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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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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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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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A device that lets one person possess another arrives at the high school! In the dorm room after dark, the girl’s take turns experimenting with it. In this chapter, Sophie takes over Olivia and shows off her body! The girls decide to play a game with the flute, making bets about what they could do in each other's bodies, but things might get just a little bit out of hand!
“I don’t think we should be playing with that.” said Olivia. As a prefect, she always thought it was her duty to be responsible. Unfortunately, this took the form of telling us not to do anything fun. It’s a shame, because she was really quite kind otherwise.
“Shove it, Olivia!” laughed Ava, playfully. She snatched the package from Evelyn’s hands. “I want to see what it does!”
It was Christmas evening at St Clare’s School For Girls, and Evelyn had just received a parcel from her great Aunt. It had arrived quietly in the evening, separate from all the other presents, and had come with a short note, written in a flowing old-lady script.
“My dear Evelyn, this flute has been in my care for nearly a century. I’ve heard of your troubles this past year, so I loan it to you with the hope you use it wisely. Point the end of the flute at a bully and play a note to change their tune. Do not get carried away with it, girl. ~~ Mildrid”
So it was we were now we huddled in the common room, wondering what it actually did.
“We must be very careful.” warned Evelyn, “My great aunt is perhaps the most unusual woman in our family.”
Ava chucked at that. She thought that Evelyn was the most unusual woman in her family.
“We should hand it in to Professor Tumut”, said Olivia. “She’ll be able to tell us if it’s dangerous.”
“And she’d never give it back!” complained Ava, “Let’s just try playing it first, quickly, see what it does.”
“Who should we point it at?” I asked. “I don’t want to risk something bad happening to me.”
“Try it on me then!” said Ava, opening the box and handing the flute to me. “Don’t be a wuss, Sophie!”
I hesitantly took the cold brass instrument. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe Evelyn should be the first one to use it?”
I glanced at her, but she shook her head. She was as worried as I was.
“What about Charlotte?”
I looked at the ditsy girl sitting to my left.
“Me?” said Charlotte “But I don’t know how to play the flute.”
“I don’t think you need to know how.” I said “I think you can just blow across it?”
“Oh, okay.” said Charlotte, unfazed. She was pretty used to us telling her answers. Barely passing her classes, she was quite different to the rest of us. I mean, Ava failed plenty too, but that was just because she didn’t try.
Charlotte took the flute and raised it to her lips.
“Point it at Ava first!” I said nervously. Whatever this thing was going to do, I didn’t want it doing it to me.
“Oh, right, okay.”
She turned a bit, pointing the end at Ava, who grinned.
“Fire away!” laughed Ava and threw her hands in the air.
Charlotte blew and a soft, airy note sounded… then she slumped forward, unconscious.
“Oh no!” shrieked Olivia “What do we do!? She’s hurt!”
Evelyn, however, reached out and gently brushed Charlotte's lips. “She’s still breathing.” she said. “I wonder what happened? Did you feel anything, Ava?”
We turned to look at Ava, and found her mouth wide with shock. She was looking at her hands like she’d never seen them before, wiggling them in front of her eyes. I tapped her on the shoulder.
“Oh! Hi!” she said, her voice strangely bright. “Um, this is weird!”
“What happened?” Olivia whispered.
“Well, um, when I blew into the pipe, I guess it put me into Ava’s body?” said Ava, scrunching up her face. She reached down and squeezed her breasts. “It feels really weird.”
“Oh, you’re Charlotte?” said Evelyn, as if this was as normal as a stroll down to the kitchens. “Do you know what happened to Ava?”
Charlotte shook Ava’s head. “Noooo, I can’t feel her or anything.” then she giggled and patted herself down “Or can I?”
“Ha ha”, I said, “Can you get back to your own body?”
Charlotte scrunched up Ava’s face again as if straining. “Oh no! Does that mean I’m stuck?” she suddenly looked very worried. “I don’t think I want to be Ava! She’s too short!”
Olivia picked up the flute and pushed it into Charlotte's new hands. “Try blowing it again. Point it back into your body.”
Charlotte did so, and a moment later her body sat up again, giggling.
“Ooooh, that was fun!”.
Ava, meanwhile, just blinked. “What happened!? Did it knock me out?”
“Charlotte took over your body.” I said, “I think this is a kind of possession flute.”
“Oh my god!” said Ava, grinning. She felt herself up. “What did she do? I can’t remember a thing!”
“She was only in you for a minute.” said Olivia, biting her lip and squeezing her legs together. “And now that we know what this does, we should definitely hand it in to Professor Tumut.”
“Are you kidding?!” shouted Ava “I’ve got to try it! Who’s turn is it to be possessed next?”
She looked at each of us, her ratty face beaming with excitement.
“Come on guys! It’s easy! You just wake up a minute later, no harm done!”
I shivered. What would Ava do inside my body? She didn’t have much of a filter in her own -- she’d probably make me run around the common room singing or something.
“I’ll give it a go.” said Evelyn “But I do want a turn after. I think whoever gets possessed should be allowed to choose who they possess next.”
Ava looked around at us, pleading. “What do you say, girls?”
Olivia bit her lip. I could tell she was curious... and since there hadn’t been any harm…
“Very well” said Olivia “As long as Ava uses her turn on Evelyn.”
I shivered slightly, wondering what it would be like inside Olivia’s body. I’d get a turn in either her or Charlotte, right? That could be really fun.
“I’m in too.” I said, swallowing nervously.
“I’ve already had a turn!” chirped Charlotte.
Ava grinned again and wasted no time pointing the flute at Evelyn.
“Please don’t do anything weird!” said Evelyn.
Ava blew an ugly note and her body slumped forward. A second later, her trademark grin grew on Evelyn’s innocent face.
“Wow!” said Evelyn’s voice. Ava’s sharp way of speaking sounded very odd coming from Evelyn’s floaty and soft register. It was like she was a whole other person.
Evelyn’s body suddenly stood up.
“Wow!” she said again. “I’m so tall!”
Ava made Evelyn jump up and down, laughing as Evelyn’s bust wobbled in a way Ava’s never could.
“This is amazing!”
“Take it easy, Ava.” said Olivia, “That’s still Evelyn’s body.”
Ava stepped over to her own sleeping body and dug through the pockets of her robes.
“I can’t feel my old body at all!” she said. She grabbed one of her own small boobs in Evelyn’s hand and laughed. “Haha, look everyone, Evelyn’s feeling me up!”
Olivia’s eyes went wide and she glanced around the common room to see if anyone was watching. Luckily it was pretty deserted because of Christmas.
“Stop it!” hissed Olivia, “That’s…”
“What?” said Ava, Evelyn’s voice sounding smug. “It’s my own body! Who says I can’t touch it!”
A naughty look flashed across Evelyn’s innocent face, then Ava bent down and kissed herself on the lips. I felt a strange sensation grow between my legs.
“Ava!”
“Kidding! Kidding!” she said, “I actually only wanted my mirror.”
She pulled out a small pocket mirror and let her old body flop back onto the couch. Looking at her reflection, Ava tried moving Evelyn’s face into all sorts of expressions. Usually Evelyn was very gentle and quiet, she never made faces, but now…
“Oh man! She looks so funny when she frowns!”
Ava turned and made an exaggerated frowning face at me and Olivia.
“Hey, I didn’t get to do any of that stuff when I was you!” said Charlotte. “I want another turn!”
“After me!” I said.
“I think that’s enough Ava.” declared Olivia “Evelyn shouldn’t miss more than a minute or two.”
Ava pouted and stuck Evelyn’s finger up at Olivia, but went back to her seat. I chuckled -- it was really weird seeing Evelyn act like this.
I watched closely this time, wanting to see what happened to Evelyn’s body as she came back to awareness. Ava took the flute and aimed it at her own body, then she stuck her finger up at Olivia again and blew.
It was instant, one moment Evelyn’s face was frowning, then it relaxed and glanced around. Evelyn blushed to find the gesture she was making at Olivia and quickly dropped her hand back into her lap.
“Wow.” she said quietly. “That really was instant.” Then she smiled. satisfied.
“Did you have fun, Ava? I’m glad you got to see what it was like to have my body.”
“She had a lot of fun!” laughed Charlotte.
Ava meanwhile was pushing herself back up, rubbing her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have let myself fall like that.” she said “I think I must have clipped the armrest or something. Owww.”
I laughed at her.
“Serves you right.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“So is it my turn now?” Evelyn asked, the dreamy girl surprisingly focused. She was keen.
Olivia sighed and nodded. I wonder who Evelyn would choose -- Charlotte may be kind of dumb, but her body was like a exaggerated version of Evelyn -- a bit taller, blonder, and bustier. On the other hand, Olivia’s more stern and solid figure might appeal to Evelyn. I smiled at the idea of the responsible and focused girl being controlled by somebody so airy and dream-like.
Evelyn picked up the flute and smiled at me.
“Are you ready, Sophie?”
What?
She raised the flute to her lips and blushed. “It is okay if I have a turn as you?”
I shut my open mouth and steadied myself. That’s okay, I thought, just means I get to definitely pick Olivia.
I nodded at Evelyn and watched her blow a note.
______
A second later I awoke to find myself cuddling with Ava on the other couch. It was like no time had passed at all -- just suddenly my body was in a different position. Evelyn had kicked by slippers off and loosened my tie, I noticed, and my right hand was on Ava’s--
I yelped and jerked my hand back. I stared accusingly at Evelyn -- I hadn’t expected anything like that from her.
“I made her do it.” said Ava, grinning. “And you think I got touchy when I was inside her.”
I gasped.
“It was nothing like that.” said Olivia, quickly. “They just played a prank at the end.”
Charlotte giggled. “And she flashed your boobs in the middle.”
“Evelyn!” I said, shocked.
Evelyn shrunk down her seat a bit. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, really. We’ve compared our boobs before. Besides, it was like it was my body.” She smiled shyly at me. Grrr.
I huffed a little and redid my tie. I didn’t really mind, but it still felt a bit… odd? I imagined my body standing up and flashing Olivia without me there. I tried to get it through my head. That had just happened -- I had stood up and flashed everybody. But I also had been asleep… I glanced down at my body. Nothing had changed about it, yet for a minute or two it hadn’t been mine at all.
I looked up at the others and raised the flute. Conveniently, it was already in my hand from when Evelyn had blown back into herself.
“Fine then.” I said. “You’re turn, Olivia.”
Olivia went red and shuffled in her seat. She squeezed her legs together again and shut her eyes tight.
“Very well.” she said, biting her lip. “Have fun…”
I pointed the flute at Olivia and blew. A kind of tearing sensation came over me, like my very soul was being ripped out of my body. Then…
Foonk!
I landed in Olivia’s body. It didn’t feel like I’d moved anywhere, but my whole perspective had suddenly shifted.
“Holy hell…” I whispered, hearing Olivia’s innocent voice coming out of my lips. Strangely, I felt a little bit horny. Had she--?
“Soooooooo, what’s it like?” said Ava, grinning mischievously.
“It’s-”
I caught up again. It felt really weird to talk out of somebody else's mouth.
“It’s nice?”
I patted myself down, feeling Olivia’s body through her thick jumper. I was really surprised to find how much bigger I was in the chest.
“Well, hurry up!” said Ava, “Show us the goods!”
Charlotte chuckled, and Evelyn blushed. “It’s only fair”, she said.
“Fair would be if I made you flash everybody!”
I straightened up and put on my best Olivia impression, exaggerating her prim way of speaking to a comical level.
“This body must remain prim and proper at all times, otherwise I will tell the teacher that you aaall deserve a detention.”
Ava guffawed. I continued.
“I will serve the detention too, of course, to make sure none of you are having fun.”
I pointed a mockingly stern finger at Ava, who was in stitches laughing on the cough. I made Olivia wiggle it back and forth in an exaggerated way.
“Do you find this funny?!” I chided her. “You just WAIT until the headmaster hears of this!”
“Olivia?” an innocent voice said.
I froze. Ava’s laughter cut off instantly.
I looked up to see one of the other girl’s making her way down from the bedding area. “Is everything okay? I heard you shouting.”
“Everything’s-fine-you-can-go-back-to-bed-now” I let out in a rush, Olivia’s voice strangely high pitched. “I was just playing a game!”
The girl frowned at me, confused. I couldn’t remember her name, but I think she was a friend of Olivia’s.
“Oh… okay then.” she frowned again. “Please don’t make too much noise. I wouldn’t have thought I’d have to ask you that, Olivia.”
“Right, no, thanks, sorry!” I said in a rush. Ahh, this was not a good Olivia impression. Thankfully, the girl shuffled back off to bed.
“It was weird seeing Olivia get flustered like that.” said Everlyn, thoughtfully. “Normally she’s so in control, but you’re-”
“Yeah thanks”, I cut her off. “That was close.”
“That was brilliant!” said Ava, “She had no idea that you’re not Olivia!”
“Well, obviously.” I said, “Nobody knows about the flute.”
“This is amazing. I think we should make this a game.” Ava continued, ignoring me. “I bet you two hobnobs that you could get through all of potions tomorrow without anybody realising.”
“I can’t stay in Olivia all that time!”
“Actually, maybe you should get out of her now, it’s been a few minutes.” said Evelyn.
I fixed Ava with one of Olivia’s piercing glares -- only half joking -- and then blew myself back into my sleeping body. It felt a little uncomfortable from lying on its face all that time.
Olivia woke up instantly and glanced around, confused. She felt herself up and frowned. “I feel completely normal.” she said, almost sounding… disappointed?
“Ava wanted me to stay in you till tomorrow.” I said accusingly. Olivia fixed Ava with the exact same glare I’d made her give a second ago.
“Noooooooo.” said Ava, “I bet that Sophie could pretend to be you all through potions without anybody noticing. It’s different.”
Olivia didn’t miss a beat. “Well I can’t miss potions, so that’s out.”
Charlotte suddenly chimed up, out of the blue. “I bet I could do the splits in Everlyn’s body.” she said.
We all turned to look at her. Where had that come from?
“See, it’s a game!” said Ava. “Somebody makes a bet. If they win, they get to take over the loser’s body for a bit. If they lose, the loser gets to take over their body.”
“And my body is just used to decide the bet?” said Evelyn.
“Yes! Well, whoever’s body is needed for a particular bet, I mean.”
“I don’t like this.” said Olivia, predictably. Then she blushed. “And I don’t think you could do the splits in Evelyn’s body, Charlotte.”
“Wait, are you taking the bet?” I asked, surprised. “You know that means Charlotte gets to control you for a bit if she wins?”
“I know.” siad Olivia, quietly.
“Okay then!” said Ava, grinning. She threw the flute over to Charlotte. “Go for it, girl!”
Charlotte smiled confidently and pointed the flute at Evelyn, who shrugged. She seemed really unfazed by this whole ‘body possession’ thing.
A moment later and Everlyn’s body was doing practice stretches, while Charlotte's body lay collapsed onto its side.
“Ugh!” Evelyn’s (usually soft) voice grunted “What the hell, I can barely move my arms!”
I watched as Charlotte tried to contort Evelyn’s body into a pretzel, something that had apparently been easy for her in her own body.
“On to the splits.” said Olivia smugly.
Charlotte stood Evelyn’s little body up, hands high in the air. She actually looked more graceful - and solid - than I’d ever seen Evelyn look.
It wasn’t enough though, Charlotte tried to bend down, forcing Evelyn’s chest forward as she crab walked the legs out sideways, but she barely made it halfway into a split before getting stuck.
“COME ON!” shouted Evelyn’s voice. Charlotte tried to force her legs wider, pulsing dangerously as she thrust towards the ground. “ARRRGH.”
Ava kicked her and Charlotte sprawled back onto the floor, Evelyn’s body flopping unceremoniously.
“Not fair!” she grumbled, punching herself in the thigh.
“Back in your body now!” said Olivia, holding out the flute. Charlotte begrudgingly took it and blew at her own sleeping form. The instant she did, Evelyn’s face crinkled with pain.
“Owww, what did you put my body through?”
Evelyn looked down at herself, gingerly rubbing the spot on her thigh where Charlotte had punched her.
Punched her with that same hand, I thought.
Charlotte just scowled as Olivia reached over and plucked the flute out of Evelyn’s hand and took her over. Olivia’s body collapsed and Charlotte grinned.
“It was my turn anyway.” she said, Olivia’s prim way of speaking echoing weirdly with Charlotte’s voice. I noticed Olivia paused several times in the process of feeling herself up, spending an inordinate amount of time rubbing Charlotte’s legs.
“Hey, I bet I could do the splits now!” said Olivia. She sprung up in Charlotte’s body, energetically. “Wow, she’s so fit!”
Olivia easily slid Charlotte’s legs out on the floor to either side. She grinned as she wiggled her toes. She also seemed to be grating Charlotte’s hips slightly on the floor, though I must have been imagining it.
“This is so easy! No wonder Charlotte thought she could do it as Evelyn!”
“Yeah, yeah.” said Ava. “Next bet. I bet nobody would be able to tell I’m not Sophie”
Me?
“Hey wait what?” I said.
“You heard me.” said Ava, “Nobody will be able to tell that I’m not you. I’m great at impressions, watch.”Ava screwed up her face and made her voice comically flat.
“Yeah guys I dunno.” she said in a mocking imitation of me. “Yeah that’s pretty good guys. I don’t know.”
“You already said that one.” said Evelyn.
“That’s because she doesn’t say anything else!” Ava said, gesturing at me.
“Rude!” I said, only half pretending to be annoyed. “Anyway you don’t get to possess me because nobody will take the bet and risk getting possessed by you!”
Ava frowned. “Why wouldn’t anybody want to be possessed by me?”
“Because you’ll make them do something crazy!”
“Yeah, but it will be funny!”
I sighed.
“I’ll take the bet.” said Olivia from inside Charlotte’s body, still doing the splits on the ground. “But only if I don’t have to leave Charlotte's body first.”
“Wait, does that mean- ?” I started, but Ava cut me off.
“Boo-yeah! Give me that flute!” she snatched the flute from Olivia’s body’s limp hands and aimed it at me.
“Hold on!!” I shouted quickly. “Rules! We need rules!”
“I’ll take your body and go chat with Steph and that over there.” said Ava, gesturing across the common room to where the only other group sat playing chess. “If they don’t ask if I’m really Ava, I win.”
“No!” said Olivia sharply. “Of course they won’t ask if you’re Ava. If they so much as say “Are you feeling okay, Sophie?” or suspect something is wrong in any way, then I win this bet. Evelyn makes the final decision.”
“Fine” said Ava. “Ready, Sophie?”
I stared down the barrel of the flute and gulped. Ava blew into it and-
I was standing on my tippy toes.
What the hell? Going from lounging about to standing in an instant was weird. My clothes felt a bit ruffled, and my right arm was a bit sore for some reason, but otherwise I felt completely normal.
“Woah.”
I noticed I suddenly felt really sleepy, as if I’d stayed up waaaay past my bedtime. I was still in the common room, fortunately, but the candles had burned more than halfway down. I frowned. Ava had stayed in me much longer than I’d meant her too.
I glanced around the room, letting the hand holding the flute drop to my side. It was basically empty, and a candle flickering up the stairs to the bedrooms signalled that somebody had just left. Evelyn was dozed off on one of the lounges, and Olivia’s body was still slumped over where I’d last seen it. Was she still inside Charlotte then?
In front of me, Ava stretched and grinned. “Hey, I’m not too sore this time!”
“What happened? How long did you stay inside me?” I cringed “And what did you make me do?”
“Only an hour or two.” said Ava, yawning. “I won the bet, by the way. Nobody could tell I wasn’t you.”
It was hard not to feel a little bit hurt by that. Ava patted me on the shoulder lazily as she headed up to bed.
“You can beat me in an arm wrestle, by the way.”
“What? How could you know that?”
Ava just giggled and wandered upstairs.
________
Ava had apparently worn me out, as well as kept me up past my bedtime, so it was with a bleary shuffle that I made my way down to breakfast late the next morning
I didn’t look nearly as out of sorts as Charlotte, however. She stumbled in about 10 minutes after me, red eyed and frazzled.
“What the hell happened last night?” she asked, as she took the spot beside me. “I don’t remember a thing after bloody Evelyn couldn’t do the splits.”
“I missed most of it as well.” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Ava” I said, gesturing at myself. Charlotte let out a snort.
“I would have thought Olivia would have been better, but apparently…” she trailed off, obviously too tired to get her thoughts into words. “Where is she this morning anyway?”
Olivia, it turned out, was right behind us. She leaned over Charlotte and me, wearing an uncharacteristic smirk.
“Mornin’” Olivia chirped. “Have fun last night, Charlotte?”
“I can’t believe you possessed me all night, Liv. Not cool.”
Olivia chuckled and threw back her hair. “Just having fun, you know! Gotta let my hair down every now and again!”
“Bitch” Charlotte muttered, turning back to her cereal. Olivia grinned and messed up her hair.
“It’s so tight that who knows how wild it can get when I let it go?”
Olivia winked at me, and it clicked.
“Ava?” I asked.
Olivia grinned wider. “Got it in one. If only you had been there for the bet last night!”
“Were you…”
“No, I only took over Olivia about two minutes ago. That was all her in Charlotte last night! I caught her trying to sneak out of the Great Hall when she spotted you guys and thought, since I had won that bet, I’d better bring her over.”
Charlotte smiled darkly.
“Make her pick her nose.”
Ava obliged.
“And now stand on one leg.”
Ava did, wobbling slightly.
“Now jump on the table and do that again.”
Ava gave her a look.
“This just feels like I’m the one being humiliated! Let me jump out of her afterwards.”
She pulled the flute out from somewhere inside Olivia’s robes.
“But where’s your body?” I asked.
“Last night we discovered you don’t need to go back to your own body.” said Ava. “I can just blow right into the next person and Olivia will wake up like normal.”
“How did you work that out?” I asked, confused.
Ava ignored me. She made Olivia stand up straight as an arrow, head held high in the air like a prince entering a ball. Then she leapt up onto the breakfast table, raised a finger high into the air, and shoved it into her own nose.
People started to turn around and look at the commotion. I heard whispers of disbelief. Olivia had apparently gone mental.
“Hey, wait a minute! You got to possess Olivia because she bet against you! Who are you going to bet with now?”
Ava crinkled Olivia’s face as she wobbled on the table, a finger in her nose.
“I bet that you can’t make Sophie… I dunno… take off her shoes.”
“Deal accepted” smirked Ava, and raised the flute towards me.
Dammit.
An instant later I was staring down at my school shoes, which had apparently teleported to where my breakfast had been a moment before. I wiggled my toes and found that, yes indeed, Ava had managed to make me take them off. Very impressive.
Next to me, Charlotte giggled like mad. “Your face!!” she laughed, pointing. “You look so resigned! Ha!”
So Ava had ‘won’ that bet too then.
“Come on.” Ava said standing up. “Let’s go find my body.”
“But I haven’t eaten yet!” I grumbled.
“I ate it for you!” laughed Ava, “Come on, Charlotte’s exhausted and I don’t want to stay in her a moment longer than I have to.”
“I don’t think we should be playing with that.” said Olivia. As a prefect, she always thought it was her duty to be responsible. Unfortunately, this took the form of telling us not to do anything fun. It’s a shame, because she was really quite kind otherwise.
“Shove it, Olivia!” laughed Ava, playfully. She snatched the package from Evelyn’s hands. “I want to see what it does!”
It was Christmas evening at St Clare’s School For Girls, and Evelyn had just received a parcel from her great Aunt. It had arrived quietly in the evening, separate from all the other presents, and had come with a short note, written in a flowing old-lady script.
“My dear Evelyn, this flute has been in my care for nearly a century. I’ve heard of your troubles this past year, so I loan it to you with the hope you use it wisely. Point the end of the flute at a bully and play a note to change their tune. Do not get carried away with it, girl. ~~ Mildrid”
So it was we were now we huddled in the common room, wondering what it actually did.
“We must be very careful.” warned Evelyn, “My great aunt is perhaps the most unusual woman in our family.”
Ava chucked at that. She thought that Evelyn was the most unusual woman in her family.
“We should hand it in to Professor Tumut”, said Olivia. “She’ll be able to tell us if it’s dangerous.”
“And she’d never give it back!” complained Ava, “Let’s just try playing it first, quickly, see what it does.”
“Who should we point it at?” I asked. “I don’t want to risk something bad happening to me.”
“Try it on me then!” said Ava, opening the box and handing the flute to me. “Don’t be a wuss, Sophie!”
I hesitantly took the cold brass instrument. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe Evelyn should be the first one to use it?”
I glanced at her, but she shook her head. She was as worried as I was.
“What about Charlotte?”
I looked at the ditsy girl sitting to my left.
“Me?” said Charlotte “But I don’t know how to play the flute.”
“I don’t think you need to know how.” I said “I think you can just blow across it?”
“Oh, okay.” said Charlotte, unfazed. She was pretty used to us telling her answers. Barely passing her classes, she was quite different to the rest of us. I mean, Ava failed plenty too, but that was just because she didn’t try.
Charlotte took the flute and raised it to her lips.
“Point it at Ava first!” I said nervously. Whatever this thing was going to do, I didn’t want it doing it to me.
“Oh, right, okay.”
She turned a bit, pointing the end at Ava, who grinned.
“Fire away!” laughed Ava and threw her hands in the air.
Charlotte blew and a soft, airy note sounded… then she slumped forward, unconscious.
“Oh no!” shrieked Olivia “What do we do!? She’s hurt!”
Evelyn, however, reached out and gently brushed Charlotte's lips. “She’s still breathing.” she said. “I wonder what happened? Did you feel anything, Ava?”
We turned to look at Ava, and found her mouth wide with shock. She was looking at her hands like she’d never seen them before, wiggling them in front of her eyes. I tapped her on the shoulder.
“Oh! Hi!” she said, her voice strangely bright. “Um, this is weird!”
“What happened?” Olivia whispered.
“Well, um, when I blew into the pipe, I guess it put me into Ava’s body?” said Ava, scrunching up her face. She reached down and squeezed her breasts. “It feels really weird.”
“Oh, you’re Charlotte?” said Evelyn, as if this was as normal as a stroll down to the kitchens. “Do you know what happened to Ava?”
Charlotte shook Ava’s head. “Noooo, I can’t feel her or anything.” then she giggled and patted herself down “Or can I?”
“Ha ha”, I said, “Can you get back to your own body?”
Charlotte scrunched up Ava’s face again as if straining. “Oh no! Does that mean I’m stuck?” she suddenly looked very worried. “I don’t think I want to be Ava! She’s too short!”
Olivia picked up the flute and pushed it into Charlotte's new hands. “Try blowing it again. Point it back into your body.”
Charlotte did so, and a moment later her body sat up again, giggling.
“Ooooh, that was fun!”.
Ava, meanwhile, just blinked. “What happened!? Did it knock me out?”
“Charlotte took over your body.” I said, “I think this is a kind of possession flute.”
“Oh my god!” said Ava, grinning. She felt herself up. “What did she do? I can’t remember a thing!”
“She was only in you for a minute.” said Olivia, biting her lip and squeezing her legs together. “And now that we know what this does, we should definitely hand it in to Professor Tumut.”
“Are you kidding?!” shouted Ava “I’ve got to try it! Who’s turn is it to be possessed next?”
She looked at each of us, her ratty face beaming with excitement.
“Come on guys! It’s easy! You just wake up a minute later, no harm done!”
I shivered. What would Ava do inside my body? She didn’t have much of a filter in her own -- she’d probably make me run around the common room singing or something.
“I’ll give it a go.” said Evelyn “But I do want a turn after. I think whoever gets possessed should be allowed to choose who they possess next.”
Ava looked around at us, pleading. “What do you say, girls?”
Olivia bit her lip. I could tell she was curious... and since there hadn’t been any harm…
“Very well” said Olivia “As long as Ava uses her turn on Evelyn.”
I shivered slightly, wondering what it would be like inside Olivia’s body. I’d get a turn in either her or Charlotte, right? That could be really fun.
“I’m in too.” I said, swallowing nervously.
“I’ve already had a turn!” chirped Charlotte.
Ava grinned again and wasted no time pointing the flute at Evelyn.
“Please don’t do anything weird!” said Evelyn.
Ava blew an ugly note and her body slumped forward. A second later, her trademark grin grew on Evelyn’s innocent face.
“Wow!” said Evelyn’s voice. Ava’s sharp way of speaking sounded very odd coming from Evelyn’s floaty and soft register. It was like she was a whole other person.
Evelyn’s body suddenly stood up.
“Wow!” she said again. “I’m so tall!”
Ava made Evelyn jump up and down, laughing as Evelyn’s bust wobbled in a way Ava’s never could.
“This is amazing!”
“Take it easy, Ava.” said Olivia, “That’s still Evelyn’s body.”
Ava stepped over to her own sleeping body and dug through the pockets of her robes.
“I can’t feel my old body at all!” she said. She grabbed one of her own small boobs in Evelyn’s hand and laughed. “Haha, look everyone, Evelyn’s feeling me up!”
Olivia’s eyes went wide and she glanced around the common room to see if anyone was watching. Luckily it was pretty deserted because of Christmas.
“Stop it!” hissed Olivia, “That’s…”
“What?” said Ava, Evelyn’s voice sounding smug. “It’s my own body! Who says I can’t touch it!”
A naughty look flashed across Evelyn’s innocent face, then Ava bent down and kissed herself on the lips. I felt a strange sensation grow between my legs.
“Ava!”
“Kidding! Kidding!” she said, “I actually only wanted my mirror.”
She pulled out a small pocket mirror and let her old body flop back onto the couch. Looking at her reflection, Ava tried moving Evelyn’s face into all sorts of expressions. Usually Evelyn was very gentle and quiet, she never made faces, but now…
“Oh man! She looks so funny when she frowns!”
Ava turned and made an exaggerated frowning face at me and Olivia.
“Hey, I didn’t get to do any of that stuff when I was you!” said Charlotte. “I want another turn!”
“After me!” I said.
“I think that’s enough Ava.” declared Olivia “Evelyn shouldn’t miss more than a minute or two.”
Ava pouted and stuck Evelyn’s finger up at Olivia, but went back to her seat. I chuckled -- it was really weird seeing Evelyn act like this.
I watched closely this time, wanting to see what happened to Evelyn’s body as she came back to awareness. Ava took the flute and aimed it at her own body, then she stuck her finger up at Olivia again and blew.
It was instant, one moment Evelyn’s face was frowning, then it relaxed and glanced around. Evelyn blushed to find the gesture she was making at Olivia and quickly dropped her hand back into her lap.
“Wow.” she said quietly. “That really was instant.” Then she smiled. satisfied.
“Did you have fun, Ava? I’m glad you got to see what it was like to have my body.”
“She had a lot of fun!” laughed Charlotte.
Ava meanwhile was pushing herself back up, rubbing her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have let myself fall like that.” she said “I think I must have clipped the armrest or something. Owww.”
I laughed at her.
“Serves you right.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“So is it my turn now?” Evelyn asked, the dreamy girl surprisingly focused. She was keen.
Olivia sighed and nodded. I wonder who Evelyn would choose -- Charlotte may be kind of dumb, but her body was like a exaggerated version of Evelyn -- a bit taller, blonder, and bustier. On the other hand, Olivia’s more stern and solid figure might appeal to Evelyn. I smiled at the idea of the responsible and focused girl being controlled by somebody so airy and dream-like.
Evelyn picked up the flute and smiled at me.
“Are you ready, Sophie?”
What?
She raised the flute to her lips and blushed. “It is okay if I have a turn as you?”
I shut my open mouth and steadied myself. That’s okay, I thought, just means I get to definitely pick Olivia.
I nodded at Evelyn and watched her blow a note.
______
A second later I awoke to find myself cuddling with Ava on the other couch. It was like no time had passed at all -- just suddenly my body was in a different position. Evelyn had kicked by slippers off and loosened my tie, I noticed, and my right hand was on Ava’s--
I yelped and jerked my hand back. I stared accusingly at Evelyn -- I hadn’t expected anything like that from her.
“I made her do it.” said Ava, grinning. “And you think I got touchy when I was inside her.”
I gasped.
“It was nothing like that.” said Olivia, quickly. “They just played a prank at the end.”
Charlotte giggled. “And she flashed your boobs in the middle.”
“Evelyn!” I said, shocked.
Evelyn shrunk down her seat a bit. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, really. We’ve compared our boobs before. Besides, it was like it was my body.” She smiled shyly at me. Grrr.
I huffed a little and redid my tie. I didn’t really mind, but it still felt a bit… odd? I imagined my body standing up and flashing Olivia without me there. I tried to get it through my head. That had just happened -- I had stood up and flashed everybody. But I also had been asleep… I glanced down at my body. Nothing had changed about it, yet for a minute or two it hadn’t been mine at all.
I looked up at the others and raised the flute. Conveniently, it was already in my hand from when Evelyn had blown back into herself.
“Fine then.” I said. “You’re turn, Olivia.”
Olivia went red and shuffled in her seat. She squeezed her legs together again and shut her eyes tight.
“Very well.” she said, biting her lip. “Have fun…”
I pointed the flute at Olivia and blew. A kind of tearing sensation came over me, like my very soul was being ripped out of my body. Then…
Foonk!
I landed in Olivia’s body. It didn’t feel like I’d moved anywhere, but my whole perspective had suddenly shifted.
“Holy hell…” I whispered, hearing Olivia’s innocent voice coming out of my lips. Strangely, I felt a little bit horny. Had she--?
“Soooooooo, what’s it like?” said Ava, grinning mischievously.
“It’s-”
I caught up again. It felt really weird to talk out of somebody else's mouth.
“It’s nice?”
I patted myself down, feeling Olivia’s body through her thick jumper. I was really surprised to find how much bigger I was in the chest.
“Well, hurry up!” said Ava, “Show us the goods!”
Charlotte chuckled, and Evelyn blushed. “It’s only fair”, she said.
“Fair would be if I made you flash everybody!”
I straightened up and put on my best Olivia impression, exaggerating her prim way of speaking to a comical level.
“This body must remain prim and proper at all times, otherwise I will tell the teacher that you aaall deserve a detention.”
Ava guffawed. I continued.
“I will serve the detention too, of course, to make sure none of you are having fun.”
I pointed a mockingly stern finger at Ava, who was in stitches laughing on the cough. I made Olivia wiggle it back and forth in an exaggerated way.
“Do you find this funny?!” I chided her. “You just WAIT until the headmaster hears of this!”
“Olivia?” an innocent voice said.
I froze. Ava’s laughter cut off instantly.
I looked up to see one of the other girl’s making her way down from the bedding area. “Is everything okay? I heard you shouting.”
“Everything’s-fine-you-can-go-back-to-bed-now” I let out in a rush, Olivia’s voice strangely high pitched. “I was just playing a game!”
The girl frowned at me, confused. I couldn’t remember her name, but I think she was a friend of Olivia’s.
“Oh… okay then.” she frowned again. “Please don’t make too much noise. I wouldn’t have thought I’d have to ask you that, Olivia.”
“Right, no, thanks, sorry!” I said in a rush. Ahh, this was not a good Olivia impression. Thankfully, the girl shuffled back off to bed.
“It was weird seeing Olivia get flustered like that.” said Everlyn, thoughtfully. “Normally she’s so in control, but you’re-”
“Yeah thanks”, I cut her off. “That was close.”
“That was brilliant!” said Ava, “She had no idea that you’re not Olivia!”
“Well, obviously.” I said, “Nobody knows about the flute.”
“This is amazing. I think we should make this a game.” Ava continued, ignoring me. “I bet you two hobnobs that you could get through all of potions tomorrow without anybody realising.”
“I can’t stay in Olivia all that time!”
“Actually, maybe you should get out of her now, it’s been a few minutes.” said Evelyn.
I fixed Ava with one of Olivia’s piercing glares -- only half joking -- and then blew myself back into my sleeping body. It felt a little uncomfortable from lying on its face all that time.
Olivia woke up instantly and glanced around, confused. She felt herself up and frowned. “I feel completely normal.” she said, almost sounding… disappointed?
“Ava wanted me to stay in you till tomorrow.” I said accusingly. Olivia fixed Ava with the exact same glare I’d made her give a second ago.
“Noooooooo.” said Ava, “I bet that Sophie could pretend to be you all through potions without anybody noticing. It’s different.”
Olivia didn’t miss a beat. “Well I can’t miss potions, so that’s out.”
Charlotte suddenly chimed up, out of the blue. “I bet I could do the splits in Everlyn’s body.” she said.
We all turned to look at her. Where had that come from?
“See, it’s a game!” said Ava. “Somebody makes a bet. If they win, they get to take over the loser’s body for a bit. If they lose, the loser gets to take over their body.”
“And my body is just used to decide the bet?” said Evelyn.
“Yes! Well, whoever’s body is needed for a particular bet, I mean.”
“I don’t like this.” said Olivia, predictably. Then she blushed. “And I don’t think you could do the splits in Evelyn’s body, Charlotte.”
“Wait, are you taking the bet?” I asked, surprised. “You know that means Charlotte gets to control you for a bit if she wins?”
“I know.” siad Olivia, quietly.
“Okay then!” said Ava, grinning. She threw the flute over to Charlotte. “Go for it, girl!”
Charlotte smiled confidently and pointed the flute at Evelyn, who shrugged. She seemed really unfazed by this whole ‘body possession’ thing.
A moment later and Everlyn’s body was doing practice stretches, while Charlotte's body lay collapsed onto its side.
“Ugh!” Evelyn’s (usually soft) voice grunted “What the hell, I can barely move my arms!”
I watched as Charlotte tried to contort Evelyn’s body into a pretzel, something that had apparently been easy for her in her own body.
“On to the splits.” said Olivia smugly.
Charlotte stood Evelyn’s little body up, hands high in the air. She actually looked more graceful - and solid - than I’d ever seen Evelyn look.
It wasn’t enough though, Charlotte tried to bend down, forcing Evelyn’s chest forward as she crab walked the legs out sideways, but she barely made it halfway into a split before getting stuck.
“COME ON!” shouted Evelyn’s voice. Charlotte tried to force her legs wider, pulsing dangerously as she thrust towards the ground. “ARRRGH.”
Ava kicked her and Charlotte sprawled back onto the floor, Evelyn’s body flopping unceremoniously.
“Not fair!” she grumbled, punching herself in the thigh.
“Back in your body now!” said Olivia, holding out the flute. Charlotte begrudgingly took it and blew at her own sleeping form. The instant she did, Evelyn’s face crinkled with pain.
“Owww, what did you put my body through?”
Evelyn looked down at herself, gingerly rubbing the spot on her thigh where Charlotte had punched her.
Punched her with that same hand, I thought.
Charlotte just scowled as Olivia reached over and plucked the flute out of Evelyn’s hand and took her over. Olivia’s body collapsed and Charlotte grinned.
“It was my turn anyway.” she said, Olivia’s prim way of speaking echoing weirdly with Charlotte’s voice. I noticed Olivia paused several times in the process of feeling herself up, spending an inordinate amount of time rubbing Charlotte’s legs.
“Hey, I bet I could do the splits now!” said Olivia. She sprung up in Charlotte’s body, energetically. “Wow, she’s so fit!”
Olivia easily slid Charlotte’s legs out on the floor to either side. She grinned as she wiggled her toes. She also seemed to be grating Charlotte’s hips slightly on the floor, though I must have been imagining it.
“This is so easy! No wonder Charlotte thought she could do it as Evelyn!”
“Yeah, yeah.” said Ava. “Next bet. I bet nobody would be able to tell I’m not Sophie”
Me?
“Hey wait what?” I said.
“You heard me.” said Ava, “Nobody will be able to tell that I’m not you. I’m great at impressions, watch.”Ava screwed up her face and made her voice comically flat.
“Yeah guys I dunno.” she said in a mocking imitation of me. “Yeah that’s pretty good guys. I don’t know.”
“You already said that one.” said Evelyn.
“That’s because she doesn’t say anything else!” Ava said, gesturing at me.
“Rude!” I said, only half pretending to be annoyed. “Anyway you don’t get to possess me because nobody will take the bet and risk getting possessed by you!”
Ava frowned. “Why wouldn’t anybody want to be possessed by me?”
“Because you’ll make them do something crazy!”
“Yeah, but it will be funny!”
I sighed.
“I’ll take the bet.” said Olivia from inside Charlotte’s body, still doing the splits on the ground. “But only if I don’t have to leave Charlotte's body first.”
“Wait, does that mean- ?” I started, but Ava cut me off.
“Boo-yeah! Give me that flute!” she snatched the flute from Olivia’s body’s limp hands and aimed it at me.
“Hold on!!” I shouted quickly. “Rules! We need rules!”
“I’ll take your body and go chat with Steph and that over there.” said Ava, gesturing across the common room to where the only other group sat playing chess. “If they don’t ask if I’m really Ava, I win.”
“No!” said Olivia sharply. “Of course they won’t ask if you’re Ava. If they so much as say “Are you feeling okay, Sophie?” or suspect something is wrong in any way, then I win this bet. Evelyn makes the final decision.”
“Fine” said Ava. “Ready, Sophie?”
I stared down the barrel of the flute and gulped. Ava blew into it and-
I was standing on my tippy toes.
What the hell? Going from lounging about to standing in an instant was weird. My clothes felt a bit ruffled, and my right arm was a bit sore for some reason, but otherwise I felt completely normal.
“Woah.”
I noticed I suddenly felt really sleepy, as if I’d stayed up waaaay past my bedtime. I was still in the common room, fortunately, but the candles had burned more than halfway down. I frowned. Ava had stayed in me much longer than I’d meant her too.
I glanced around the room, letting the hand holding the flute drop to my side. It was basically empty, and a candle flickering up the stairs to the bedrooms signalled that somebody had just left. Evelyn was dozed off on one of the lounges, and Olivia’s body was still slumped over where I’d last seen it. Was she still inside Charlotte then?
In front of me, Ava stretched and grinned. “Hey, I’m not too sore this time!”
“What happened? How long did you stay inside me?” I cringed “And what did you make me do?”
“Only an hour or two.” said Ava, yawning. “I won the bet, by the way. Nobody could tell I wasn’t you.”
It was hard not to feel a little bit hurt by that. Ava patted me on the shoulder lazily as she headed up to bed.
“You can beat me in an arm wrestle, by the way.”
“What? How could you know that?”
Ava just giggled and wandered upstairs.
________
Ava had apparently worn me out, as well as kept me up past my bedtime, so it was with a bleary shuffle that I made my way down to breakfast late the next morning
I didn’t look nearly as out of sorts as Charlotte, however. She stumbled in about 10 minutes after me, red eyed and frazzled.
“What the hell happened last night?” she asked, as she took the spot beside me. “I don’t remember a thing after bloody Evelyn couldn’t do the splits.”
“I missed most of it as well.” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Ava” I said, gesturing at myself. Charlotte let out a snort.
“I would have thought Olivia would have been better, but apparently…” she trailed off, obviously too tired to get her thoughts into words. “Where is she this morning anyway?”
Olivia, it turned out, was right behind us. She leaned over Charlotte and me, wearing an uncharacteristic smirk.
“Mornin’” Olivia chirped. “Have fun last night, Charlotte?”
“I can’t believe you possessed me all night, Liv. Not cool.”
Olivia chuckled and threw back her hair. “Just having fun, you know! Gotta let my hair down every now and again!”
“Bitch” Charlotte muttered, turning back to her cereal. Olivia grinned and messed up her hair.
“It’s so tight that who knows how wild it can get when I let it go?”
Olivia winked at me, and it clicked.
“Ava?” I asked.
Olivia grinned wider. “Got it in one. If only you had been there for the bet last night!”
“Were you…”
“No, I only took over Olivia about two minutes ago. That was all her in Charlotte last night! I caught her trying to sneak out of the Great Hall when she spotted you guys and thought, since I had won that bet, I’d better bring her over.”
Charlotte smiled darkly.
“Make her pick her nose.”
Ava obliged.
“And now stand on one leg.”
Ava did, wobbling slightly.
“Now jump on the table and do that again.”
Ava gave her a look.
“This just feels like I’m the one being humiliated! Let me jump out of her afterwards.”
She pulled the flute out from somewhere inside Olivia’s robes.
“But where’s your body?” I asked.
“Last night we discovered you don’t need to go back to your own body.” said Ava. “I can just blow right into the next person and Olivia will wake up like normal.”
“How did you work that out?” I asked, confused.
Ava ignored me. She made Olivia stand up straight as an arrow, head held high in the air like a prince entering a ball. Then she leapt up onto the breakfast table, raised a finger high into the air, and shoved it into her own nose.
People started to turn around and look at the commotion. I heard whispers of disbelief. Olivia had apparently gone mental.
“Hey, wait a minute! You got to possess Olivia because she bet against you! Who are you going to bet with now?”
Ava crinkled Olivia’s face as she wobbled on the table, a finger in her nose.
“I bet that you can’t make Sophie… I dunno… take off her shoes.”
“Deal accepted” smirked Ava, and raised the flute towards me.
Dammit.
An instant later I was staring down at my school shoes, which had apparently teleported to where my breakfast had been a moment before. I wiggled my toes and found that, yes indeed, Ava had managed to make me take them off. Very impressive.
Next to me, Charlotte giggled like mad. “Your face!!” she laughed, pointing. “You look so resigned! Ha!”
So Ava had ‘won’ that bet too then.
“Come on.” Ava said standing up. “Let’s go find my body.”
“But I haven’t eaten yet!” I grumbled.
“I ate it for you!” laughed Ava, “Come on, Charlotte’s exhausted and I don’t want to stay in her a moment longer than I have to.”
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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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Thomas was a science genius, but wasn't all that good at interacting with other people. After inventing a machine that helped him to slip into a different plane of reality, he decided to use his newfound abilites in there to possess his old high school teacher. Will he be able deal with a female body, or will this new power corrupt him?
Arguably, Thomas was what one could describe as a once in a generation genius. Of course, most people wouldn’t, but that was because he was more likely to just laze around and do nothing, than to do anything remotely impressive.
He had always had trouble focusing, so he often just flitted between different projects which had caught his fancy. He tried to always finish them eventually, at least as proof of concept, but the few people he had in his life were more likely to see them as disjointed masses of wires and metal they spent most time as, than as the miraculous pieces of technology they really were once finished.
What enabled this, was a little machine that used quantum fluctuations to create pieces and components for anything he needed. He had invented it when he was 14, and all it took to create almost anything he needed was the electricity to power it.
As far as he knew, Thomas was almost self-sufficient. He could sate any biological need with his machine, and any intellectual need by inventing new things. The one big problem he had was social interaction.
Thomas was a perfect example of the introverted genius, and had a lot of trouble interacting with other people outside his family, and a few childhood friends who still kept in touch. It was with that in mind that he invented a Plane Displacer.
While at first glance, a simple modification of his older Teleporter, instead of changing his location on the space axis, the Plane Displacer changed him to a different plane of existence altogether. As far as the normal world knew, while using the machine, Thomas ceased to exist.
The first time he used it, Thomas was amazed. It looked like a copy of his usual world plane, except the sky was gone, the colors looked glowy, and most textures seemed blurry to his eyes. On the other hand, people looked like they usually did, only with a negative filter applied. He had made sure to jump into a plane just out of sync with his own so he could peep at anyone he wanted undetected, so while he could see and hear anyone, the same couldn’t be said about them.
He even thought for a while to call the machine a Ghost Portal, but found it to be a little too dramatic.
He figured that by snooping around, he could study people, and if he learnt enough, he could be as sociable as anyone else! Of course, after a month of experimentation, he came to a very surprising conclusion. Looking at people interacting was not enough to learn how to do it himself, at all!
Thomas was very dejected. His master plan did not work, so maybe he should start working on something else to take his mind out of his failure.
While on the other side, he had quite a few observations. While he could usually interact normally with anything in the normal world, they were harder to do the more people were around him. Lifting a plastic cup was easy while alone, felt like lifting a dumbbell with one person, and was an actual herculean task with more people. Likewise, while he could, with some effort, cross through solid objects, people were solid, and unmovable. The tallest walls couldn’t hold him, but crowds were as good as bunkers.
All of these little pieces of information painted quite the weird picture. It was almost like Ghost Portal was a much more apt name than he thought, so he decided to put it to the test. He spent a whole week studying and researching anything ghosts could do in fiction, and had started lining up an experimentation map.
By setting out various tools to collect data in the real world around the town, courtesy of his Teleporter, he knew he could start.
Thomas was anxious, while he was used to using the machine, this was the first time he would use it to do anything completely new. The thought that he somehow found a way into some sort of Astral Realm was exciting.
He spent the entire day conducting smaller experiments. The temperature in rooms he was alone in, while in the secondary plane, was a few degrees lower than they were before he entered them, though even one other person was enough to take it back to what it used to be. Whenever he interacted with objects for enough time, either by handling them, or by walking through walls, some weird sort of condensation usually started to happen on the surfaces he touched. Sadly, he did not manage to fly, but did fall noticeably slower than expected.
It certainly looked like while he was in this other plane, he worked like one would expect of a ghost.
After returning to the normal world, Thomas collected some of the weird condensation on a few surfaces of his house. He did some tests on them, and came to the conclusion that they weren’t made of anything. It didn’t match any sort of element, or chemical compound he knew. It was something that truly came from the secondary plane, since it did match its unique background radiation signature.
Thomas was lucky that the sample observer in his Matter Creator still worked in it, meaning he could generate even more of the curious substance.
He found that by having canisters of the pale, glowy substance around in the primary plane, his ghostly abilities would be strengthened. Where before he would need to have as few people around as possible to move any object, by hiding a few liters of the glowy liquid in a classroom, he could confidently do a poltergeist impression. He could even fly while holding one such bottle, though he did notice the substance would rapidly evaporate while in the secondary plane, meaning he couldn’t do it for long.
This all but cemented it. He had somehow found some sort of astral plane, and so, he labeled the weird substance ectoplasm.
—————————————————————————————————————————
Thomas was having the time of his life. Between all of the miraculous things he had invented, this was by far the most exciting one, he found. With enough ectoplasm, he found he could do almost anything ghosts were supposed to do, meaning he could probably possess other people, so his original purpose for inventing the Plane Displacer could still work out!
Of course, all that enthusiasm wasn’t enough, he discovered. He could still not find the necessary amount of ectoplasm for people to stop being as hard as steel. Placing canisters in the room didn’t work, and neither did covering himself in it, so he had to be missing something.
Eventually, he made sure to sneak secret canisters of ectoplasm all around the town. He had spent a good while generating liters and liters of it, and after determining the radius each bottle would still keep empowering him, he used the Teleporter to place them in such a way that he’d always be close enough to at least two canisters.
He had gotten a lot of surprises while teleporting them, since not every hiding place was filled with air at the time, some being underground, and at least one sending him back an equivalent volume of dirty water and mud.
After finishing it he noticed a distinct change in the Astral Plane. Where before he couldn’t see the sky, there was now a slight mist above the town, and instead of looking like a negative colored version of themselves, people now looked more gray-scaled.
He could now touch them! He had spent a whole afternoon just pushing and tripping people around!
Still, that didn’t help him with his main objective. He could still not find any way to get himself inside another human being.
He was mulling that exact problem, as he walked around the town, when he noticed something. He had thoughtlessly walked to a public pool, when he noticed the weird seam in their backs of the people in the water.
He had never seen anything like it, but he supposed that he had interacted exclusively with clothed people. He walked around the pool, searching for someone sunbathing. After a few minutes, he found the perfect test subject.
Laying face down, was an older woman, she was wearing a striped bikini bottom, hiding her somewhat large ass, and her top was untied, so as to not mark her skin. Her hair was short, and her face was still beautiful, though clearly getting to her early 50s, and in her back, he could see the seam, in all its glory.
She seemed to be snoring softly, so Thomas wasn’t afraid to gently touch her back, so he found it intriguing, how even with the seam, by passing his hand across it, her skin felt as smooth as any normal human would. By pressing down though, he could slowly insert his hand into her back, until he felt something warm pushing back. He grabbed it, and pulled.
After he managed to pull it out completely, he had a baseball sized flaming sphere, and though it radiated a warm orange light, it felt cool to his touch. The woman’s body had completely ceased any motion beyond breathing. Once he let go of it, the sphere floated where he left it, leaving him free to place his hands inside the woman’s back seam.
At first nothing had happened, but slowly he started to feel something different. The woman had been laying face down, and was resting her head on her arms. The first thing he noticed was a strange weight on the parts of his arms he used to enter her. Then he saw that by moving his fingers, the unconscious woman would mimic his movements.
That made Thomas extremely happy, finally he found out how to possess other people. All he needed to do was to extract what seemed to be their souls, and he’d have full reign to use their bodies to his own designs.
After removing his hands from the woman, he made sure to give her a chaste kiss on the lips as thanks, and before replacing her soul, he decided to do the same to the spirit. But the moment his lips touched its surface, he was overwhelmed by different sensations.
For a moment, he wasn’t Thomas, boy genius extraordinaire, he was Christina, having a great time in the pool. She had little time to relax these days, what with helping her children to take care of their own children. Today had been a beautiful sunny day, and she wasn’t on babysitting duty, so she had decided to come to the pool, swim around for a while, and once the sun was more subdued, she’d sunbathe for a while.
Christina was happy she had 5 beautiful grandchildren, but they were a handful, so she couldn’t pass the opportunity to take some time to herse- Immediately Thomas jumped back, letting go of Christina’s soul, scared, from all the alien feelings he felt while it touched his lips.
He had been her, and could see her memories and deepest desires for a bit. Thomas wasn’t sure what to make of it. He quickly replaced her soul inside the seam, and after checking to see if she was back to normal, he went back to his home.
This changed everything, he needed to do some more experiments.
—————————————————————————————————————————
After an entire week testing things out, Thomas was almost sure he knew how this worked. He hadn’t yet possessed anyone fully. He wanted his first time to be special, and he already knew the target.
His testing let him know that removing someone’s soul was harder, depending on the person’s willpower. Unconscious people were the easier, while conscious headstrong people were the hardest. He surmised that if he wanted to enjoy someone's day he’d have to get there early, before they woke up.
He had also learnt how to deal with his host’s soul. He could ingest it, to receive all of the person’s memories, thoughts, and abilities. That, by itself, was almost enough to solve his problem, but he really didn’t want to test what would happen if he took a spirit back to the primary world, and any social skills he received from the spirit would go back once he let it go back to its body.
He had gone back to Christina’s house a few times for testing, having learned where it was from the minute he spent connected with her back at the pool. There, he also found that as long as he took it out first, he could reinsert the spirit, with his arms inside her. She wasn’t really sure why she was fondling herself, but she did nothing to stop herself from doing it, and whenever he relaxed the arm, she could use it as normal.
He had hoped it meant that as long as he kept their souls within himself, he could just ride along with the host. Sure, he could probably play their part to an uncanny degree, but that didn’t mean he wanted to do their work, or interact with every person they had to.
All of that testing culminated in his current location. It was 4 in the morning, and he was currently in the process of breaking into the apartment of one ms. Ashley Black. She had been a young teacher of his, when he was still in high school, and had quite the crush on her. The young physics teacher had been the single most beautiful woman Thomas had seen, and also the smartest one. She was so much better than him at her chosen subjects, that he felt like he was hypnotized whenever he had any discussion together with her.
Sadly, though young, she was still 8 years his senior, so she had never seen him as anything other than a particularly gifted student of hers. Ashley had shoulder length hair, and though her breasts weren’t very big, she had an amazing set of hips, and that, coupled with her thin waist, and round derriere was the envy of all the women in the school.
It had been a warm day, and so she left the window open,that way, the cooler air of the night could enter, and by being high above the ground, no one could use it to enter her room. That, of course, didn’t take into account the 21-year-old almost-ghost boy that could fly somewhat.
He got to her room and saw her in all her naked glory. He was seeing things he had desired for so long, that he was almost emotional. The thin blonde woman had a neat pair of small breasts, big enough to fit comfortably in her palms, but not to cause any back pain, and her pussy was framed by a well trimmed landing strip of hair. Once again, he felt hypnotized by this woman, though for different reasons this time.
After admiring her, he quickly got to work. He gently spun her so she would be on her back. He was glad she wasn’t wearing a top, or any sort of bra, taking it off would be another whole other beast, one that he didn’t want to deal with if he could.
Her back turned to the sky, Thomas gently ran his fingers over the seam on Ashley’s back, before inserting his whole hand inside, looking for the teacher’s soul. It wasn’t long before he found it, and pulled it free from her body.
While Christina’s soul was a gentle orange color, and looked like a little ball of flames, Ashley’s radiated a sharp cyan neon light, and looked almost solid. Thomas was anxious now, Christina’s felt softer, so he had no trouble swallowing it, but this one was hard, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it inside him.
Still, he brought the bright soul to his lips, and just like his other experiences, the moment he touched it, he was almost overwhelmed by the memories.
Ashley was dreading the coming weeks. While still calm, tests and papers that she’d have to grade were right around the corner. It was with that in mind that she was doing her best to fully enjoy herself at home. She was truly lucky that tonight had been a fresh night. She always loved the way that the cold wind contrasted with the warmth of the day this time of the year.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat sad at not having any company. She had friends and colleagues, but hadn’t really dated anyone for a while, meaning that beyond small talk during work, and her students, her only opportunities to speak with other people was during the rare occasions that her friends had some kind of break from their workplaces. It was rough having a schedule that was incompatible with anyone she might’ve wanted to hang out with.
Thomas was surprised, though it was easier] to disconnect himself from them. compared with Christina, Ashley’s memories and thoughts hit him like a freight truck. He imagined she either had a stronger personality force, or maybe it was because she was younger, but he was worried. It wouldn’t be good for him if he lost himself in her.
So since he still had some time, he decided to just take her body for a spin. Later, he’d take her soul into himself, and would be her during the day. He gently set the soul inside one of her bedside table’s drawers, and prepared himself.
There was a certain erotic thrill at becoming someone he had admired for so long. Gone would be the awkward young man, replaced by the young, sexy high school teacher.
He climbed in her bed, and spread her back seam open. He was lucky he didn’t need to match any body part, just climb inside, otherwise he’d have a lot of trouble, what with her laying on her stomach.
First he inserted his feet. The nothing he could feel inside was quickly replaced by the soft bed sheets. He slowly dropped down inside her back, almost like entering a pool, but instead of his body getting used to the cold water, his body was slowly changing into Ashley Black.
All that was left was his chest, arms and head. It felt weird to have half his body laying down on a bed, and the other straight up, but he was still giddy at feeling his new genitalia. It was certainly different from having a cock.Hungry for the feel of the whole body, he let go of her sides, and dove deep into Ashley’s back.
Ashley’s eyes opened up. She rolled on the bed, exposing her breasts to the air, the warm flesh quickly getting goosebumps. Likewise, her nipples stood proud and erect, leading her hands to them.
Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel. Wearing Ashley’s body like that made him feel so sensual, like he had never before. Touching his first pair of breasts was nothing like he ever expected it to be. Ashley’s small breasts were soft and sensitive, like he had two giant marshmallows in his chest, only they were so very much responsive. Just lightly caressing her nipples felt divine.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, marveling at his new skin. Ashley’s skin was smooth and hairless, and nowhere was that more evident than in her legs. Thomas’ legs were hairy, and pale, but Ashley’s were smooth and toned. He stood up, and went to turn on the lights.
Thomas had to admit, no matter how hot he thought being his high school crush was, looking at himself in the mirror like this was freaky. Not only was walking around harder, from the different gravity center, and length of their legs, everything felt bigger, and just that bit farther than they were supposed to.
The discomfort was such that he quickly decided to leave. He figured that doing this with her soul would feel better, so he turned off the light, before laying back down in the bed.
Leaving was a lot harder than it was to get in. It took 5 long minutes of concentrating for him to feel the seam in his new body’s back, and managing to get his old one from inside it. After he left, he was breathless, and his muscles ached, like he went through the most intense work out of his life.
He took a few minutes for himself, before recovering Ashley’s soul. After confirming that it was indeed possible to possess another person's body, he was anxious to fully embody Ashley.
In a fit of courage, Thomas placed Ashley’s soul inside his mouth, and swallowed it at once. Just as he thought, it didn’t go down as smooth as Christine’s, but once it reached his belly, he could already feel the second set of memories inside his head. At once he could now access all of her personality and mannerisms.
With that, he once again went towards her body. Instead of carefully slipping inside it, like his first time, after spreading the seam open, he just plunged inside, so as to be as fast as possible, and just like that, he blacked out.
—————————————————————————————————————————
It was 6 in the morning when Ashley’s alarm clock rang. Sleepily she turned it off, before going towards her bathroom for a quick shower. Before leaving her room, her eyes laid on her own body in the mirror. It was strange, like she was unfamiliar with the body she held her entire life.
“Am I getting fat, or something? Weird…”, mumbled the blonde. Even her voice felt a little different than what she expected
Still, she had to go to work, so she needed to take a bath. Entering the bathroom, she looked close at her face, checking for anything outside its place. Finding nothing, she turned on the shower, and took a lock of hair, and brought it to her nose. For some reason, beyond the all around weirdness she felt when looking at herself, she couldn’t help but wonder at how good she smelled today. After a quick sniff under her arms, she entered the shower.
It was as if every time her hands got close to her breasts, ass or pussy, they lingered a little bit more than she usually did. Looking down, she couldn’t help but notice that despite their petite size, her boobs did indeed have a nice shape, immediately beginning to fondle herself.
“Huuh…” she moaned softly. Her breasts had always been sensitive, but this morning it was like they were on fire.
Each second she spent grabbing her tits, and gently pinching her nipples, her arousal grew, making the warm water from the shower feel better and better on her skin, and before long, her hands snaked downwards, towards her pussy.
By how warm her insides felt, she knew that if she wasn’t wet from the shower, she’d be sopping down there. She expertly massaged her outer lips, before going for the true prize. By now, Ashley was so aroused, that just pinching her clit once, she came.
She tried to hold onto the crashing wave of pleasure for as long as she could, proficiently inserting her fingers into her vagina, pressing on her sweetest spot. Still, it wasn’t long before she finished, and a wave of clarity hit her.
She quickly finished showering, grabbing her towel, and drying herself. As she went to the sink to brush her teeth, she couldn’t help but notice that any weirdness about her appearance had vanished. Maybe she had been more pent up than she expected?
—————————————————————————————————————————
Ashley had spent the day as normal as she could. After leaving her home, she went to work. This morning she had a few different physics classes to teach, and during the afternoon she’d be in the teacher’s lounge, planning some tests for her classes.
She had always been uncomfortable with how many men, both faculty and students shamelessly looked at her ass, but supposed that it was the occupational hazard of being a young attractive teacher, the next youngest of her colleagues being 8 years older than her. Today though? All she could feel was a weird sense of excitement in knowing that men desired her.
After she finished her classes, Ashley was at the teacher’s lounge drinking some coffee before going back to work, when in came Clarice Carter. Before Ashley got hired, she had been the youngest teacher in the school, so they got very well together.
Despite looking very motherly, the taller woman had no kids. Today, her wavy chocolate hair was loosely tied down, keeping with her theme. She liked wearing comfortable clothes, so Despite having an almost amazonian build, it was very well hidden from most people. Apparently she had first started going to the gym to impress a girl she was interested in, and after it ended, she just kept going.
“Hey Ash, are you done for the day?”
“Just taking a break, gotta finish some tests for one of my classes. What about you?”
“Oh, I have a few more classes before I’m done, thankfully it’s a quiet one”, said Clarice, pouring coffee for herself.
“Oooh, I wish my last class of the day had been one of the nice ones. Were we that bad when we were younger?”
“Well, I can’t say about you, but I was a little angel”, smirked the older woman.
“Ah, yes, all of those poor boys that got beaten up by the angry tall girl will surely agree”, jested the blonde.
“Well, they shouldn’t have picked on me then”, answered Clarice in fake outrage. “Anyways, it was good talking with you today, but I gotta go back to class”, setting her mug on the sink.
“Hey, do you wanna go for a drink tonight, with me?” suddenly asked Ashley, surprising even herself.
“Oh? I’m free tonight, yeah, do you have a place in mind?”
“Ugh, my… house?” said the confused blonde.
“How forward of you, ms. Black. It’s a date then, see you later”, answered the brunette, before leaving.
“What the fuck…” said Ashley. She hadn’t been planning on asking Clarice out. She briefly remembered that sense of weirdness she felt that morning. Was she going insane? She hoped not, but it felt like today she wasn’t in full control of herself, which was worrying.
Still, she had some more work to do, she could get worried after finishing her obligations of the day.
—————————————————————————————————————————
It was 5 in the afternoon, and Ashley was now going back to her house. She knew that Clarice would only leave the school at 6, so she had enough time to deal with some of her house’s mess. She had bought some beers and wine, since she wasn’t sure what Clarice would want to drink.
Arriving at her apartment, she placed the beverages in the fridge, before getting changed. Once again, after she got rid of her work clothes, her eyes resisted leaving her bare skin. She had to admit that she was actually pretty hot, her slender upper body thickening well into her hips and ass, and then tapering into her long legs.
She resisted the urge to play with herself again, she had a house to ready for a guest after all, so she got dressed, and started tidying up.
She ended up having a whole hour before Clarice arrived. It was already dark outside when the taller woman entered the building, and Ashley really wasn’t expecting what she saw.
While at school Clarice tended to wear soft or dark colors, often in sweaters and skirts with tights underneath, or larger shirts, tonight she was wearing a simple white shirt and jeans. While intellectually she knew what Clarice’s build actually was underneath her clothes, seeing her ample bosom and wide hips for the first time shocked her a little.
She was almost hypnotized by the larger woman’s figure, and could feel herself slowly moistening at the sight of those generous globes.
“Hey. Ash? Ash!” exclaimed the older woman.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, please come in”, hurriedly said the blonde.
All things considered, they had a pleasant evening. Ashley had drunk a few cups of wine, while Clairce kept to the beer. After they finished the dinner Ashley prepared, Clarice couldn’t help but ask.
“So, what’s your deal? We’ve known each other for a while, and you never striked me as a someone batting for the same team”
“Well, I don’t think I am? At least not usually, but today has been a very unusual day.”
“Not that I’m complaining, you’re cute and all, but if you’re trying to use me for any dumb reason you better tell me, cause if I find out you’re bouncing back from a bad break up, and using me for that, I’ll be quite mad.”
“Ugh, it's not that. I think I'm experimenting? I’ve never been with a woman before, and to be honest, I hadn’t ever planned before today, but something about you today made me think that I should look into it,” sheepishly explained the blonde. “Also, you’re the only lesbian I know, so if anyone could help me explore it’d be you.”
“Huh, that’s a first for me, I guess. Welp, from how long your eyes have been in my tits, I guess we better start soon, then. Just try not to make this weird later,” said the brunette, sultrily, crawling over her coworker, her hands snaking beneath her clothes.
Ashley hadn’t been expecting that. Different from her past boyfriends and one night stands, Clarice’s larger hands massaged her breasts very gently. She took off the smaller woman’s clothes, careful not to damage them, and kissed her all the way, from her lips, down her neck, to her nipples, her belly, and finally to her lower lips.
Clarice didn’t usually go for the girly types, but she could see the appeal. As a teacher, Ashley was quite headstrong, but right now, under her care, she looked so small, like an inexperienced kitten. She couldn’t help but notice that she had a distinctive smell tonight, different from what she usually did at school.
Clarice had always been sensitive to those things. Small, almost imperceptible changes on someone’s odor could tell a lot about how they were that day. Most people found it creepy, but having super smelling powers was something she had found useful all her life.
If she didn’t know better, it was like Ashley’s usual aroma was tinged by something she usually felt from young men, and for some reason, she found that to be intoxicating.
Her coworker tasted heavenly, she found, when her ministrations got to her pussy. She had quite the cute one, her lips were just the right size, and the way she moaned every time her tongue went inside her depths did things to herself that she wouldn’t dare to speak of.
Eventually, Ashley had gotten to her climax. The blonde’s legs shut tightly, with the brunette’s head between them, so Clarice made sure to lick as much of the younger woman’s juices as she could.
Ashley had to give it to Clarice. She knew that today had been quite an unusual day, the whole masturbation session in the morning felt better than any other time she pleasured herself, but her coworker’s oral sex had felt so much better than any other time she had sex that she couldn’t believe it. Still, she had to give back to her, so after letting the larger woman go from her legs, she immediately went on the offensive.
Clarice’s lips tasted different now than like they did during their first kiss a few moments ago. She supposed that was her own taste in her lover’s mouth. For some reason, that made her so much hungrier for the taller brunette’s body, that she could barely hold herself.
She pawed at her large breasts forcefully, pushing her down on the couch. She made sure to suckle on her large nipples, licking her skin, tasting her sweat. She was so hot right now. This big and strong woman was letting her manhandle her, as easily she wanted. God, she could almost say she was in love with her body.
While her skin felt as smooth and soft as Ashley’s, the musculature underneath a nice and plushy layer of fat made her body feel so luscious to the touch, that she almost wanted to press herself into her body, until she could just slip inside and completely merge with her.
But since that was impossible, she settled for the second best thing, she lowered herself to Clarice’s shaved pussy. She had never seen a vagina from so close, but she had an idea of what to do, so she went to work.
She inserted her fingers into the other woman’s needy hole, while her lips dedicated themselves to the older woman’s clitoris. She tried to maintain a consistent rhythm between focusing on each part, so she kept going, until her face got sprayed with her co worker's juices.
—————————————————————————————————————————
A few hours into the night, both tired and thoroughly fucked women slept peacefully. After both had first orgasmed, they moved themselves to Ashley’s room, and there, they kept playing with each other’s body for as long as they could keep awake.
Surprisingly, Ashley had kept awake for a little longer than Clarice did. She knew that for some reason, she couldn’t afford to sleep before her companion. After she made sure the brunette was asleep, she started concentrating. Just like that, her head hit the pillow, back turned to the ceiling.
A Seam slowly opened in Ashley’s back, and Thomas crawled out of it as carefully as he could.
He was tired. Unlike the first time he used Ashley’s body by itself, it wasn’t any sort of physical tiredness, but mental exhaustion. He could barely describe his experience living her life for a day. During some moments, it was like he couldn’t tell where she began and he ended, and during others he was just sitting down, deep inside her mind, making as little noise as he could.
The sheer pleasure women’s bodies were capable of was something he wasn’t ready to feel when he first woke up today, but it was wonderful. Each tender touch to one of her breasts felt like massaging his penis’ head, and he could barely describe how it felt to have a tongue deep inside her vagina, or her clitoris stimulated.
All around, the feeling of embodying such an attractive woman was the best part. He could feel her mind flowing between his own while he was being her, and that was the best part of all. He could have her all for himself during it, in ways that even just keeping her soul inside himself didn’t compare.
But all good things had to end, and he couldn’t keep stealing someone else’s life like that, so he quickly let go of Ashley’s soul, the small sphere slowly phasing through his belly, and resting in his hands.
He placed it inside Ashley’s body, somewhat sad to let go of it, and that he couldn’t stay here to see how she’d be after all of that influence he had on her yesterday.
At least he did, until his eyes settled on the other woman in the room.
He didn’t really know Clarice, didn’t have a deeper connection with her, like he did with Ashley. But he supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to keep watching them for at least one more day.
Besides, if he needed to, he could just get her to a bathroom, and leave whenever he wanted to. Yeah, why wouldn’t he enjoy the larger woman.
And so, with a grin on his face, he slowly reached into the brunette’s back, firmly grasping her soul. He would make sure to keep experimenting.
Arguably, Thomas was what one could describe as a once in a generation genius. Of course, most people wouldn’t, but that was because he was more likely to just laze around and do nothing, than to do anything remotely impressive.
He had always had trouble focusing, so he often just flitted between different projects which had caught his fancy. He tried to always finish them eventually, at least as proof of concept, but the few people he had in his life were more likely to see them as disjointed masses of wires and metal they spent most time as, than as the miraculous pieces of technology they really were once finished.
What enabled this, was a little machine that used quantum fluctuations to create pieces and components for anything he needed. He had invented it when he was 14, and all it took to create almost anything he needed was the electricity to power it.
As far as he knew, Thomas was almost self-sufficient. He could sate any biological need with his machine, and any intellectual need by inventing new things. The one big problem he had was social interaction.
Thomas was a perfect example of the introverted genius, and had a lot of trouble interacting with other people outside his family, and a few childhood friends who still kept in touch. It was with that in mind that he invented a Plane Displacer.
While at first glance, a simple modification of his older Teleporter, instead of changing his location on the space axis, the Plane Displacer changed him to a different plane of existence altogether. As far as the normal world knew, while using the machine, Thomas ceased to exist.
The first time he used it, Thomas was amazed. It looked like a copy of his usual world plane, except the sky was gone, the colors looked glowy, and most textures seemed blurry to his eyes. On the other hand, people looked like they usually did, only with a negative filter applied. He had made sure to jump into a plane just out of sync with his own so he could peep at anyone he wanted undetected, so while he could see and hear anyone, the same couldn’t be said about them.
He even thought for a while to call the machine a Ghost Portal, but found it to be a little too dramatic.
He figured that by snooping around, he could study people, and if he learnt enough, he could be as sociable as anyone else! Of course, after a month of experimentation, he came to a very surprising conclusion. Looking at people interacting was not enough to learn how to do it himself, at all!
Thomas was very dejected. His master plan did not work, so maybe he should start working on something else to take his mind out of his failure.
While on the other side, he had quite a few observations. While he could usually interact normally with anything in the normal world, they were harder to do the more people were around him. Lifting a plastic cup was easy while alone, felt like lifting a dumbbell with one person, and was an actual herculean task with more people. Likewise, while he could, with some effort, cross through solid objects, people were solid, and unmovable. The tallest walls couldn’t hold him, but crowds were as good as bunkers.
All of these little pieces of information painted quite the weird picture. It was almost like Ghost Portal was a much more apt name than he thought, so he decided to put it to the test. He spent a whole week studying and researching anything ghosts could do in fiction, and had started lining up an experimentation map.
By setting out various tools to collect data in the real world around the town, courtesy of his Teleporter, he knew he could start.
Thomas was anxious, while he was used to using the machine, this was the first time he would use it to do anything completely new. The thought that he somehow found a way into some sort of Astral Realm was exciting.
He spent the entire day conducting smaller experiments. The temperature in rooms he was alone in, while in the secondary plane, was a few degrees lower than they were before he entered them, though even one other person was enough to take it back to what it used to be. Whenever he interacted with objects for enough time, either by handling them, or by walking through walls, some weird sort of condensation usually started to happen on the surfaces he touched. Sadly, he did not manage to fly, but did fall noticeably slower than expected.
It certainly looked like while he was in this other plane, he worked like one would expect of a ghost.
After returning to the normal world, Thomas collected some of the weird condensation on a few surfaces of his house. He did some tests on them, and came to the conclusion that they weren’t made of anything. It didn’t match any sort of element, or chemical compound he knew. It was something that truly came from the secondary plane, since it did match its unique background radiation signature.
Thomas was lucky that the sample observer in his Matter Creator still worked in it, meaning he could generate even more of the curious substance.
He found that by having canisters of the pale, glowy substance around in the primary plane, his ghostly abilities would be strengthened. Where before he would need to have as few people around as possible to move any object, by hiding a few liters of the glowy liquid in a classroom, he could confidently do a poltergeist impression. He could even fly while holding one such bottle, though he did notice the substance would rapidly evaporate while in the secondary plane, meaning he couldn’t do it for long.
This all but cemented it. He had somehow found some sort of astral plane, and so, he labeled the weird substance ectoplasm.
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Thomas was having the time of his life. Between all of the miraculous things he had invented, this was by far the most exciting one, he found. With enough ectoplasm, he found he could do almost anything ghosts were supposed to do, meaning he could probably possess other people, so his original purpose for inventing the Plane Displacer could still work out!
Of course, all that enthusiasm wasn’t enough, he discovered. He could still not find the necessary amount of ectoplasm for people to stop being as hard as steel. Placing canisters in the room didn’t work, and neither did covering himself in it, so he had to be missing something.
Eventually, he made sure to sneak secret canisters of ectoplasm all around the town. He had spent a good while generating liters and liters of it, and after determining the radius each bottle would still keep empowering him, he used the Teleporter to place them in such a way that he’d always be close enough to at least two canisters.
He had gotten a lot of surprises while teleporting them, since not every hiding place was filled with air at the time, some being underground, and at least one sending him back an equivalent volume of dirty water and mud.
After finishing it he noticed a distinct change in the Astral Plane. Where before he couldn’t see the sky, there was now a slight mist above the town, and instead of looking like a negative colored version of themselves, people now looked more gray-scaled.
He could now touch them! He had spent a whole afternoon just pushing and tripping people around!
Still, that didn’t help him with his main objective. He could still not find any way to get himself inside another human being.
He was mulling that exact problem, as he walked around the town, when he noticed something. He had thoughtlessly walked to a public pool, when he noticed the weird seam in their backs of the people in the water.
He had never seen anything like it, but he supposed that he had interacted exclusively with clothed people. He walked around the pool, searching for someone sunbathing. After a few minutes, he found the perfect test subject.
Laying face down, was an older woman, she was wearing a striped bikini bottom, hiding her somewhat large ass, and her top was untied, so as to not mark her skin. Her hair was short, and her face was still beautiful, though clearly getting to her early 50s, and in her back, he could see the seam, in all its glory.
She seemed to be snoring softly, so Thomas wasn’t afraid to gently touch her back, so he found it intriguing, how even with the seam, by passing his hand across it, her skin felt as smooth as any normal human would. By pressing down though, he could slowly insert his hand into her back, until he felt something warm pushing back. He grabbed it, and pulled.
After he managed to pull it out completely, he had a baseball sized flaming sphere, and though it radiated a warm orange light, it felt cool to his touch. The woman’s body had completely ceased any motion beyond breathing. Once he let go of it, the sphere floated where he left it, leaving him free to place his hands inside the woman’s back seam.
At first nothing had happened, but slowly he started to feel something different. The woman had been laying face down, and was resting her head on her arms. The first thing he noticed was a strange weight on the parts of his arms he used to enter her. Then he saw that by moving his fingers, the unconscious woman would mimic his movements.
That made Thomas extremely happy, finally he found out how to possess other people. All he needed to do was to extract what seemed to be their souls, and he’d have full reign to use their bodies to his own designs.
After removing his hands from the woman, he made sure to give her a chaste kiss on the lips as thanks, and before replacing her soul, he decided to do the same to the spirit. But the moment his lips touched its surface, he was overwhelmed by different sensations.
For a moment, he wasn’t Thomas, boy genius extraordinaire, he was Christina, having a great time in the pool. She had little time to relax these days, what with helping her children to take care of their own children. Today had been a beautiful sunny day, and she wasn’t on babysitting duty, so she had decided to come to the pool, swim around for a while, and once the sun was more subdued, she’d sunbathe for a while.
Christina was happy she had 5 beautiful grandchildren, but they were a handful, so she couldn’t pass the opportunity to take some time to herse- Immediately Thomas jumped back, letting go of Christina’s soul, scared, from all the alien feelings he felt while it touched his lips.
He had been her, and could see her memories and deepest desires for a bit. Thomas wasn’t sure what to make of it. He quickly replaced her soul inside the seam, and after checking to see if she was back to normal, he went back to his home.
This changed everything, he needed to do some more experiments.
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After an entire week testing things out, Thomas was almost sure he knew how this worked. He hadn’t yet possessed anyone fully. He wanted his first time to be special, and he already knew the target.
His testing let him know that removing someone’s soul was harder, depending on the person’s willpower. Unconscious people were the easier, while conscious headstrong people were the hardest. He surmised that if he wanted to enjoy someone's day he’d have to get there early, before they woke up.
He had also learnt how to deal with his host’s soul. He could ingest it, to receive all of the person’s memories, thoughts, and abilities. That, by itself, was almost enough to solve his problem, but he really didn’t want to test what would happen if he took a spirit back to the primary world, and any social skills he received from the spirit would go back once he let it go back to its body.
He had gone back to Christina’s house a few times for testing, having learned where it was from the minute he spent connected with her back at the pool. There, he also found that as long as he took it out first, he could reinsert the spirit, with his arms inside her. She wasn’t really sure why she was fondling herself, but she did nothing to stop herself from doing it, and whenever he relaxed the arm, she could use it as normal.
He had hoped it meant that as long as he kept their souls within himself, he could just ride along with the host. Sure, he could probably play their part to an uncanny degree, but that didn’t mean he wanted to do their work, or interact with every person they had to.
All of that testing culminated in his current location. It was 4 in the morning, and he was currently in the process of breaking into the apartment of one ms. Ashley Black. She had been a young teacher of his, when he was still in high school, and had quite the crush on her. The young physics teacher had been the single most beautiful woman Thomas had seen, and also the smartest one. She was so much better than him at her chosen subjects, that he felt like he was hypnotized whenever he had any discussion together with her.
Sadly, though young, she was still 8 years his senior, so she had never seen him as anything other than a particularly gifted student of hers. Ashley had shoulder length hair, and though her breasts weren’t very big, she had an amazing set of hips, and that, coupled with her thin waist, and round derriere was the envy of all the women in the school.
It had been a warm day, and so she left the window open,that way, the cooler air of the night could enter, and by being high above the ground, no one could use it to enter her room. That, of course, didn’t take into account the 21-year-old almost-ghost boy that could fly somewhat.
He got to her room and saw her in all her naked glory. He was seeing things he had desired for so long, that he was almost emotional. The thin blonde woman had a neat pair of small breasts, big enough to fit comfortably in her palms, but not to cause any back pain, and her pussy was framed by a well trimmed landing strip of hair. Once again, he felt hypnotized by this woman, though for different reasons this time.
After admiring her, he quickly got to work. He gently spun her so she would be on her back. He was glad she wasn’t wearing a top, or any sort of bra, taking it off would be another whole other beast, one that he didn’t want to deal with if he could.
Her back turned to the sky, Thomas gently ran his fingers over the seam on Ashley’s back, before inserting his whole hand inside, looking for the teacher’s soul. It wasn’t long before he found it, and pulled it free from her body.
While Christina’s soul was a gentle orange color, and looked like a little ball of flames, Ashley’s radiated a sharp cyan neon light, and looked almost solid. Thomas was anxious now, Christina’s felt softer, so he had no trouble swallowing it, but this one was hard, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it inside him.
Still, he brought the bright soul to his lips, and just like his other experiences, the moment he touched it, he was almost overwhelmed by the memories.
Ashley was dreading the coming weeks. While still calm, tests and papers that she’d have to grade were right around the corner. It was with that in mind that she was doing her best to fully enjoy herself at home. She was truly lucky that tonight had been a fresh night. She always loved the way that the cold wind contrasted with the warmth of the day this time of the year.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat sad at not having any company. She had friends and colleagues, but hadn’t really dated anyone for a while, meaning that beyond small talk during work, and her students, her only opportunities to speak with other people was during the rare occasions that her friends had some kind of break from their workplaces. It was rough having a schedule that was incompatible with anyone she might’ve wanted to hang out with.
Thomas was surprised, though it was easier] to disconnect himself from them. compared with Christina, Ashley’s memories and thoughts hit him like a freight truck. He imagined she either had a stronger personality force, or maybe it was because she was younger, but he was worried. It wouldn’t be good for him if he lost himself in her.
So since he still had some time, he decided to just take her body for a spin. Later, he’d take her soul into himself, and would be her during the day. He gently set the soul inside one of her bedside table’s drawers, and prepared himself.
There was a certain erotic thrill at becoming someone he had admired for so long. Gone would be the awkward young man, replaced by the young, sexy high school teacher.
He climbed in her bed, and spread her back seam open. He was lucky he didn’t need to match any body part, just climb inside, otherwise he’d have a lot of trouble, what with her laying on her stomach.
First he inserted his feet. The nothing he could feel inside was quickly replaced by the soft bed sheets. He slowly dropped down inside her back, almost like entering a pool, but instead of his body getting used to the cold water, his body was slowly changing into Ashley Black.
All that was left was his chest, arms and head. It felt weird to have half his body laying down on a bed, and the other straight up, but he was still giddy at feeling his new genitalia. It was certainly different from having a cock.Hungry for the feel of the whole body, he let go of her sides, and dove deep into Ashley’s back.
Ashley’s eyes opened up. She rolled on the bed, exposing her breasts to the air, the warm flesh quickly getting goosebumps. Likewise, her nipples stood proud and erect, leading her hands to them.
Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel. Wearing Ashley’s body like that made him feel so sensual, like he had never before. Touching his first pair of breasts was nothing like he ever expected it to be. Ashley’s small breasts were soft and sensitive, like he had two giant marshmallows in his chest, only they were so very much responsive. Just lightly caressing her nipples felt divine.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, marveling at his new skin. Ashley’s skin was smooth and hairless, and nowhere was that more evident than in her legs. Thomas’ legs were hairy, and pale, but Ashley’s were smooth and toned. He stood up, and went to turn on the lights.
Thomas had to admit, no matter how hot he thought being his high school crush was, looking at himself in the mirror like this was freaky. Not only was walking around harder, from the different gravity center, and length of their legs, everything felt bigger, and just that bit farther than they were supposed to.
The discomfort was such that he quickly decided to leave. He figured that doing this with her soul would feel better, so he turned off the light, before laying back down in the bed.
Leaving was a lot harder than it was to get in. It took 5 long minutes of concentrating for him to feel the seam in his new body’s back, and managing to get his old one from inside it. After he left, he was breathless, and his muscles ached, like he went through the most intense work out of his life.
He took a few minutes for himself, before recovering Ashley’s soul. After confirming that it was indeed possible to possess another person's body, he was anxious to fully embody Ashley.
In a fit of courage, Thomas placed Ashley’s soul inside his mouth, and swallowed it at once. Just as he thought, it didn’t go down as smooth as Christine’s, but once it reached his belly, he could already feel the second set of memories inside his head. At once he could now access all of her personality and mannerisms.
With that, he once again went towards her body. Instead of carefully slipping inside it, like his first time, after spreading the seam open, he just plunged inside, so as to be as fast as possible, and just like that, he blacked out.
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It was 6 in the morning when Ashley’s alarm clock rang. Sleepily she turned it off, before going towards her bathroom for a quick shower. Before leaving her room, her eyes laid on her own body in the mirror. It was strange, like she was unfamiliar with the body she held her entire life.
“Am I getting fat, or something? Weird…”, mumbled the blonde. Even her voice felt a little different than what she expected
Still, she had to go to work, so she needed to take a bath. Entering the bathroom, she looked close at her face, checking for anything outside its place. Finding nothing, she turned on the shower, and took a lock of hair, and brought it to her nose. For some reason, beyond the all around weirdness she felt when looking at herself, she couldn’t help but wonder at how good she smelled today. After a quick sniff under her arms, she entered the shower.
It was as if every time her hands got close to her breasts, ass or pussy, they lingered a little bit more than she usually did. Looking down, she couldn’t help but notice that despite their petite size, her boobs did indeed have a nice shape, immediately beginning to fondle herself.
“Huuh…” she moaned softly. Her breasts had always been sensitive, but this morning it was like they were on fire.
Each second she spent grabbing her tits, and gently pinching her nipples, her arousal grew, making the warm water from the shower feel better and better on her skin, and before long, her hands snaked downwards, towards her pussy.
By how warm her insides felt, she knew that if she wasn’t wet from the shower, she’d be sopping down there. She expertly massaged her outer lips, before going for the true prize. By now, Ashley was so aroused, that just pinching her clit once, she came.
She tried to hold onto the crashing wave of pleasure for as long as she could, proficiently inserting her fingers into her vagina, pressing on her sweetest spot. Still, it wasn’t long before she finished, and a wave of clarity hit her.
She quickly finished showering, grabbing her towel, and drying herself. As she went to the sink to brush her teeth, she couldn’t help but notice that any weirdness about her appearance had vanished. Maybe she had been more pent up than she expected?
—————————————————————————————————————————
Ashley had spent the day as normal as she could. After leaving her home, she went to work. This morning she had a few different physics classes to teach, and during the afternoon she’d be in the teacher’s lounge, planning some tests for her classes.
She had always been uncomfortable with how many men, both faculty and students shamelessly looked at her ass, but supposed that it was the occupational hazard of being a young attractive teacher, the next youngest of her colleagues being 8 years older than her. Today though? All she could feel was a weird sense of excitement in knowing that men desired her.
After she finished her classes, Ashley was at the teacher’s lounge drinking some coffee before going back to work, when in came Clarice Carter. Before Ashley got hired, she had been the youngest teacher in the school, so they got very well together.
Despite looking very motherly, the taller woman had no kids. Today, her wavy chocolate hair was loosely tied down, keeping with her theme. She liked wearing comfortable clothes, so Despite having an almost amazonian build, it was very well hidden from most people. Apparently she had first started going to the gym to impress a girl she was interested in, and after it ended, she just kept going.
“Hey Ash, are you done for the day?”
“Just taking a break, gotta finish some tests for one of my classes. What about you?”
“Oh, I have a few more classes before I’m done, thankfully it’s a quiet one”, said Clarice, pouring coffee for herself.
“Oooh, I wish my last class of the day had been one of the nice ones. Were we that bad when we were younger?”
“Well, I can’t say about you, but I was a little angel”, smirked the older woman.
“Ah, yes, all of those poor boys that got beaten up by the angry tall girl will surely agree”, jested the blonde.
“Well, they shouldn’t have picked on me then”, answered Clarice in fake outrage. “Anyways, it was good talking with you today, but I gotta go back to class”, setting her mug on the sink.
“Hey, do you wanna go for a drink tonight, with me?” suddenly asked Ashley, surprising even herself.
“Oh? I’m free tonight, yeah, do you have a place in mind?”
“Ugh, my… house?” said the confused blonde.
“How forward of you, ms. Black. It’s a date then, see you later”, answered the brunette, before leaving.
“What the fuck…” said Ashley. She hadn’t been planning on asking Clarice out. She briefly remembered that sense of weirdness she felt that morning. Was she going insane? She hoped not, but it felt like today she wasn’t in full control of herself, which was worrying.
Still, she had some more work to do, she could get worried after finishing her obligations of the day.
—————————————————————————————————————————
It was 5 in the afternoon, and Ashley was now going back to her house. She knew that Clarice would only leave the school at 6, so she had enough time to deal with some of her house’s mess. She had bought some beers and wine, since she wasn’t sure what Clarice would want to drink.
Arriving at her apartment, she placed the beverages in the fridge, before getting changed. Once again, after she got rid of her work clothes, her eyes resisted leaving her bare skin. She had to admit that she was actually pretty hot, her slender upper body thickening well into her hips and ass, and then tapering into her long legs.
She resisted the urge to play with herself again, she had a house to ready for a guest after all, so she got dressed, and started tidying up.
She ended up having a whole hour before Clarice arrived. It was already dark outside when the taller woman entered the building, and Ashley really wasn’t expecting what she saw.
While at school Clarice tended to wear soft or dark colors, often in sweaters and skirts with tights underneath, or larger shirts, tonight she was wearing a simple white shirt and jeans. While intellectually she knew what Clarice’s build actually was underneath her clothes, seeing her ample bosom and wide hips for the first time shocked her a little.
She was almost hypnotized by the larger woman’s figure, and could feel herself slowly moistening at the sight of those generous globes.
“Hey. Ash? Ash!” exclaimed the older woman.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, please come in”, hurriedly said the blonde.
All things considered, they had a pleasant evening. Ashley had drunk a few cups of wine, while Clairce kept to the beer. After they finished the dinner Ashley prepared, Clarice couldn’t help but ask.
“So, what’s your deal? We’ve known each other for a while, and you never striked me as a someone batting for the same team”
“Well, I don’t think I am? At least not usually, but today has been a very unusual day.”
“Not that I’m complaining, you’re cute and all, but if you’re trying to use me for any dumb reason you better tell me, cause if I find out you’re bouncing back from a bad break up, and using me for that, I’ll be quite mad.”
“Ugh, it's not that. I think I'm experimenting? I’ve never been with a woman before, and to be honest, I hadn’t ever planned before today, but something about you today made me think that I should look into it,” sheepishly explained the blonde. “Also, you’re the only lesbian I know, so if anyone could help me explore it’d be you.”
“Huh, that’s a first for me, I guess. Welp, from how long your eyes have been in my tits, I guess we better start soon, then. Just try not to make this weird later,” said the brunette, sultrily, crawling over her coworker, her hands snaking beneath her clothes.
Ashley hadn’t been expecting that. Different from her past boyfriends and one night stands, Clarice’s larger hands massaged her breasts very gently. She took off the smaller woman’s clothes, careful not to damage them, and kissed her all the way, from her lips, down her neck, to her nipples, her belly, and finally to her lower lips.
Clarice didn’t usually go for the girly types, but she could see the appeal. As a teacher, Ashley was quite headstrong, but right now, under her care, she looked so small, like an inexperienced kitten. She couldn’t help but notice that she had a distinctive smell tonight, different from what she usually did at school.
Clarice had always been sensitive to those things. Small, almost imperceptible changes on someone’s odor could tell a lot about how they were that day. Most people found it creepy, but having super smelling powers was something she had found useful all her life.
If she didn’t know better, it was like Ashley’s usual aroma was tinged by something she usually felt from young men, and for some reason, she found that to be intoxicating.
Her coworker tasted heavenly, she found, when her ministrations got to her pussy. She had quite the cute one, her lips were just the right size, and the way she moaned every time her tongue went inside her depths did things to herself that she wouldn’t dare to speak of.
Eventually, Ashley had gotten to her climax. The blonde’s legs shut tightly, with the brunette’s head between them, so Clarice made sure to lick as much of the younger woman’s juices as she could.
Ashley had to give it to Clarice. She knew that today had been quite an unusual day, the whole masturbation session in the morning felt better than any other time she pleasured herself, but her coworker’s oral sex had felt so much better than any other time she had sex that she couldn’t believe it. Still, she had to give back to her, so after letting the larger woman go from her legs, she immediately went on the offensive.
Clarice’s lips tasted different now than like they did during their first kiss a few moments ago. She supposed that was her own taste in her lover’s mouth. For some reason, that made her so much hungrier for the taller brunette’s body, that she could barely hold herself.
She pawed at her large breasts forcefully, pushing her down on the couch. She made sure to suckle on her large nipples, licking her skin, tasting her sweat. She was so hot right now. This big and strong woman was letting her manhandle her, as easily she wanted. God, she could almost say she was in love with her body.
While her skin felt as smooth and soft as Ashley’s, the musculature underneath a nice and plushy layer of fat made her body feel so luscious to the touch, that she almost wanted to press herself into her body, until she could just slip inside and completely merge with her.
But since that was impossible, she settled for the second best thing, she lowered herself to Clarice’s shaved pussy. She had never seen a vagina from so close, but she had an idea of what to do, so she went to work.
She inserted her fingers into the other woman’s needy hole, while her lips dedicated themselves to the older woman’s clitoris. She tried to maintain a consistent rhythm between focusing on each part, so she kept going, until her face got sprayed with her co worker's juices.
—————————————————————————————————————————
A few hours into the night, both tired and thoroughly fucked women slept peacefully. After both had first orgasmed, they moved themselves to Ashley’s room, and there, they kept playing with each other’s body for as long as they could keep awake.
Surprisingly, Ashley had kept awake for a little longer than Clarice did. She knew that for some reason, she couldn’t afford to sleep before her companion. After she made sure the brunette was asleep, she started concentrating. Just like that, her head hit the pillow, back turned to the ceiling.
A Seam slowly opened in Ashley’s back, and Thomas crawled out of it as carefully as he could.
He was tired. Unlike the first time he used Ashley’s body by itself, it wasn’t any sort of physical tiredness, but mental exhaustion. He could barely describe his experience living her life for a day. During some moments, it was like he couldn’t tell where she began and he ended, and during others he was just sitting down, deep inside her mind, making as little noise as he could.
The sheer pleasure women’s bodies were capable of was something he wasn’t ready to feel when he first woke up today, but it was wonderful. Each tender touch to one of her breasts felt like massaging his penis’ head, and he could barely describe how it felt to have a tongue deep inside her vagina, or her clitoris stimulated.
All around, the feeling of embodying such an attractive woman was the best part. He could feel her mind flowing between his own while he was being her, and that was the best part of all. He could have her all for himself during it, in ways that even just keeping her soul inside himself didn’t compare.
But all good things had to end, and he couldn’t keep stealing someone else’s life like that, so he quickly let go of Ashley’s soul, the small sphere slowly phasing through his belly, and resting in his hands.
He placed it inside Ashley’s body, somewhat sad to let go of it, and that he couldn’t stay here to see how she’d be after all of that influence he had on her yesterday.
At least he did, until his eyes settled on the other woman in the room.
He didn’t really know Clarice, didn’t have a deeper connection with her, like he did with Ashley. But he supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to keep watching them for at least one more day.
Besides, if he needed to, he could just get her to a bathroom, and leave whenever he wanted to. Yeah, why wouldn’t he enjoy the larger woman.
And so, with a grin on his face, he slowly reached into the brunette’s back, firmly grasping her soul. He would make sure to keep experimenting.
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1
When three high school seniors find a book of magic spells, they set out on a quest to teach their bullies a lesson. First up is Finn, the arrogant jock who has tormented them all for years.
All characters are 18+.
The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.
“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”
“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”
“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”
“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”
“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.
Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”
Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.
Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.
“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”
“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.
“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”
“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”
“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.
“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”
Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.
“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.
Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.
Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”
“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”
Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.
“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”
“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”
“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”
Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”
“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”
“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”
Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”
“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”
Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.
Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.
“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”
Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”
Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”
Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.
“Finn.”
~~~*~
On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.
Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.
Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.
As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.
Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”
“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.
“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”
The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.
As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”
“It should have worked, damn it.”
“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”
“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.
“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”
Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.
“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.
They caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”
“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”
“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”
“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.
They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.
“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”
They shook their heads.
“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.
“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.
“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.
“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.
“How, bro? He never got hit once.”
“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.
“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.
Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.
Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.
“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.
“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.
“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.
Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”
Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.
“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.
“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”
“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.
“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”
Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.
“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”
“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”
“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”
“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”
Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.
“Dry off.”
Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.
The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.
“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”
“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.
“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.
“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”
“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”
“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what, princess?”
“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”
“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.
“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”
Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.
“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.
“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”
“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”
Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.
“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”
“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.
Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.
“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”
Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.
“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.
“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.
“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.
“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.
Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”
“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”
“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”
“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”
Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.
“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”
Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.
“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.
“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”
“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.
Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”
“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.
Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”
The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.
“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.
Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.
All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.
“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.
“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.
Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.
“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”
He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.
“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”
All characters are 18+.
The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.
“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”
“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”
“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”
“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”
“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.
Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”
Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.
Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.
“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”
“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.
“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”
“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”
“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.
“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”
Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.
“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.
Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.
Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”
“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”
Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.
“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”
“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”
“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”
Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”
“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”
“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”
Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”
“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”
Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.
Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.
“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”
Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”
Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”
Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.
“Finn.”
~~~*~
On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.
Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.
Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.
As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.
Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”
“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.
“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”
The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.
As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”
“It should have worked, damn it.”
“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”
“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.
“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”
Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.
“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.
They caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”
“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”
“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”
“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.
They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.
“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”
They shook their heads.
“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.
“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.
“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.
“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.
“How, bro? He never got hit once.”
“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.
“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.
Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.
Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.
“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.
“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.
“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.
Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”
Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.
“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.
“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”
“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.
“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”
Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.
“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”
“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”
“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”
“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”
Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.
“Dry off.”
Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.
The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.
“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”
“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.
“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.
“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”
“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”
“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what, princess?”
“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”
“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.
“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”
Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.
“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.
“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”
“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”
Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.
“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”
“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.
Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.
“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”
Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.
“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.
“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.
“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.
“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.
Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”
“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”
“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”
“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”
Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.
“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”
Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.
“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.
“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”
“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.
Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”
“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.
Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”
The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.
“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.
Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.
All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.
“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.
“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.
Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.
“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”
He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.
“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”
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