bedroom, she was sore and exhausted from the ordeal. Walking over to the nightstand, she saw a large sports drink and a note:
I know you’ll be up a bit tonight. Sleeping on the couch, so the bed is all yours. Drink up, ice cream girl.
Love, Ron.
Too tired to think of any retort to the note, Sue took a few drinks from the bottle before flopping on the bed with only her thoughts of regret and the angry sounds of her intestines to keep her company.
“Wherever Martha is, even if it’s some sort of demonic dimension, can’t be as bad as this,” thought Sue.
Martha lay awake in Sue’s room, her heart racing. A thousand thoughts a minute raced through her mind as she struggled to calm herself down. She began to hyperventilate. Sitting up and clutching a pillow, Martha rocked back and forth as the thoughts continued to move through her head. One stuck out above the others, and Martha’s eyes darted to the spell book that she had placed back on the desk. Summoning all of the energy she could, Martha hopped over to the desk and retrieved the book, darting back to the bad as quickly as she could.
Panting from the anxiety, she clumsily opened the book and began to thumb through the pages, trying to find what she had marked before. When she couldn’t find it, she tossed the book aside and grabbed one of the notebooks she had been putting her thoughts and plans in and flipped through the pages frantically. Finally, she found what she had been looking for, the passage that she had remembered reading earlier in the day. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, she reread her notes:
The spell is a distortion of reality and may create severe anxiety and distress in those impacted by it. - Warnings on page 83.
With the page number in mind, Martha picked up the book once again and flipped through until she arrived on page 83. She read and reread the potential symptoms of the spell, which could be amplified if the spell had not been cast correctly in the first place. Frustrated, Martha through the spell book onto the floor and curled back up in the bed, clutching her pillow.
The next two days passed, with each woman battling their own demons. For Sue, it was the aftershocks of her love for ice cream and the physical pain that came with her inhabited body’s intolerance for dairy. For Martha, it was the twisted mental struggle that came as a byproduct of being the main target of the spell she found herself under. Visions of otherworldly and fantastic beings and events haunted her waking dreams. Neither woman slept well and was only able to keep going due to the thought of the potential salvation that the upcoming vacation might offer. Wednesday morning arrived with both women finding themselves drained and anxious as they boarded their flight for Saint Thomas Island.
Martha took special care to make sure she stayed away from the gate for as long as possible so as to avoid being seen by her family. She didn’t want to spring her trap until the proper moment, Unbeknownst to Martha, Sue had sent her friend, Valerie, to her house the day before to take pictures of the spell book and bring some ingredients to her at Jake’s house. Martha had been out of the house at the time, taking a walk to try to calm herself as the anxiety brought on by the spell wreaked havoc on her mind. Together, Sue and Valerie had performed the spell on Jake’s twin sister, Cheyenne, and done so successfully, or so they thought. Sue had once again managed to mispronounce her Latin, and rather than swapping Valerie and Cheyenne into each other’s bodies, they trapped both of their minds into Cheyenne’s body. The process had put Valerie in command and made Cheyeene a prisoner within her own consciousness.
Valerie’s body was pulled into a void out of space and time, left with small fragments of her former personality but a full capacity for memory. Her family immediately noticed her disappearance, but the initial search ran cold as they came to realize that Valerie had left no trace whatsoever as to where she had gone. All the while, Sue, Martha, and Valerie (at least most of her consciousness) were making their plans for their two-week stay in the US Virgin Islands.
After checking in at the resort, Jake wanted to get out of the room and start exploring to see if anything interesting had changed since last year. His excitement turned to anxiety as he heard his mom’s voice call out for him to wait up so she could go with him. Meanwhile, Jake saw his sister skip off with his dad and younger brother. He noticed something odd about the way Cheyenne was moving and almost clinging to their dad. As he went to call out to them, Sue came up to him in Martha’s body and pulled him into a strong hug. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she winked at Jake before taking his arm and leading him down a walkway in the opposite direction of the rest of his family.
Sue couldn’t help but smile. Everything that she and Valerie had talked about was going according to plan. They had successfully gotten Valerie into Cheyenne’s body, they made it to their destination without being found out, and now they had Jake and Ron separated. The only additional piece to move out of the way now was Jake’s younger brother. However, the girls were confident that they could dump him off at one of the pools for a time to give them a chance to seduce their respective men. Valerie had made Sue describe the sensations of being with Ron in intimate detail during the flight to the island. The story became so descriptive and involved that both of them had to leave at separate times to attempt to relieve their sexual energy in the airplane bathroom. Neither of them was very successful and were now primed and ready for a release, with Sue going after Jake and Cheyenne going after Ron. Valerie had asked about going after Jake at some point during the trip, but Sue would have none of it. As far as she was concerned, Jake was hers alone, and the only reason Valerie was even on the trip was because Sue had offered it to her. In Sue’s mind, Valerie owed her a debt of gratitude.
Jake felt a mix of emotions as he walked with his mom around the resort. He knew something about her seemed off, but he couldn't quite place it. At the same time, he felt a nearly overwhelming urge to touch her, to feel her, and to be intimate in any way possible. Stress clouded his thoughts, and adrenaline rushed through his body. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and run down the side of his face. Sue took notice and pulled Jake off of the walkway and into the nearest building. It was a lounge with several guests and staff milling about. Frustrated, Sue continued to pull Jake through the area and down a hallway until she found an unoccupied bathroom. Pushing Jake in, she followed and locked the door behind them.
Leaning against the counter, Jake tried to catch his breath as he grappled with the feelings and emotions swirling and moving in his mind. Something was wrong. He didn’t feel like himself. He had only ever seen his mother as a loving and nurturing figure, a woman he admired, adored, and loved. But now Jake was feeling increasing pressure from some outside force to view his mother’s body in a new light, a light of sexual desire and pure lust. It was wrong, and Jake knew it, but his strength and ability to fight the pressure were rapidly deteriorating.
Sue was also at a loss for what was happening, but when she caught the outline of a growing bulge in Jake’s shorts, any thoughts she had for caring for him were quickly dispelled as her desire to see him naked took root and spread. She moved toward him and quickly pulled his shorts and boxers down to his ankles, revealing his pulsing member. Moving quickly, Sue pulled the straps of her swimsuit to either side and let the top portion of Martha’s one piece that she was wearing bunch up at her hips. The thought to remove it entirely, along with her swim skirt, crossed her mind, but it was brushed aside. She wanted to taste Jake, to lubricate his cock with her saliva before sliding it between Martha’s beautiful and full breasts. They were much larger than Sue’s, and she wanted to use them to make Jake cum for her.
Jake averted his eyes and looked up at the ceiling as he felt Sue take hold of him with Martha’s hand. As Sue lowered her head to take Jake in her mouth, he suddenly pushed her away. A voice called out in his mind, “That’s not Martha!”
He quickly pulled his shorts back up and ran out of the bathroom and back out to the main courtyard of the resort complex, desperately looking around to find his dad and siblings. Jake kept moving as he was not sure how far away Martha was.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but that was not my mom. It couldn’t have been,” he thought.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw a flash of movement. He turned just as his sister, Cheyenne, ran into him, throwing her arms around him and crying.
“Jake,” she cried. “There’s something in my head! There’s a voice, and it’s…it’s making me want to do things. It made me want to do things to Dad…” She trailed off, burying her face into Jake’s shoulder.
Jake was confused and still felt the urge to keep running, but he stayed still and held his sister for several moments, unable to move. Sue came up behind them in Martha’s body, rage filling her face. The sight of Jake hugging who Sue knew was Valerie infuriated her. Sue opened her mouth to begin screaming at both of them as Martha, in Sue’s body, emerged from behind a stack of pool chairs. She was mumbling under her breath and only raised her voice as Sue and the others took notice of her.
“Et pereant malefici, ad veras formas revertantur omnes animae implicatae!” recited Martha as she blew the ashes of burning sage over all of them. There was a bright flash of light and a sudden rush of wind. Everything seemed to stand still for several moments, and it was as if the onlookers in the area had forgotten what they had just witnessed.
Sue was the first to realize that she was back in her own body. She tackled Martha to the ground and began to hit her wherever she could, scratching at Martha’s face and knocking her head against the concrete. Jake and Cheyenne snapped out of their momentary haze and, in turn, tackled Sue to the ground as a crowd gathered around them. Screaming and cursing, Sue writhed and twisted, but Jake and his sister held her firmly down. Resort staff arrived quickly with security. They helped Martha to her feet and relieved Cheyenne and Jake of Sue, carrying her off as she continued to kick and scream. Although her head was pounding, Martha took Jake and Cheyenne in her arms and hugged them so tightly they had to plead for air. When she relented and released them, Martha could only smile and cry that she was back in her own body and holding those whom she loved so dearly.
Ron arrived shortly after the incident with Jake’s younger brother and had to shoulder his way through the crowd to find Martha. Upon getting to her, he picked her up and held her close saying over and over again,” Please, Martha, tell me it’s really you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
It took Martha several minutes to get her husband to calm down and a few hours more before all of the statements had been collected by local authorities. Nobody in the family revealed the fact that they had been under the influence of a magical spell, but they went along with the narrative that Martha had planned initially. She told the authorities about finding strange charges to her credit card for airfare and local transportation and only realized it had been Sue when she saw her at the resort, stalking her son and her family. That’s when Sue had attacked her. A multitude of bystanders attested to the validity of the attack, saying that Sue had seemed to come out of nowhere, and before anyone knew it, she had Martha on the ground and under a brutal assault.
Several days passed, and Martha and her family took it easy, mostly enjoying each other’s company and assuring one another that everything was fine and that none of them was truly in control of what they were doing while under the spell. By the weekend, Sue’s parents had flown out to get her and travel with her back to the mainland. They had already been interviewed by police back at home several times. Police had confirmed that Sue had used Martha’s credit card information to book her airfare and that she had been messaging her friend Valerie about going to the islands. Valerie had protested and then seemingly disappeared. She turned up, naked and bruised on her front lawn days later after Martha broke the spell. The part of her mind that had been trapped in another dimension and remembered the pain it had experienced. Those memories overpowered what Valerie thought she remembered about her brief time in Cheyenne’s body, and she went along with the story that Sue must have kidnapped her and left her somewhere. She then apparently escaped and found her way back home.
That Saturday night, Jake and his siblings went out to enjoy some fun at the beach with a nighttime volleyball tournament, leaving Martha and Ron in the suite by themselves. They curled up in the bed together, just enjoying each other’s company and the peace of a quiet room without their kids.
“Is your head feeling okay today?” asked Ron as he stroked Martha’s hair.
“Yes, for the hundredth time, I’m fine,” smiled Martha.
“Is there anything that you need, or anything I can do for you?” asked Ron, guilt still in his voice.
Martha propped herself up on her elbow and looked at her husband with a smile. She gently caressed his face and kissed his lips softly.
“You don’t have to feel guilty about anything. We were all struggling with horrible and overwhelming urges. I did and said things that I would never have done otherwise as well.” She kissed Ron again before continuing.
“And now that I’m feeling fully like myself again and recovered from what happened earlier this week, I think I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
Ron perked up. His guilt was replaced with cautious arousal and anticipation. Martha kissed him again, this time gently parting his lips with her tongue, something she had rarely done before. Their kiss deepened, lasting several seconds before Martha pulled away again. She got out of bed and removed her shirt and pajama pants to reveal a black lace bra and thong Sue had packed while she still had control of Martha’s body.
“There was one good thing that came from this whole experience,” Martha whispered seductively.
“And, and what was that?” Ron gulped.
“I told you how I read through that spell book extensively and saw that pieces of personality could slide between those caught in the spell?
Ron nodded.
“It would seem that either a bit of Sue’s libido stayed with me, or I just came to realize how much fun sex could be. So many things to explore.”
Ron’s heart raced as he slowly moved and sat on the edge of the bed, revealing a growing erection. Martha took note and bit her lip before smiling and slowly walking toward the bathroom.
“I was just thinking,” she said as she walked away from Ron, putting extra emphasis on the sway of her hips. “That I might need your help in the shower. You know how I struggle to wash my back very well.”
Martha unfastened her bra and let it fall to the floor. She locked eyes with her husband as she slowly moved her hands up to caress her breasts. Ron removed his shirt to expose his toned chest and core.
“Mmmmmm, I love the way you look, honey,” said Martha. She took her breasts in her hands and sensually massaged them, teasing her nipples with her fingers and savoring the ripples of sensation that radiated from them and through her body.
“You’re a goddess,” smiled Ron as he took off his shorts. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to slowly stroke himself to the sight of his wife.
Martha turned around and slowly bent over as she pulled her thong down to her ankles before standing back up and kicking it across the room. She looked over her shoulder at Ron and stepped into the bathroom, calling out to him.
“I might need your help washing my breasts too, honey. And maybe when you have them all soaped up, I might just slip a little and slide them over that godly cock of yours. I might even let you cum on them, but you have to play with my ass first.”
Ron stopped stroking as Martha finished talking and turned on the water. He twitched, unsure how to interpret her words, and cum began to leak onto his hand. Martha peaked out from the bathroom and smirked. She waltzed over to Ron and knelt in front of him at the edge of the bed.
“And now here you’ve gone and started without me,” she said as she took him fully into her mouth.
Her tongue danced over the head of Ron’s cock as she took him as deep as she could without gagging. She had never given him a blowjob before and wasn’t entirely sure what to do, but Ron seemed to enjoy it despite her inexperience. Within minutes, Ron began to tense up. Martha withdrew from his cock, breathing in deeply. She continued to slowly stroke him, admiring how slick his shaft had become.
“I’m at a loss as to whether I should finish you off right now or keep teasing you,” she said, still stroking her husband.
“Make me cum, and then we can have more fun in the shower before we waste the hot water,” panted Ron.
“Hmmmm,” giggled Martha. She stopped stroking and hopped up to run to the bathroom and turn the water off. “There,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Now we can take our time.”
She sauntered back to Ron, savoring the lustful but agonized look in his eyes. He was aching for release, and she wanted to enjoy herself as she edged him along. Reaching her husband at the edge of the bed, Martha turned around and bent over in front of him, showing off her glistening labia and tight asshole. Backing herself up, Martha began to grind her ass against Ron’s cock, which was still wet from her spit and his precum.
“Now tell me, honey, now that you know I want to try new things in the bedroom, are you excited?” asked Martha as she continued to grind against him.
“Yes,” whispered Ron. He could barely speak as he tried to take everything about the experience in.
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” purred Martha. “You must know that I’m going to make you cum for me several times tonight.”
“I do,” said Ron, groaning as Martha applied more pressure to his cock with her ass.
‘Mmmmm, good,” whispered Martha as she leaned back against her husband. “Now tell me, where do you want to cum first? You have so many…options.”
Martha spoke the last word slowly as she slowly continued to grind against Ron.
“B-breasts. On your breasts…quickly!” said Ron, breathing heavily
Martha swiftly stood up and wrapped her husband's throbbing cock between her breasts and moved up and down, stroking Ron as she applied pressure from the sides. Looking down, Martha giggled at the head of Ron’s cock popping in and out from between her breasts. Lowering her head, she took him in her mouth as well, once again teasing his head with her tongue.
“I’m cumming!” exclaimed Ron.
Martha quickly pull him out of her mouth and lowered herself so that her backside rested on her heels. Ron stood up fully as Martha stroked him through his orgasm, shooting streaks of cum across her chest and neck. A stray shot even hit her in her open mouth as she gasped at her handiwork. In the excitement of tasting Ron’s cum for the first time, Martha took him back into her mouth and continued to suck and stroke him until the last drops of his cum were sliding down her throat.
Standing up, Martha took Ron’s hand and led him back into the bathroom. She turned the water back on and then turned to face her husband.
“You made a mess, so now you have to clean me up,” she giggled. “Take your time, though, and maybe tease my ass a little. I might want you to cum there, too, a little later this week.”
Blood flowed back into Ron’s cock at his wife’s words, and he knew he was ready for another round.
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