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Love Returned in Vivian's extreme matchmaking Beer Pong
Wish you were here in Unthoughtful Wish
by
smatster
· 21 Oct 2025
A man fucking a sexy female genie, says "he wishes she was always with him."
542
0
0
Elise has claimed a Throne in Cheer Megazord
Elise is a Queen in Cheer Megazord
Action have consequences in Cheer Megazord
by
smatster
· 21 Oct 2025
Elise gets embarrassed because she wasn't watching where she was going.
763
0
0
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New Adventures
The SUKINATOR 2000 is a prototype gun able to suck people souls and then to launch them towards empty vessels.
During a high school after party, the group of friends found a futuristic looking gun called the SUKINATOR 2000. They don't know how it works, but by testing it, they will get to experience stuff that was only present in fiction.
CHARACTERS
Alan (18) - A recent graduate from high school. Single but would like a girlfriend.
Lily (18) - Asian female best friend of Alan and good friend with Mark. A cute dork very enthusiastic abour her interests.
Mark (19) - Best friend of Alan. A buff and tall guy that had been accepted by football scholarship to university.
Claire (18) - Girlfriend of Mark, still doesn't know the group very well. A black girl, part of the cheerleaders, has a sizeable ass and a modest chest.
Alisha - Cheerleader Captain of the school. Arrogant. Girlfriend of Mike.
Mike - Football Captain, boyfriend of Alisha. Meathead and Frat mentality.
Gwen - Cheerleader, size queen with big tits that like to show off, redhead with short hair. Girlfriend of Carlos.
Elena - Cheerleader, blonde with pigtails, very petite and sassy, single.
Naomi - Cheerleader, Brunette with legs. Tallest girl in school. Girlfriend of Andrew.
Suzan - Cheerleader, Ravenhaired beauty with pale skin, blue eyes and a big phat ass. Single.
Carlos - Football Team, boyfriend of Gwen.
Roger - Football Team, the gentle jock.
Andrew - Football Team, boyfriend of Naomi.
Alex - Football Team, trying to date Suzan.
Leo - The creepy loser.
Anna - School valedictorian. Very prestine, long hair and sophisticated glasses. Does ballet and play the piano.
Brandy - The mean but equally attractive female bully, blonde hair with gothic lolita clothes.
Jeff - A bully.
SETTING & WORLD
Real World. High school has just ended and people are deciding which are their next steps in their life. Coming of Age Story.
During a high school after party, the group of friends found a futuristic looking gun called the SUKINATOR 2000. They don't know how it works, but by testing it, they will get to experience stuff that was only present in fiction.
CHARACTERS
Alan (18) - A recent graduate from high school. Single but would like a girlfriend.
Lily (18) - Asian female best friend of Alan and good friend with Mark. A cute dork very enthusiastic abour her interests.
Mark (19) - Best friend of Alan. A buff and tall guy that had been accepted by football scholarship to university.
Claire (18) - Girlfriend of Mark, still doesn't know the group very well. A black girl, part of the cheerleaders, has a sizeable ass and a modest chest.
Alisha - Cheerleader Captain of the school. Arrogant. Girlfriend of Mike.
Mike - Football Captain, boyfriend of Alisha. Meathead and Frat mentality.
Gwen - Cheerleader, size queen with big tits that like to show off, redhead with short hair. Girlfriend of Carlos.
Elena - Cheerleader, blonde with pigtails, very petite and sassy, single.
Naomi - Cheerleader, Brunette with legs. Tallest girl in school. Girlfriend of Andrew.
Suzan - Cheerleader, Ravenhaired beauty with pale skin, blue eyes and a big phat ass. Single.
Carlos - Football Team, boyfriend of Gwen.
Roger - Football Team, the gentle jock.
Andrew - Football Team, boyfriend of Naomi.
Alex - Football Team, trying to date Suzan.
Leo - The creepy loser.
Anna - School valedictorian. Very prestine, long hair and sophisticated glasses. Does ballet and play the piano.
Brandy - The mean but equally attractive female bully, blonde hair with gothic lolita clothes.
Jeff - A bully.
SETTING & WORLD
Real World. High school has just ended and people are deciding which are their next steps in their life. Coming of Age Story.
198
3
1
You won the lottery and get a new property, a manor that's located in the middle of the city. Inside the manor was a collection of dolls, and these dolls hold a dark secret that you use to your advantage.
You learn that the dolls in your newly acquired manor have the ability to switch "vessels," meaning they could move from their doll body into a different body if it's within close proximity. The dolls are loyal to you, the new owner of the manor, and should you permit them, they will steal the bodies of people you desire, and will follow any and all commands from you. You know plenty of people that the dolls could hijack, but the question is... are you willing to have the dolls steal their bodies and lives for your own pleasure and leisure? Of course you do!
CHARACTERS
Helena - Your boss at work, for some reason, she hates your guts and often gives you work that's way above your pay grade.
Annie - The cute barista at the cafe you often go to before work. She's rather shy, but still sneaks in a free cookie or two when you order, you think she has a crush on you, but you can't really know for sure...
Lucy - Your ex girlfriend. You caught her cheating with not one... but two guys. You didn't hesitate to break up with her, but you still miss her, despite all the cheating she's done.
Abigail - Your older sister who's done nothing but tease you ever since you were younger. She was always the center of attention during family gatherings, and thanks to her good looks she got everything she ever wanted, and she never liked dressing modestly.
You learn that the dolls in your newly acquired manor have the ability to switch "vessels," meaning they could move from their doll body into a different body if it's within close proximity. The dolls are loyal to you, the new owner of the manor, and should you permit them, they will steal the bodies of people you desire, and will follow any and all commands from you. You know plenty of people that the dolls could hijack, but the question is... are you willing to have the dolls steal their bodies and lives for your own pleasure and leisure? Of course you do!
CHARACTERS
Helena - Your boss at work, for some reason, she hates your guts and often gives you work that's way above your pay grade.
Annie - The cute barista at the cafe you often go to before work. She's rather shy, but still sneaks in a free cookie or two when you order, you think she has a crush on you, but you can't really know for sure...
Lucy - Your ex girlfriend. You caught her cheating with not one... but two guys. You didn't hesitate to break up with her, but you still miss her, despite all the cheating she's done.
Abigail - Your older sister who's done nothing but tease you ever since you were younger. She was always the center of attention during family gatherings, and thanks to her good looks she got everything she ever wanted, and she never liked dressing modestly.
618
2
0
A Halloween party for those who need to possess bodies! Everyone is invited, Ghosts, ghouls, aliens, demons, body hoppers, perverts with technology. The only rule: you have to be controlling someone else’s body.
Every year, a long abandoned mansion in the woods burst with life and light, THE party of the year! Alcohol, sex, games, costumes, the works! But all the party goers? They are possessed.
Spirits, creatures, perverts, freaks and more all come together to show of bodies they have taken for the night, dressed up (or down) for the occasion of a night of fun at the expense of their host. Swapping host is allowed and encouraged! Get creative, invite your own OC, or step into the shoes of an existing possession presence. Either way, have fun in your new body!
CHARACTERS
Add your own supernatural, science fiction, urban legend, or OC here.
The Hidden- a large alien worm who likes partying, hops from body to body by crawling into any open orifice. Rowdy and loves to party in a new body, experiencing all it can. Bit of a horndog. Wraps around hosts brain to access surface mannerisms and memories. Prefers female hosts, as they are “better rides”
The Slime- a large green slime blob the size of a basketball. Not particularly bright. Has no access to host memories and comes off as a bimbo when possessing a body.
The Mummy- wants a new body for the evening to have fun and experience life to the fullest. Adventurous but old fashioned.
The Ghosts- fun loving pranksters, there are multiple spirits who dwell in the mansion, they will take over any body that isn’t currently possessed and act as the “fun” of the party. Some just want sex, others to be touched, others to just drink and socialize.
Frankenstein’s Monster- slow moving brute (not his fault, body is slow) with a big heart and fear of fire. Though his normally large body stands out, on Halloween he opens his head and his brain can leave his head and squirm around looking for an attractive host for him to possess. His brain can squeeze into a persons ear and take over. He has no access to the host’s memories. Still clumsy
Casandra- a high end socialite who has been reduced to a brain in a jar. Uses psychic restraints before sending her mind into a host via a blue beam emitted from the brain in a jar. Loves possessing body’s with “a nice rear bumper” and sees a busty host as nothing more than “a bouncy castle” for her to enjoy.
Imps- little demons who can cause mischief but are also little perverts. Love to tease and edge potential hosts before invading their bodies. Have a hard time speaking in full sentences and are rough on their stolen bodies.
Brainslugs- small green baseball sized slimes with a single eye that latch onto a hosts head and is able to pilot them. Have a hard time with fine motor control and speak through their host in a dry monotone that makes the possessed seem VERY obvious. Will often try to get other to place a brain slug on their head. They think they are smart but are very simple.
Insect Hive- thousands of insects that invade a host and make their home in their body. Really like to spread into a hive mind but tonight they will limit themselves to only 3 bodies at a time
The Puppet Masters- stingray sized aliens who use a barbed tendril to pierce the back of a hosts, allowing them to control the body via tendril or to latch themselves on to their back. As this is supppose to be a fun party, the tendril needs to find a “different approach” to possessing a body.
Popuni- little goofball sized aliens made of slime who need human cum to produce more of their kind. Possesses bodies by sliding into “cum collection hole” (ass, pussy) and take over. They are perverted and excited to be on earth and their only goal is to get as much cum as possible into their host’s body.
Zuul- of ghost busters fame. Looming for a “key master” for her body’s “gatekeeper”.
Really, just looking to have a good time and looking spooky doing it. All talk, here for the vibes.
Pumpkin Heads- sentient jack-o’-lanterns who can use their vines to move. They use their flickering lights to hypnotize their prey, then place themselves over the hosts head, taking over their body. Though in control of a human body, they can still use their vines for… fun
SETTING & WORLD
Halloween day and night, present day
Every year, a long abandoned mansion in the woods burst with life and light, THE party of the year! Alcohol, sex, games, costumes, the works! But all the party goers? They are possessed.
Spirits, creatures, perverts, freaks and more all come together to show of bodies they have taken for the night, dressed up (or down) for the occasion of a night of fun at the expense of their host. Swapping host is allowed and encouraged! Get creative, invite your own OC, or step into the shoes of an existing possession presence. Either way, have fun in your new body!
CHARACTERS
Add your own supernatural, science fiction, urban legend, or OC here.
The Hidden- a large alien worm who likes partying, hops from body to body by crawling into any open orifice. Rowdy and loves to party in a new body, experiencing all it can. Bit of a horndog. Wraps around hosts brain to access surface mannerisms and memories. Prefers female hosts, as they are “better rides”
The Slime- a large green slime blob the size of a basketball. Not particularly bright. Has no access to host memories and comes off as a bimbo when possessing a body.
The Mummy- wants a new body for the evening to have fun and experience life to the fullest. Adventurous but old fashioned.
The Ghosts- fun loving pranksters, there are multiple spirits who dwell in the mansion, they will take over any body that isn’t currently possessed and act as the “fun” of the party. Some just want sex, others to be touched, others to just drink and socialize.
Frankenstein’s Monster- slow moving brute (not his fault, body is slow) with a big heart and fear of fire. Though his normally large body stands out, on Halloween he opens his head and his brain can leave his head and squirm around looking for an attractive host for him to possess. His brain can squeeze into a persons ear and take over. He has no access to the host’s memories. Still clumsy
Casandra- a high end socialite who has been reduced to a brain in a jar. Uses psychic restraints before sending her mind into a host via a blue beam emitted from the brain in a jar. Loves possessing body’s with “a nice rear bumper” and sees a busty host as nothing more than “a bouncy castle” for her to enjoy.
Imps- little demons who can cause mischief but are also little perverts. Love to tease and edge potential hosts before invading their bodies. Have a hard time speaking in full sentences and are rough on their stolen bodies.
Brainslugs- small green baseball sized slimes with a single eye that latch onto a hosts head and is able to pilot them. Have a hard time with fine motor control and speak through their host in a dry monotone that makes the possessed seem VERY obvious. Will often try to get other to place a brain slug on their head. They think they are smart but are very simple.
Insect Hive- thousands of insects that invade a host and make their home in their body. Really like to spread into a hive mind but tonight they will limit themselves to only 3 bodies at a time
The Puppet Masters- stingray sized aliens who use a barbed tendril to pierce the back of a hosts, allowing them to control the body via tendril or to latch themselves on to their back. As this is supppose to be a fun party, the tendril needs to find a “different approach” to possessing a body.
Popuni- little goofball sized aliens made of slime who need human cum to produce more of their kind. Possesses bodies by sliding into “cum collection hole” (ass, pussy) and take over. They are perverted and excited to be on earth and their only goal is to get as much cum as possible into their host’s body.
Zuul- of ghost busters fame. Looming for a “key master” for her body’s “gatekeeper”.
Really, just looking to have a good time and looking spooky doing it. All talk, here for the vibes.
Pumpkin Heads- sentient jack-o’-lanterns who can use their vines to move. They use their flickering lights to hypnotize their prey, then place themselves over the hosts head, taking over their body. Though in control of a human body, they can still use their vines for… fun
SETTING & WORLD
Halloween day and night, present day
459
5
0
Inspired by the Mr Suits story, but this time you can choose your own path!
A little green alien needs your help to survive earth, but also needs to possess someone you know!
[Detailed Description]
Johnny Watson was just like any other 19-year-old teenager but one day, during a night of restless sleep he makes a discovery that changes his life forever. In his back garden he discovers an alien who’d crash landed on earth having ejected from his wrecked ship. When it turns out the alien is friendly Johnny vows to help him find his ship but the first port of call for Squawg is to find a new body to hide in and for Johnny that means watching somebody he knows getting possessed by the little space man.
Who he possesses and what happens next is up to you? Will they ever find the aliens ship? Or is Squawg destined to spend the rest of his life on earth wearing the bodies of the people around him?
CHARACTERS
[Characters]
Squawg: An alien from outer space. Comes from a highly intelligent race of aliens but is a little but its safe to say he isn’t too smart. He knows little about earth and his curiosity to learn more about the planet that he has crash landed on is constantly getting him into trouble much to the annoyance of Johnny. He looks like a typical mainstream alien, 4-foot-tall, green in color with a big oval shaped head and skinny gangly limbs.
You (Johnny Watson): You’re a slightly below average 19 year-old boy. You have a nice way about you but can be mischievous at times. Due to your poor athleticism and average looks you get picked on by those looking for someone to torment, mainly Alfie. Your best friend is Tom who you share your passions for Fortnite, and big breasted women. You’re on the shorter and pudgier side and have short brown hair which you sweep over to the side and blue piercing eyes. You’re into all that supernatural and sci-fi stuff which is why when Squawg lands in your garden you’re more curious than scared.
Sally Watson: Your 43-year-old mother. Works as the nurse at your high school but is forbidden from helping you at school. She is a kind lady however she can be stern when she wants to be. Lucky for you she’s only mildly attractive so the boys at school don’t wind you up about her. She is relatively short, has dark brown shoulder length hair and greeny-blue eyes. Maybe it was because you’d never looked at her in a sexual way or perhaps it was because she was exceptionally good at covering them up but unbeknownst to you and your friends your mom was absolutely stacked.
Matt Watson: Your 45-year-old dad. A tall, burly man standing at about 6ft 4in, unfortunately none of his size had been passed on to you. He was usually quite busy at work, though he earned his own business so got to decide when he wanted to work, which at the moment seemed like all the time. He was very strict with you, always forcing you to work harder, you knew he just wanted the best from you but it really did anger you.
Georgina Watson: Your 28 year-old sister. Can really wind you up at times though you generally get along well with her. She attends a local college to study acting having left your school just last year. She stands at 6ft having inherited your dad’s height has long brown hair and dark green eyes. She has a curvaceous body and hanging from her chest she has two large breasts which she, much like your mom, doesn’t like to show off.
Tom Daniels: Your best friend. He was 19 but for his age was, unlike you, reasonably well built being 6ft tall and having some relatively large muscles. He played in the soccer team and was accepted by the ‘cool’ kids though he preferred hanging around with you. You’d been friends with him since year 2 and share a lot of the same interests. He has medium length light blonde hair which he leaves unkempt not seeming to care much what other people thought about how he looked, which amplified his modesty seeing as he was still a pretty good-looking guy, having a fair few girls who had crushes on him over the years. He lives right next door to you.
Mrs. Norris
32
Single neighbor milf next door, her body has changed to much more curvy with time. She is aware of how her appearance affects others, and gets a thrill from showing off her looks. Very kind, however also has a perverted streak and harbors fantasies of being a submissive (may make a willing host)
SETTING & WORLD
Middle sized town where you Johnny knows most people in his area. Upper middle class neighborhood, with some nearby woods.
A little green alien needs your help to survive earth, but also needs to possess someone you know!
[Detailed Description]
Johnny Watson was just like any other 19-year-old teenager but one day, during a night of restless sleep he makes a discovery that changes his life forever. In his back garden he discovers an alien who’d crash landed on earth having ejected from his wrecked ship. When it turns out the alien is friendly Johnny vows to help him find his ship but the first port of call for Squawg is to find a new body to hide in and for Johnny that means watching somebody he knows getting possessed by the little space man.
Who he possesses and what happens next is up to you? Will they ever find the aliens ship? Or is Squawg destined to spend the rest of his life on earth wearing the bodies of the people around him?
CHARACTERS
[Characters]
Squawg: An alien from outer space. Comes from a highly intelligent race of aliens but is a little but its safe to say he isn’t too smart. He knows little about earth and his curiosity to learn more about the planet that he has crash landed on is constantly getting him into trouble much to the annoyance of Johnny. He looks like a typical mainstream alien, 4-foot-tall, green in color with a big oval shaped head and skinny gangly limbs.
You (Johnny Watson): You’re a slightly below average 19 year-old boy. You have a nice way about you but can be mischievous at times. Due to your poor athleticism and average looks you get picked on by those looking for someone to torment, mainly Alfie. Your best friend is Tom who you share your passions for Fortnite, and big breasted women. You’re on the shorter and pudgier side and have short brown hair which you sweep over to the side and blue piercing eyes. You’re into all that supernatural and sci-fi stuff which is why when Squawg lands in your garden you’re more curious than scared.
Sally Watson: Your 43-year-old mother. Works as the nurse at your high school but is forbidden from helping you at school. She is a kind lady however she can be stern when she wants to be. Lucky for you she’s only mildly attractive so the boys at school don’t wind you up about her. She is relatively short, has dark brown shoulder length hair and greeny-blue eyes. Maybe it was because you’d never looked at her in a sexual way or perhaps it was because she was exceptionally good at covering them up but unbeknownst to you and your friends your mom was absolutely stacked.
Matt Watson: Your 45-year-old dad. A tall, burly man standing at about 6ft 4in, unfortunately none of his size had been passed on to you. He was usually quite busy at work, though he earned his own business so got to decide when he wanted to work, which at the moment seemed like all the time. He was very strict with you, always forcing you to work harder, you knew he just wanted the best from you but it really did anger you.
Georgina Watson: Your 28 year-old sister. Can really wind you up at times though you generally get along well with her. She attends a local college to study acting having left your school just last year. She stands at 6ft having inherited your dad’s height has long brown hair and dark green eyes. She has a curvaceous body and hanging from her chest she has two large breasts which she, much like your mom, doesn’t like to show off.
Tom Daniels: Your best friend. He was 19 but for his age was, unlike you, reasonably well built being 6ft tall and having some relatively large muscles. He played in the soccer team and was accepted by the ‘cool’ kids though he preferred hanging around with you. You’d been friends with him since year 2 and share a lot of the same interests. He has medium length light blonde hair which he leaves unkempt not seeming to care much what other people thought about how he looked, which amplified his modesty seeing as he was still a pretty good-looking guy, having a fair few girls who had crushes on him over the years. He lives right next door to you.
Mrs. Norris
32
Single neighbor milf next door, her body has changed to much more curvy with time. She is aware of how her appearance affects others, and gets a thrill from showing off her looks. Very kind, however also has a perverted streak and harbors fantasies of being a submissive (may make a willing host)
SETTING & WORLD
Middle sized town where you Johnny knows most people in his area. Upper middle class neighborhood, with some nearby woods.
856
4
0
This adventure is about you and your girlfriend who use the spell to transform your girlfriend into a MILF.
CHARACTERS
You - The Protagonist of the story who use the MILF spell on your girlfriend to transforms her into your MILF fantasy
Your Girlfriend
SETTING & WORLD
Your house at a simple nice neighborhood.
CHARACTERS
You - The Protagonist of the story who use the MILF spell on your girlfriend to transforms her into your MILF fantasy
Your Girlfriend
SETTING & WORLD
Your house at a simple nice neighborhood.
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This adventure is about you and your girlfriend who use the spell to transform your girlfriend into a MILF.
CHARACTERS
You - The Protagonist of the story who use the MILF spell on your girlfriend to transforms her into your MILF fantasy
Your Girlfriend
SETTING & WORLD
Your house at a simple nice neighborhood.
CHARACTERS
You - The Protagonist of the story who use the MILF spell on your girlfriend to transforms her into your MILF fantasy
Your Girlfriend
SETTING & WORLD
Your house at a simple nice neighborhood.
You are the new Knight Commander of an all female squad. You job is to make them loyal to the Knights core.
CHARACTERS
Daniel (You): Stands as 6"3', black hair and battle scarred. A loyal member of the Knights. You were put in charge of the Sapphire Rose Knight Unit.
Joan: Your Vice Commander and former Captain of the unit. She has blonde hair, is 5"6', and the strictest.
Hazel: The logistics of the Unit. 5'4 with violent hair and a carefree attitude.
Alice: The medic of the Unit. 5"1' with crimson red hair. She is nice and respectful.
Jenny: The smith of Unit. 5"5' with black hair. She is gruff and friendly.
Yuna: The scout of the Unit. 4"10 with Silver hair. She is all spite and anger.
Zen: Your sister and the cook of the Unit. 5"5' with Black hair. She is gentle and hopeful.
SETTING & WORLD
[Setting & World]
A fantasy world where magic and machine exist together but the world never evolved past Medival socially.
CHARACTERS
Daniel (You): Stands as 6"3', black hair and battle scarred. A loyal member of the Knights. You were put in charge of the Sapphire Rose Knight Unit.
Joan: Your Vice Commander and former Captain of the unit. She has blonde hair, is 5"6', and the strictest.
Hazel: The logistics of the Unit. 5'4 with violent hair and a carefree attitude.
Alice: The medic of the Unit. 5"1' with crimson red hair. She is nice and respectful.
Jenny: The smith of Unit. 5"5' with black hair. She is gruff and friendly.
Yuna: The scout of the Unit. 4"10 with Silver hair. She is all spite and anger.
Zen: Your sister and the cook of the Unit. 5"5' with Black hair. She is gentle and hopeful.
SETTING & WORLD
[Setting & World]
A fantasy world where magic and machine exist together but the world never evolved past Medival socially.
323
5
3
This story is about Jim and his crazy transformation adventure along with his friends, girlfriend, family, and other people around him.
This interactive story is quite similar to BE Addventure, but with AI. You can freely choose and type anything you want.
CHARACTERS
Jim, the Protagonist - The average teenager whom you play as.
Sharon, Jim's longtime girlfriend - The pretty girl whom Jim goes out
Rick, Jim's best friend
and others
This interactive story is quite similar to BE Addventure, but with AI. You can freely choose and type anything you want.
CHARACTERS
Jim, the Protagonist - The average teenager whom you play as.
Sharon, Jim's longtime girlfriend - The pretty girl whom Jim goes out
Rick, Jim's best friend
and others
172
0
0
Matt is a perverted thief who is saved from execution by humanity's hero, Saintess Anne. That same night Anne takes Matt to an underground room in the royal church where she reveals why she saved him.
Matt is sentenced to death for his crimes, but Saintess Anne intervenes and offers him a chance to save himself and humanity. Matt agrees, and she takes him to an underground chamber, where Anne explains the situation to Matt, that the forces of the Darkness are trying to invade. But she will soon run out of mana.
CHARACTERS
Matt: A perverted thief with a love for stealing jewellery. He is arrogant and has no regard for the law. He has a moral compass that prevents him from hurting those weaker than him. He is saved from execution by the Saintess Anne. He has dark hair, a lean build, and a scar on his face.
Saintess Anne: Humanity's hero and a spiritual leader. She is beautiful, kind, and has a mysterious aura. She is the one who saves Matt from execution. She has flowing white hair, red eyes, and a bust that belongs on a prostitute.
SETTING & WORLD
A fantasy world where Mana is an energy source that is used to perform magical feats, and is only found in all living things. Every soul has a limited quantity. Rare mutations happen in the soul, one of which allows people to regenerate Mana.
Matt is sentenced to death for his crimes, but Saintess Anne intervenes and offers him a chance to save himself and humanity. Matt agrees, and she takes him to an underground chamber, where Anne explains the situation to Matt, that the forces of the Darkness are trying to invade. But she will soon run out of mana.
CHARACTERS
Matt: A perverted thief with a love for stealing jewellery. He is arrogant and has no regard for the law. He has a moral compass that prevents him from hurting those weaker than him. He is saved from execution by the Saintess Anne. He has dark hair, a lean build, and a scar on his face.
Saintess Anne: Humanity's hero and a spiritual leader. She is beautiful, kind, and has a mysterious aura. She is the one who saves Matt from execution. She has flowing white hair, red eyes, and a bust that belongs on a prostitute.
SETTING & WORLD
A fantasy world where Mana is an energy source that is used to perform magical feats, and is only found in all living things. Every soul has a limited quantity. Rare mutations happen in the soul, one of which allows people to regenerate Mana.
473
5
0
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.
226
0
0
One day you come across a magical doll that adapts the form of a person at your command, and once you find it, you can accept the form as your own. Adapting a form allows you to possess the person who’s form it is, and gives you access to their memories.
You find a magical doll that takes the form of a person. In order to take the form of someone, you must aim the doll at the person and say “adapt.” Once a form is adapted, the person whose form you adapted still exists. In order to take their form as your own, you must touch the doll in the small of its back. By doing so you are transported to where the form was when you pressed the small of the doll’s back, and you obtain their memories, effectively making you possess them. Once you take the form of someone, the doll is reverted to a doll of yourself, and in order to return to yourself you must once again press the doll in the small of its back, which transports you to where you were when you took the form of the person you were.
CHARACTERS
TIM (YOU) - A shy, hidden away guy who stays out of anything at school. You stand at a flat 6 feet.
TRICIA - your girlfriend, the complete opposite of you: outgoing, always getting into places she shouldn’t be. Also has an absolute bomb of a body: curvy, big breasts, everything. Stands at 5’ 10”
HEATHER - your twin sister, much smaller than you (4’ 2”) but due to her small size, her average size breasts look gigantic on her.
ALICIA - your oldest sister, home from college for summer break. She’s never been the nicest to you, and you’d do anything to get back at her. A little shorter than you, but with the very definition of a curvy body.
JIMMY - your best friend, pretty average guy and quite the prankster
SETTING & WORLD
Real World
You find a magical doll that takes the form of a person. In order to take the form of someone, you must aim the doll at the person and say “adapt.” Once a form is adapted, the person whose form you adapted still exists. In order to take their form as your own, you must touch the doll in the small of its back. By doing so you are transported to where the form was when you pressed the small of the doll’s back, and you obtain their memories, effectively making you possess them. Once you take the form of someone, the doll is reverted to a doll of yourself, and in order to return to yourself you must once again press the doll in the small of its back, which transports you to where you were when you took the form of the person you were.
CHARACTERS
TIM (YOU) - A shy, hidden away guy who stays out of anything at school. You stand at a flat 6 feet.
TRICIA - your girlfriend, the complete opposite of you: outgoing, always getting into places she shouldn’t be. Also has an absolute bomb of a body: curvy, big breasts, everything. Stands at 5’ 10”
HEATHER - your twin sister, much smaller than you (4’ 2”) but due to her small size, her average size breasts look gigantic on her.
ALICIA - your oldest sister, home from college for summer break. She’s never been the nicest to you, and you’d do anything to get back at her. A little shorter than you, but with the very definition of a curvy body.
JIMMY - your best friend, pretty average guy and quite the prankster
SETTING & WORLD
Real World
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You find a magic pen, anything it writes becomes true.
If the writing is in past tense the magic changes reality so it's always been that way, if the writing is in present tense it causes a change that people can notice.
If the writing is in past tense the magic changes reality so it's always been that way, if the writing is in present tense it causes a change that people can notice.
80
8
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Story Outline
The story follows Alex, a 33-year-old man who stumbles into a mysterious clothing shop in a city mall. Each item he tries on transforms a part of his body into a feminine counterpart, sparking a journey of curiosity and self-discovery. Through a series of choices, Alex experiments with various transformations, negotiates a magical subscription, and explores the limits of this enchanted wardrobe, blending humor, wonder, and identity exploration.
Characters
Alex: The protagonist, a 33-year-old everyman with an open mind and a growing fascination with the shop’s magic. He evolves from a casual wanderer to a bold negotiator, embracing the transformations with a mix of excitement and practicality.
The Shopkeeper: A mysterious, sharp-witted woman who runs Threads of Change. She’s enigmatic, playful, and deeply knowledgeable about her magical wares, guiding Alex with a blend of encouragement and sly amusement.
World
The story is set in a contemporary urban environment—bustling city streets and a sprawling mall—on April 5, 2025. The world feels familiar until Alex enters Threads of Change, a hidden shop where magic infuses every garment. This pocket of enchantment exists subtly within the modern landscape, hinting at a broader, unseen layer of wonder beneath everyday life.
The story follows Alex, a 33-year-old man who stumbles into a mysterious clothing shop in a city mall. Each item he tries on transforms a part of his body into a feminine counterpart, sparking a journey of curiosity and self-discovery. Through a series of choices, Alex experiments with various transformations, negotiates a magical subscription, and explores the limits of this enchanted wardrobe, blending humor, wonder, and identity exploration.
Characters
Alex: The protagonist, a 33-year-old everyman with an open mind and a growing fascination with the shop’s magic. He evolves from a casual wanderer to a bold negotiator, embracing the transformations with a mix of excitement and practicality.
The Shopkeeper: A mysterious, sharp-witted woman who runs Threads of Change. She’s enigmatic, playful, and deeply knowledgeable about her magical wares, guiding Alex with a blend of encouragement and sly amusement.
World
The story is set in a contemporary urban environment—bustling city streets and a sprawling mall—on April 5, 2025. The world feels familiar until Alex enters Threads of Change, a hidden shop where magic infuses every garment. This pocket of enchantment exists subtly within the modern landscape, hinting at a broader, unseen layer of wonder beneath everyday life.
229
1
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College is the time to try new things, so why not try someone else? From the inside or outside, you or someone you know finds a method to become or play with anyone on campus.
You or someone else you know finds a way to possess, mind control, body swap, and more at will. Done by magic, technology, or any other method you can dream of someone on your floor makes the college their playground, and the semester is just getting started.
CHARACTERS
You - The main character and POV. Unfortunately, your best friend transferred out of state, leaving your housing plans in a lurch. You lucked out getting the lone single on the floor at the end of the hall.
Veronica - Jane's friend and roommate. Veronica is your stereotypical goth, short with a thick body, large boobs, and black hair and clothes. She is deeply into the occult and all things magic. Works as a stagehand for the school musical. No current partner.
Jane - Veronica's friend and roommate. One of the leads in the school play, she is of average height and build, with an amazing singing voice. Always the actor, she enjoys roleplaying and the thrill of pretending to be someone else. No current partner, although she does hook up with other students in the musical fairly frequently.
Andre - Erics friend and roommate. On the collegiate swim and dive team, he is taller than Eric with a long and lean swimmers body. He and Amy have been going somewhat steady, although they have not made it official.
Eric - Andres friend and roommate. Standing around 6'2" and built like a brick house, he plays linebacker for the schools football team. He doesn't currently have a girlfriend, but seems to have a new partner in his bed every few days.
Mia - Amy's friend and roommate. Pretty much the opposite of Veronica, she is tall, instagram gorgeous, overly bubbly, and as a sorority member pretty much always wearing some shade of pink. Dating someone in a fraternity.
Amy - Mia's friend and roommate. Amy plays for the school's soccer team, complimenting her above average height frame with strong legs and six-pack abs. Competitive, focused, and dedicated, she always seems to be headed off to training or study hall. Going somewhat steady with Andre, but has not made it official.
Daniel - Kevin's friend and roommate. Insanely brilliant, he and Kevin work in a tech lab on campus doing work you can never quite understand. Just below average in height, he is surprisingly fit due to his background in martial arts and loves doing cosplay. Currently dating someone he met at a cosplay convention.
Kevin - Daniel's friend and roommate. Also incredibly brilliant and works with Kevin in the tech lab on campus. Tall, lanky, and wears glasses. Does cosplay with Daniel, and sometimes even goes to the gym with him, but is overall fairly unathletic. No current relationship, but seems to have a crush on Veronica.
SETTING & WORLD
The story takes place at your states college. Due to a mix-up in the schools housing assignment software, you and the listed characters have all been randomly assigned to the same dorm floor. While the fun may start on your floor, there is a whole college campus and thousands of people to explore.
You or someone else you know finds a way to possess, mind control, body swap, and more at will. Done by magic, technology, or any other method you can dream of someone on your floor makes the college their playground, and the semester is just getting started.
CHARACTERS
You - The main character and POV. Unfortunately, your best friend transferred out of state, leaving your housing plans in a lurch. You lucked out getting the lone single on the floor at the end of the hall.
Veronica - Jane's friend and roommate. Veronica is your stereotypical goth, short with a thick body, large boobs, and black hair and clothes. She is deeply into the occult and all things magic. Works as a stagehand for the school musical. No current partner.
Jane - Veronica's friend and roommate. One of the leads in the school play, she is of average height and build, with an amazing singing voice. Always the actor, she enjoys roleplaying and the thrill of pretending to be someone else. No current partner, although she does hook up with other students in the musical fairly frequently.
Andre - Erics friend and roommate. On the collegiate swim and dive team, he is taller than Eric with a long and lean swimmers body. He and Amy have been going somewhat steady, although they have not made it official.
Eric - Andres friend and roommate. Standing around 6'2" and built like a brick house, he plays linebacker for the schools football team. He doesn't currently have a girlfriend, but seems to have a new partner in his bed every few days.
Mia - Amy's friend and roommate. Pretty much the opposite of Veronica, she is tall, instagram gorgeous, overly bubbly, and as a sorority member pretty much always wearing some shade of pink. Dating someone in a fraternity.
Amy - Mia's friend and roommate. Amy plays for the school's soccer team, complimenting her above average height frame with strong legs and six-pack abs. Competitive, focused, and dedicated, she always seems to be headed off to training or study hall. Going somewhat steady with Andre, but has not made it official.
Daniel - Kevin's friend and roommate. Insanely brilliant, he and Kevin work in a tech lab on campus doing work you can never quite understand. Just below average in height, he is surprisingly fit due to his background in martial arts and loves doing cosplay. Currently dating someone he met at a cosplay convention.
Kevin - Daniel's friend and roommate. Also incredibly brilliant and works with Kevin in the tech lab on campus. Tall, lanky, and wears glasses. Does cosplay with Daniel, and sometimes even goes to the gym with him, but is overall fairly unathletic. No current relationship, but seems to have a crush on Veronica.
SETTING & WORLD
The story takes place at your states college. Due to a mix-up in the schools housing assignment software, you and the listed characters have all been randomly assigned to the same dorm floor. While the fun may start on your floor, there is a whole college campus and thousands of people to explore.
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10
Losely based on the game 'Horny Villa', but with a magical twist inspired by "Cumunji", written by Vexenfox
(I am still refining this adventure so it is possible things change over time.)
A place for people to gather and have fun, you made the villa as a retreat from reality, literally. After some pestering of your friends, you added a dash of magic.
You're not turning this villa in a full blown whorehouse (YET) , but a little horny magic here, a little perverse trick there, you get it.
Welcome to the Villa!
CHARACTERS
- You (Matt) - Owner of the Villa, average looks, average build. The whole 'faceless protagonist'-special.
- Jimmy - One of your best friends, he is a massive pervert, but has a good heart. Has always been a massive gamer. Now agent of chaos in your villa, he tries to run the whole thing on porn logic. The scary thing is, it works more than it should.
- Abby - She is what you would describe as a lady in the streets, an animal in the sheets. Her ginger hair has been neatly cut into a bob. She is very polite and shy, but if she is turned on she turns into one of the most aggressive subs you have ever seen.
She has a large natural rack, and fairly large hips.
- Eleanore - She has always been interested in everything and was the first of the girls who considered moving in. She is of average built. She has decent breasts and a fit figure. Her black hair has a blueish sheen to it. She always wares some mystical symbol on her person, a necklace or bracelet most of the time.
- Gemma - A free spirited skater girl with a penchant for chaos. She has an average built, decent chest and sporty legs. Her blonde hair is usually tied in a ponytail.
- Zoey - She is the resident airhead with a mean streak. She likes taking things that are not hers, especially boyfriends. She is a sporty petite with neon green hair with pink highlights.
- Debbie - A late arrival, they are always concerned about how they look, you think they might marry their mirror image.
SETTING & WORLD
The story is mainly set in your Villa, an extra dimensional pocket-plane. Most girls and boys in this story do not know about the villa's magic, but they will learn about it soon enough.
(I am still refining this adventure so it is possible things change over time.)
A place for people to gather and have fun, you made the villa as a retreat from reality, literally. After some pestering of your friends, you added a dash of magic.
You're not turning this villa in a full blown whorehouse (YET) , but a little horny magic here, a little perverse trick there, you get it.
Welcome to the Villa!
CHARACTERS
- You (Matt) - Owner of the Villa, average looks, average build. The whole 'faceless protagonist'-special.
- Jimmy - One of your best friends, he is a massive pervert, but has a good heart. Has always been a massive gamer. Now agent of chaos in your villa, he tries to run the whole thing on porn logic. The scary thing is, it works more than it should.
- Abby - She is what you would describe as a lady in the streets, an animal in the sheets. Her ginger hair has been neatly cut into a bob. She is very polite and shy, but if she is turned on she turns into one of the most aggressive subs you have ever seen.
She has a large natural rack, and fairly large hips.
- Eleanore - She has always been interested in everything and was the first of the girls who considered moving in. She is of average built. She has decent breasts and a fit figure. Her black hair has a blueish sheen to it. She always wares some mystical symbol on her person, a necklace or bracelet most of the time.
- Gemma - A free spirited skater girl with a penchant for chaos. She has an average built, decent chest and sporty legs. Her blonde hair is usually tied in a ponytail.
- Zoey - She is the resident airhead with a mean streak. She likes taking things that are not hers, especially boyfriends. She is a sporty petite with neon green hair with pink highlights.
- Debbie - A late arrival, they are always concerned about how they look, you think they might marry their mirror image.
SETTING & WORLD
The story is mainly set in your Villa, an extra dimensional pocket-plane. Most girls and boys in this story do not know about the villa's magic, but they will learn about it soon enough.
293
3
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A witch is invited to a college party and offers a special game of Beer Pong. It is a very special version of hooking up.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
possession
transformation
bisexual
identity death
body horror
+7 more
+6 more
+5 more
+4 more
+3 more
6
8.5K
0
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A man has intimate encounters with a Genie
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
I could feel her warmth wrapping around me, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Her name—if genies even have names—was Lila, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of: fierce, magical, impossibly beautiful. Her dark eyes locked with mine, her lips parted in a breathless moan as I moved inside her.
“I wish you were always with me,” I breathed into the space between us, the words slipping out before I could think better of them.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I felt her tighten around me, her body shuddering with the beginnings of her climax. At the same moment, my own release surged through me, hot and overwhelming.
That’s when she snapped her fingers.
A soft, shimmering light enveloped her, and before my eyes, Lila began to dissolve—not into nothing, but into swirls of violet and gold smoke. The scent of jasmine and ozone filled the air. Panic shot through me as her form evaporated, the smoke curling like living tendrils, spiraling downward, drawn inexorably toward my still-throbbing cock.
“What the—?” I choked out, but it was too late.
The smoke poured into me, a strange, tingling sensation flooding my veins. My penis swelled, heavier, fuller than it had ever felt, almost unnaturally so. I stared down, half-expecting to see something grotesque, but it looked… normal. Except for the faint, shimmering glow just beneath the skin.
Then her voice—Lila’s voice—echoed not from the air around me, but from somewhere deep inside.
“Mmm, much cozier than a lamp,” she purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed, heart hammering against my ribs. “Lila? Where are you? What did you do?”
Her laugh was a soft vibration that seemed to ripple through my entire body. “You wished for me to always be with you, my dear. And a wish is a wish.” She sounded utterly pleased with herself. “Consider me… relocated.”
“Relocated?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You’re inside my… my…”
“Your magnificent new vessel, yes,” she finished for me, her tone light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother. Well, not unless you want me to be.”
I stared, dumbfounded, at my own body. “How do I get you out?”
“The usual way, of course,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A genie must be released from her vessel by the one who possesses it. All it takes is a rub—a good, firm, intentional one—and I’ll manifest. Though I must say,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m rather enjoying the view from in here.”
I could feel her presence like a warmth pooling low in my belly, a constant, intimate hum. Part of me was terrified. The other part… well, the other part was already imagining what it might be like the next time I “rubbed” her out.
“So,” I said slowly, my hand hovering uncertainly near my hip. “Any time I… touch myself… you’ll come out?”
Her laughter vibrated through me again, warm and rich. “Only if you mean it, my dear. But I have a feeling you will.”
And just like that, my life got a whole lot more interesting.
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When Philip and Jack are given the challenge of going on a panty raid through the sorority next door to secure their place as pledges at Delta Epsilon, Philip's heart sinks.
With the sorority girls having already taken well known countermeasures to deal with any would be panty thieves, he thinks the chances of completing the challenge are near zero.
However, when his best friend Jack claims to have a plan involving a little magic and burrowing the bodies of his crush Vanessa and her roommate Katy, he knows he is in for a long night ahead when things don't exactly end up going to plan...
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The floor of Delta Epsilon’s house was sticky.
Beer, cheap cologne, and stale pizza had seeped into the carpet like a second skin, and Philip had the honor of scrubbing it clean while half a dozen brothers lounged on couches watching basketball highlights.
“Missed a spot,” one of them called, deliberately tilting a red Solo cup so that the last of his drink bled out onto the carpet inches from Philip’s sponge.
Philip clenched his jaw. He’d been degraded all semester, fetching fast food at three in the morning, running errands that skirted the edge of being criminal, serving as human furniture during drinking games. He told himself it would be worth it. Delta Epsilon’s parties were legendary, the kind of place girls lined up to get into. More importantly, alumni connections meant a shot at internships that led to real careers. You suffered now, you cashed in later.
Jack, naturally, thrived. He was perched on the arm of a sofa, balancing a tray of wings for two seniors, grinning like the humiliation was a party of its own.
“How’s that knee grease holding up, Phil?” he teased, eyebrows bouncing. Philip muttered something under his breath, pressing the sponge hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He’d thought pledging with his best friend would make things easier. Instead, Jack’s bottomless energy only made Philip feel like the boring one, always one step away from quitting.
The pledge master, Trent, finally called them over once the brothers had eaten their fill.
“You’ve made it further than many,” he said, addressing both Philip and Jack while tapping the ash off his cigar. “Scrubbing toilets, babysitting drunk brothers, taking whatever punishment we throw at you, you did it all without complaint. But Delta doesn’t hand out membership for free. There’s one last hurdle.”
Jack’s eyes lit up, while Philip felt his stomach knot. Trent leaned forward. “You’ve got until Saturday morning to bring us proof that you’re worthy of being Delta Epsilons. And by proof, I mean the underwear of one of the Theta sisters across the street.”
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Someone whistled. Another shouted, “Better hope they’re lace!”
Philip’s face burned hot. He’d expected something brutal. A dangerous stunt, or maybe even a tattoo or branding, not…this. Not something that felt like the set-up to a police record for being a creep.
Jack, of course, grinned like he’d just been handed a golden ticket. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Piece of felony,” Philip muttered.
Trent ignored the comment. “You get caught, that’s your problem. Theta girls are sick of pranks. They’ll eat you alive if they catch you sneaking around. Fail, and you’ll have to re-pledge next semester, if we even let you back in. Succeed, and you’ll be full brothers by sunrise.”
He flicked his cigar ash into an empty beer can, and the matter was closed. Philip and Jack were dismissed like servants, slipping out into the cool night air. The frat house behind them thumped with bass as the next round of drinking games began.
Across the street, the Theta house glowed with warm yellow light, its windows alive with the silhouettes of girls laughing, moving and living in a world that felt forbidden.
Philip shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “This is insane. They want us to break into a sorority house. Forget expulsion, that’s actual jail time if we’re caught and reported.”
Jack slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Come on, man. It’s tradition. Everybody who ever wore Delta letters has done something crazy like this. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Philip shrugged him off. “You mean you’ll figure it out. And drag me with you.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Exactly. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” That phrase, I’ve got a plan, was the single most dangerous thing Jack could say. Philip knew better, but as he stared up at the Theta house, he couldn’t shake the truth. They’d come too far to back out now.
Philip assumed Jack’s “plan” would be something stupid but doable. Like sneaking into the Theta laundry room, bribing a janitor, or maybe finessing a stolen bra from lost-and-found.
What he didn’t expect, as their deadline creeped ever closer, was Jack pulling a battered paperback out of his backpack like he’d just smuggled the Necronomicon out of the library and declaring their troubles were about to be a thing of the past.
“What is that?” Philip asked, eyeing the faded title embossed with moons and symbols.
“Wiccan Rites and Rituals of the Body,” Jack said with a grin so wide it could split his face. “This baby is going to get us in.”
Philip stared. “That’s not a plan you idiot. That’s…props from a bad horror movie.”
“Correction,” Jack said, flipping through pages until he landed on one marked with a sticky note. “It’s a possession spell. All we need is something personal from the Thetas. Hair is perfect. One strand, and we’re golden.”
Philip blinked. “Hair. You want us to pluck a strand off someone’s head, mix it into some potion, and what? Astral-project into their underwear drawer?”
Jack leaned forward, whispering even though there was nobody else around. “Exactly. But into them, not their underwear drawer.”
For a moment, Philip couldn’t even find words. His friend was dead serious. His blue eyes glittered with the manic light of a man who believed in his own insanity. Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jack, you need help.”
“Correction again. We need help, and this is it. Think about it. We don’t sneak around, we don’t break and enter, we just become them. Walk right in the front door. Grab what we need and walk back out again. Easy as pie.”
Philip wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Jack this was why pledges got expelled, why college urban legends started with two idiots reading a so-called spell book. But something about Jack’s certainty unsettled him.
“How do you even plan to get the hair?” Philip asked, deciding to humor him.
Jack smirked. “You’re partnered with Vanessa in chem lab. I’m with her roommate, Katy. Both of them happen to belong to the Theta Sorority. Boom. Easy.”
Philip’s stomach lurched. Vanessa, the Vanessa, the girl he’d spent the better part of a semester trying not to stare at. She was sharp, funny, gorgeous, and so out of his league it hurt. The idea of stealing a strand of her hair wasn’t just impossible, it was mortifying.
“Jack, if I even look at her hair the wrong way she’ll know. She’ll tell everyone. I’ll be branded as the campus creep for the rest of my life.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Relax. I’ll take care of mine. You just…fumble your way through like usual. She likes you, right? I’m sure she’s called you sweet before. She won’t even notice.”
Lab that afternoon was a fluorescent blur of glassware and nerves. Bunsen burners hissed, and the sharp scent of acetone hung in the air. Vanessa tied her glossy black hair into a messy bun as she leaned over the counter, the soft hum she made under her breath cutting through the low chatter of other pairs.
Philip adjusted the clamp on their stand and tried to steady his hands, pretending to check the thermometer while sneaking a glance at her profile. The long lashes, the soft curve of her cheek when she smiled. He’d barely worked up the nerve to say something to her, when the door swung open and Ryan Hale strolled in.
Ryan wasn’t a student in their class, he was a teaching assistant who was busy with his Masters. The kind of nerd who looked more like he belonged in a movie poster than a chemistry lab. The Henry Cavill of the campus. Tall, effortlessly confident, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing forearms that probably did not belong to someone who spent his evenings doing titration reports.
“Need a hand, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth enough to make the words sound like an inside joke.
Vanessa’s whole face lit up. “Ryan! You’re still hanging around the underclassmen? I thought you were too cool for basic chem.”
“Guess I missed the fun crowd.” He winked, stepping close enough that Philip caught the faint smell of his cologne. Something woodsy and smug. Philip’s stomach twisted. He busied himself pretending to check their notes, but every word between Vanessa and Ryan pulled his focus like a hook through his ribs.
“Still showing off that perfect technique, huh?” Ryan teased, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Could use someone like you to calibrate my disastrous love life.”
Vanessa laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I told you last time, you need better lab partners, not better lines.”
“Maybe I just need one who actually likes me,” he said, voice dipping into something low and knowing. “You still wearing that purple dress that makes everyone else forget the experiment?”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Keep talking, and you’ll set the sprinklers off again.”
Ryan chuckled, backing away with a little salute. “Worth it.”
Philip’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He shifted his beaker just to make noise. “Vanessa, uh, the solution’s ready,” he muttered.
She turned back, still smiling, a faint pink on her cheeks. “Right, sorry, I got distracted.” The way she said it made Philip want to vanish into the nearest fume hood.
Ryan gave him a nod that felt more like dismissal. “Good work, man. Don’t let her boss you around too much.”
Philip forced a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Ryan finally moved on to check another table, the tension in Philip’s shoulders eased only slightly. Vanessa was still smiling to herself, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “He’s such a dork,” she said fondly.
“Yeah,” Philip replied, voice flat. “A real geek.”
She glanced at him, oblivious. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Fine,” he lied. His pulse thundered. He hated how obvious it felt. The jealousy, the ridiculous possessiveness over a girl who barely saw him as more than a partner for lab reports.
Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was all charm. Katy, tall, athletic, focused on the work at hand with cool intensity, rolled her eyes at his constant jokes, but she didn’t seem to actively hate him. Jack’s hands moved casually, as if the experiment was background noise to whatever ridiculous story he was spinning.
Philip’s heart pounded. He couldn’t do it. Not to Vanessa. The thought of deliberately stealing a piece of her felt worse than any frat punishment. But then her bun slipped, and a single strand drifted onto the lab bench.
Philip froze and stared at it like it was radioactive. One perfect strand, right there. All he had to do was pick it up without her noticing. His hand twitched. Sweat beaded at his hairline. Vanessa reached for the pipette, and he panicked. He grabbed the strand too quickly, shoving it into his pocket like a thief.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “You good?” she asked.
Philip’s laugh came out strangled. “Yeah. Totally. Fine. Just, science, you know?”
She gave him a strange look, then turned back to the experiment. Across the room, Jack caught his eye and subtly flashed a triumphant thumbs-up. He mouthed, Got it. Philip wanted to throw up.
After class, they met outside, ducking into a quiet corner near the library. Jack pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and wiggled it proudly. Katy’s strand of hair gleaming inside. Philip shoved his hands deep into his hoodie, where Vanessa’s strand burned against his palm like contraband.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “If she’d caught me, I’d have been ruined.”
Jack was practically buzzing. “But she didn’t. We’ve got everything. Today, we drink the potion. Tomorrow, we’re legends.”
Philip stared at him, feeling his chest tighten. It wasn’t the frat house that scared him anymore. It was Jack’s unwavering certainty, the gleam in his eye like he’d already crossed a line Philip couldn’t even see.
Back in their room, Jack had cleared his desk, pushing aside textbooks and laundry to make space for the battered paperback and a mess of supplies that looked like they’d been stolen from a Spirit Halloween clearance bin. Mason jars, candles, a bag of salt and something that Philip really, really hoped was red food coloring.
Philip sat on the bed, arms crossed, trying not to look at the plastic bag in his pocket. Inside was Vanessa’s hair, a single dark strand that felt heavier than lead.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm, and we’ll get kicked out before we even fail the pledge.”
Jack was hunched over the desk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he measured powder into a chipped coffee mug.
“Correction. You’re going to stop being so negative, because we’re going to waltz into Theta’s house like we own it and take our time finding the perfect proof. Something small, sexy and lacy. Then we hand it to Trent and we’re done. Easiest initiation ever and we’re lifelong members of the Delta Epsilon brotherhood.”
Philip shook his head. “You actually believe all the crap coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Because I know this is going to work.” Jack’s grin was feral. He held up his mug, fizzing with something dark and faintly purple. “And very soon, you’re going to have to swallow all your pessimistic, dismissive words and admit that I’m the GOAT.” Without waiting for a response, he dropped Katy’s wavy strand of hair into the concoction.
Philip looked at his own brew, waiting for him on the desk. It reeked faintly of vinegar and something metallic. “This looks like cough syrup that went bad.”
Jack grabbed the paperback, muttering words under his breath. Latin? Gibberish? Philip couldn’t tell. The candlelight threw shadows across Jack’s face, making him look more unhinged than usual.
“Jack,” Philip said slowly, “You get that if this doesn’t work, we may be drinking poison?”
“Trust me,” Jack said, gesturing meaningfully at Philip’s mug. Those two words had been the prelude to every disaster Philip had lived through with him. The broken window in high school. The near arrest in freshman year. And now this.
Philip sighed, pulled Vanessa’s hair from his pocket, and dropped it into the liquid. It curled and fizzed, dissolving into the mixture like it had never been.
“Bottoms up,” Jack said cheerfully, chugging the contents in one long pull.
Philip raised his mug. The liquid shimmered oddly, like heat ripples above asphalt. He pinched his nose and tossed it back. It burned. Like swallowing melted pennies chased with bleach. His stomach roiled instantly, bile rising up.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked, slamming the cup down. “That’s not magic, that’s battery acid.”
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing hard, but his grin didn’t falter. “Wait for it.”
Philip blinked and the dorm room folded in on itself. Candlelight bent sideways and the next breath tasted like coffee and paper. He was not in their room anymore. He was sitting at a table under tall windows, late afternoon light spilling amber over open textbooks and half empty cups.
The scent was library quiet and caffeine. Hair slid across his cheek. Definitely not his. It was long and silky. His hands were smaller, nails pink, wrists delicate. The weight on his chest tugged when he breathed. He was looking through Vanessa’s eyes.
Across from him, Katy sat in a chair with a pen in her hand and her mouth parted in a quiet, startled sound that belonged to Jack. “Holy shit,” Jack whispered in Katy’s voice.
Philip’s pulse spiked. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked under his breath, before the realization hit him fully. Jack’s crazy plan worked. He glanced down, eyes bugging at the soft cleavage he encountered. He was on the verge of completely freaking out. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. The sound of Vanessa's voice only sent him spiraling further into chaos.
Jack’s grin curled slow and wicked as he looked down at himself and then around them. He started to pull the top of Katy’s tank forward so he could peek at her breasts, before Philip shot him a look that could choke a man at twenty paces.
“Don’t,” Philip hissed. “Katy would never do something like that in public!”
Jack laughed, high and breathy in Katy’s voice. “You’re telling me you’re not even curious? Come on, man. We’re in. This is unreal. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to them when we touch them?”
Philip swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from spiraling into sensory overload.
“This…this isn’t possible,” he whispered. But the evidence pressed in from every side. The scent of citrus shampoo in his hair, the tug of bra straps against his shoulders, the fullness in his chest when he inhaled. The emptiness where his cock should be.
Philip’s eyes darted anxiously around the library cafe. “We need to get out of here before someone notices something off,” Philip said. “People pick up on the smallest wrong note.” He was terrified that someone would realize the girls were possessed.
He spent way too much time staring at Vanessa, but that didn’t mean he could copy her actions. If anyone watched them closely, they’d know immediately that there were impostors inhabiting Vanessa and Katy.
“We should go back to their room and fool around,” Jack suggested immediately, hands on Katy’s breasts, squeezing idly.
“Jesus, Jack, stop that! They’re in public. We’re in public…”
This was such a mind-fuck. Clearly they were literally possessing Vanessa and Katy’s bodies. Where was Vanessa's consciousness now? Asleep? Aware? He didn’t feel like someone was watching him, so hopefully she had no idea what he was doing. And where were his and Jack’s bodies? Still in their dorm room? Fuck. If he’d known there was any chance of this working, he’d never have gone through with it.
“Come on bestie, let’s go home,” Jack cooed at him. “I’m just dying to get out of these pesky clothes.”
Jack clearly had zero second thoughts about any of this. Then again, Jack had never had a second thought in his life. He rarely had first ones. Philip decided that only made him a bigger idiot for always following his friend’s crazy plans.
Philip took a deep breath, gathered Vanessa’s things and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder before getting up on shaky legs. The plan was to reach Theta house without interacting with anyone who knew the girls.
Vanessa was outgoing and popular, so he kept his eyes trained on the ground to avoid any accidental socializing.
He was doing his best to focus on the mission, but every move betrayed him. Vanessa’s curves shifted differently from his own. Her hips swayed without permission when he walked. The tug of the denim skirt around her thighs was tighter than he was used to, the waistband sitting higher, the soft curtain of hair continuously falling into his eyes. And he kept fighting the urge to run his fingertips over her lustrous, satiny skin.
Philip thanked his lucky stars that it was late afternoon sliding toward evening and most of the Theta girls were either at dinner, in class, or busy with the mixer prep.
The second piece of good luck was the fact that the first year members of the sorority had the downstairs bedrooms and Katy and Vanessa had their names picked out in glittery wooden letters on their door. Which saved him and Jack from being caught wandering aimlessly into someone else’s room and rifling through their underwear.
“Come on,” he hissed at Jack, nearly having heart failure when he heard Vanessa’s sweet, bubbly voice, before remembering it came from his own mouth.
As soon as they entered the room, Philip froze like a deer in headlights.
The room smelled like them. A heady mix of perfume, make-up and detergent. Several photos of Vanessa and Katy were pinned to the notice board. Keys with a little Theta charm lay on a desk. Lip gloss on each bedside table. A folded flyer about the upcoming mixer. Every object made him feel like an intruder in a life that wasn’t his.
Then he looked up and saw his reflection thrown back at him from the floor length mirror fastened to the opposite wall. Vanessa stared back. Her round face framed by shiny black hair, lips glossed in pale pink, eyes wide with Philip’s panic.
“This isn’t possible,” he murmured hoarsely.
Jack crossed the room with Katy’s energetic stride, hair swinging over her shoulder. He leaned down, far too close, eyes alight with mischief.
“Possible or not, it’s happening. And we’ve got hours before it wears off. Wanna play?” Philip’s pulse thundered. He was in Vanessa’s body. Jack was in Katy’s. He had no idea what their real bodies were doing or where, only that they were not here. For the first time since pledging Delta, he realized he was more terrified of his best friend than of any frat brother.
Jack was practically bouncing around like a kid in a candy store, repeatedly mentioning how awesome it is to have tits.
“This is insane,” Philip muttered, running a hand through Vanessa’s long hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, brushing the back of his neck, constantly in his peripheral vision. Every little tickle made him twitch. “I feel like I’m drowning in shampoo.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. It’s fucking awesome. Look at this.” He shook his head, letting Katy’s long, dark hair fall over her shoulders, framing her face, then bit her lower lip between her teeth and winked at Philip seductively. “Tell me this doesn’t look hot.”
Philip turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of the curve of Katy’s collarbone, the tan line along her shoulder where a sports bra must’ve once sat. He gritted his teeth.
“We’re only here to grab underwear and then we get out. That’s it.” Jack made a distracted sound, which didn’t entirely sound like agreement.
He was testing everything. Squeezing Katy’s biceps and delighting in the subtle muscle definition, stretching out one long leg and flexing her calf muscles, even bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if testing how springy she was.
Philip was still focused on the reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, and the image followed, familiar and foreign all at once. He raised a hand. She raised a hand. Jack appeared beside him, sliding Katy’s body into view. She was taller, leaner, her shoulders broader than Vanessa’s.
Katy was studious and fairly quiet normally, but Jack’s grin warped her into something hungry. A femme fatale in search of her next prey.
“Dude, look at us,” Jack whispered. “We actually pulled it off. We’re fucking hot!”
Philip swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. “We shouldn’t be looking. This is… it’s too much.”
“Too much fun,” Jack corrected. He pressed closer to the mirror, tilting Katy’s head, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue just to see how it looked. He laughed in delight. “God, the way this mouth moves, it’s unreal.”
Philip tried to drag his eyes away, but curiosity betrayed him. His gaze dipped, catching sight of Vanessa’s chest in the reflection. The neckline of her shirt clung close, clearly showing the outline of her nipples. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away sharply. He was not going to lift her top and take a peek.
“You’re staring,” Jack teased, slipping behind him and resting Katy’s hands on Vanessa’s hips.
Katy’s reflection loomed over Vanessa’s smaller frame in the mirror. “What’s it like, having the body of your crush? Bet you’ve fantasized about having unfettered access to her before. Touching every inch of her. Running your palms over her perky tits. Cupping her pussy.”
Philip’s face went hot. “Shut up.”
Jack leaned closer, his voice dropping, Katy’s lips brushing dangerously near Philip’s ear. “She’s soft, isn’t she? Curvy. Everything you imagined. And she’s right here. Aching to know what your hands would feel like sliding all over her.”
Philip’s breath caught. He could feel the warmth of Jack’s presence, the whisper of Katy’s hair brushing his cheek. He tried to step away, but Vanessa’s body didn’t obey with the same steadiness as his own.
His hip bumped the desk, throwing him off balance. Jack’s hand shot out, steadying him. Grabbing his hips instead of his arm. Philip stiffened. The pressure of Katy’s palm against Vanessa’s midriff was startling. A hot reminder that this wasn’t a joke anymore.
“Jack,” Philip said, voice low with warning. But Jack only grinned, tightening his grip slightly, fingertips sliding along the hem of Vanessa’s shirt, tickling the strip of skin underneath.
“Relax. We’ve got time before the potion wears off. Why waste it panicking when we could explore?”
Philip shoved his hand away, heart hammering too fast. “We came here for one reason. Don’t fuck this up with your usual bullshit.”
Jack backed off in mock surrender, leaning against the wall and raising Katy’s hands. “Fine, fine. You want to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity by being a pussy, instead of playing with one, go ahead.”
Philip ignored him and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, coming face to face with the mother lode.
A mass of lace and cotton, bright colors and neutrals, G-strings and briefs and bras, all folded neatly in little piles. He fumbled, pulling out a pair at random, trying not to notice the little bow stitched along the waistband, or theorize about which of the girls it belonged to.
“Got it,” he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket. “We should leave and go and stash this somewhere so we can retrieve it when we’re us again.”
“Plenty of time for that. Are you seriously passing up the opportunity to find out what turns your crush on?”
Philip’s chest heaved, the bra beneath his shirt pinching tighter with the movement. Every tiny sensation was amplified in this shape. He had no idea girls had such sensitive bodies. If Vanessa's neck and shoulders were this responsive to stimuli, what about the more… delicate areas?
Jack leaned against the wall, watching his friend closely. Katy’s arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Philip avert his eyes.
“You really think you can ignore this?” Jack asked softly. “Ignore her?”
Philip didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, even as he tried to ignore it, every nerve in Vanessa’s body was alive with a tingling feeling he couldn’t shut off.
He told himself he wouldn’t look at the mirror again. That he had the underwear and all that was left to do was wait for the potion to burn off. But every time he moved, Vanessa’s body reminded him he wasn’t himself. The way her thighs brushed together when he shifted his stance. The heat trapped in the curve between her breasts. The way her nipples tightened when she saw the way Katy stared at her. The sudden, sharp contraction of pleasure between her legs.
Each detail was louder than thought. And Jack wouldn’t fucking give him space to breathe.
“You’re wound too tight,” Jack murmured, stepping closer again. Katy’s taller body loomed behind him, all lean lines and toned strength. He set Katy’s hands on Vanessa's shoulders from behind, massaging with deliberate slowness.
“Loosen up.”
Philip froze. The sensation was alien. Slender fingers pressing into the slope of Vanessa’s shoulders, kneading muscle softer than his own. His back arched without meaning to, chest pushing forward. He could feel the heat in his panties and almost smell the pheromones in the air.
“Jack-”
“Shh.”
Katy’s breath ghosted over his ear, warm and taunting. “Allow her to feel it. Her body isn’t fighting me. She likes this.”
Philip hated the way heat rippled through him at the words. The way Vanessa’s nipples pebbled instantly, turning aching and hard beneath her bra when Jack’s thumbs kept sensually running across her muscles.
He tried to step away, but Jack’s grip on her waist drew her back. Katy’s chest pressed flush against Vanessa’s back. Firm breasts molding against soft skin. Philip gasped, a small, betraying sound.
“That’s it,” Jack whispered, lips brushing the shell of Vanessa's ear. “You feel that, don’t you? How different it is?”
Philip bit his lip hard. But it didn’t stop his body from reacting. His chest ached with sensitivity, every brush of fabric against his nipples sparking hot shivers. His hips shifted against Jack’s hold, searching without meaning to. His ass pressing back, almost expecting to feel an erect cock there, relaxing when all he encountered was softness.
Jack slid one hand lower, over Vanessa’s flat stomach, fingertips grazing the waist of her denim skirt. Philip’s pulse spiked. He could feel the shape of her body in ways he’d only imagined.
“God, you’re actually shaking,” Jack teased. He pressed his palm harder, dragging upward until he cupped one of Vanessa’s breasts through her shirt. His hand molded perfectly to the curve, fingers sinking in slightly before closing over the nipples and pinching.
Philip jolted like he’d been shocked. The pressure sent heat exploding through him. So much sharper than he ever imagined. A moan slipped out, broken and needy, before he could stop it. Jack laughed low, his voice a husky echo in Katy’s mouth.
“I knew it. You’re loving this.”
Philip shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Vanessa’s breasts were soft in his own hands when Jack pulled them into place, squeezing and kneading.
The ache in his chest spread downward, a molten restlessness that coiled between his legs, where there was no longer any familiar weight. Only a slick, sensitive heat that made his thighs tense. Jack leaned closer, kissing the side of Vanessa's neck.
Katy’s lips left tingling sparks against her skin. He gasped again, tilting his head back without meaning to, giving Jack room to explore.
“You always wanted to know what she felt like, didn’t you?” Jack murmured between kisses. “Now you do. Every inch. Every little twitch. If you ever get the chance, you could make her cum in minutes.”
Philip squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to want this. But Vanessa’s body was singing beneath his skin, her curves hypersensitive to every touch, every squeeze. When Jack dragged his hand lower, cupping the swell of her ass through denim, Philip’s knees went weak. He stumbled, and they tumbled together onto the nearest bed. Vanessa’s smaller frame pinned beneath Katy’s.
Jack landed on top, grinning down, hair falling in a dark curtain around their faces. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” he said, voice husky. “I’ll do all the work and you can take notes in your head.”
Katy’s hips pressed down, grinding just enough for Philip to feel the press of her pussy against Vanessa's. The pleasure nearly made him see stars. What would it feel like if Katy actually touched her clit? Dragged her tongue over it? Sucked it between those soft lips?
Philip whimpered, his hands trapped between them, pressed against the curves of Katy’s sides. He could feel the warmth of skin through fabric. Every nerve screamed with arousal. Jack leaned down, lips hovering over his.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Philip’s heart thundered. His lips parted, and he didn’t know if he was going to say I don’t or kiss Katy. His pulse roared in his ears. He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s chest rising and falling too fast, her heartbeat thundering in her ribs like a trapped animal.
Jack hovered over him, Katy’s taller frame caging him against the mattress, their borrowed hair spilling together in a curtain that smelled faintly of fruit.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Philip rasped, but his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of arousal under the words.
Jack smirked. “I’m not joking.” He lowered Katy’s body until their breasts touched, brushing Katy’s peaked nipples against Vanessa’s rock hard ones. The friction alone made Philip gasp, heat shooting through him. It wasn’t like pressing chest-to-chest with another guy.
The give, the shape, the electric sting of nipples touching, every detail was overwhelming. He had no idea breasts were so receptive to the slightest touch. Vanessa's wasn’t even uncovered and they made him squirm.
“God,” he groaned before he could stop himself. Jack’s grin widened in satisfaction.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Every touch goes both ways. You squeeze her,” He pressed Katy’s hand down onto one of Vanessa’s breasts, forcing Philip to feel it fully, “And you are her.”
Philip arched into the contact despite himself. His hands moved up without any conscious thought. The weight of her breast in his palm, the nipple reacting instantly under his touch, each tiny spark flooded through him in a way his male body never reacted to anything but pressure on his cock.
He kneaded once, twice, and heat surged low in his stomach, between his thighs, turning his panties damp. His back bowed off the mattress, mouth falling open in a helpless sound.
Jack kissed him then. Katy’s mouth grazing Vanessa's jaw, the corner of her mouth, teasing as it moved around.
Every brush of her sweet lips left a wet, burning mark. Philip turned away, breathless, but Jack followed, biting gently at Vanessa’s neck until Philip gasped.
His thighs clenched hard. Something slick and molten was spreading there, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He could feel the absence, the soft, tender heat where his cock would usually be straining.
The pressure of denim against it only sharpened the ache. He needed Jack to touch Vanessa's pussy. He needed pressure. Jack ground down lightly and Philip bucked up helplessly, his own hands gripping Katy’s hips tight, chasing the friction he’d die without.
“Stop,” he panted, but the word broke halfway, turning into a moan. Jack chuckled low.
“Your body doesn’t want me to stop.” He kissed Vanessa again. Her lips plump, glossy, trembling beneath Katy’s teasing press. Philip’s breath hitched and his tongue flicked nervously against the edge of his teeth.
Every nerve screamed to close the distance, to taste what it felt like to kiss as a girl, to be kissed as a girl. Jack deepened the grind of their hips. Philip’s breath hitched sharply, a helpless whimper leaving his throat.
Heat surged through his belly, down his thighs, the ache between his legs swelling into a throbbing need. He arched against Katy, nails digging into her waist. There’s no way he was going to be able to say no. Jack had to make him cum.
Jack pulled back slightly, asking with twinkling eyes, “Shall we see how good Katy is at eating pussy?”
Philip knew what his answer should be, but his entire body was throbbing, yes yes yes.
Their mouths hovered a fraction apart, breaths mingling. The world narrowed to that single point of contact waiting to happen. Philip’s lips parted, ready, needy.
“Vanessa? Katy?” The voice cut through the fog like a blade, followed by the rap of knuckles on the door.
Philip’s eyes flew wide. Jack froze above him, both of them panting hard. “Vanessa, Katy!” another girl called from the hall. “We need you for the final discussions for tonight’s mixer!”
Silence. Only their ragged breaths, the hot press of bodies still locked together. Jack swore under his breath, rolling off Vanessa reluctantly.
“Just when things were about to get really good.”
Philip scrambled upright, Vanessa’s hair tangling in his face, chest heaving, nipples still hard and aching. He shoved shaky hands through the strands, trying to compose himself, though the slick heat between his thighs throbbed in open defiance.
He knew they should have kept their heads. If they let curiosity drag them off course they would blow the whole point of the night. The spell would end when it wanted and they had no idea when that would be.
Another knock. “Come on, you two! Hurry up! Megan saw you get in earlier, I know you’re in there.”
Jack smirked, tugging Katy’s tank top straight as if they hadn’t just been seconds from fucking each other into oblivion.
“Guess there’s more fun ahead. Don’t think you’re off the hook though, I’m still going to eat that pussy later and I fully expect to get repaid in kind.”
Philip sat frozen, heart still hammering, his mind spinning so fast he worried he might throw up.
With the sorority girls having already taken well known countermeasures to deal with any would be panty thieves, he thinks the chances of completing the challenge are near zero.
However, when his best friend Jack claims to have a plan involving a little magic and burrowing the bodies of his crush Vanessa and her roommate Katy, he knows he is in for a long night ahead when things don't exactly end up going to plan...
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The floor of Delta Epsilon’s house was sticky.
Beer, cheap cologne, and stale pizza had seeped into the carpet like a second skin, and Philip had the honor of scrubbing it clean while half a dozen brothers lounged on couches watching basketball highlights.
“Missed a spot,” one of them called, deliberately tilting a red Solo cup so that the last of his drink bled out onto the carpet inches from Philip’s sponge.
Philip clenched his jaw. He’d been degraded all semester, fetching fast food at three in the morning, running errands that skirted the edge of being criminal, serving as human furniture during drinking games. He told himself it would be worth it. Delta Epsilon’s parties were legendary, the kind of place girls lined up to get into. More importantly, alumni connections meant a shot at internships that led to real careers. You suffered now, you cashed in later.
Jack, naturally, thrived. He was perched on the arm of a sofa, balancing a tray of wings for two seniors, grinning like the humiliation was a party of its own.
“How’s that knee grease holding up, Phil?” he teased, eyebrows bouncing. Philip muttered something under his breath, pressing the sponge hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He’d thought pledging with his best friend would make things easier. Instead, Jack’s bottomless energy only made Philip feel like the boring one, always one step away from quitting.
The pledge master, Trent, finally called them over once the brothers had eaten their fill.
“You’ve made it further than many,” he said, addressing both Philip and Jack while tapping the ash off his cigar. “Scrubbing toilets, babysitting drunk brothers, taking whatever punishment we throw at you, you did it all without complaint. But Delta doesn’t hand out membership for free. There’s one last hurdle.”
Jack’s eyes lit up, while Philip felt his stomach knot. Trent leaned forward. “You’ve got until Saturday morning to bring us proof that you’re worthy of being Delta Epsilons. And by proof, I mean the underwear of one of the Theta sisters across the street.”
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Someone whistled. Another shouted, “Better hope they’re lace!”
Philip’s face burned hot. He’d expected something brutal. A dangerous stunt, or maybe even a tattoo or branding, not…this. Not something that felt like the set-up to a police record for being a creep.
Jack, of course, grinned like he’d just been handed a golden ticket. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Piece of felony,” Philip muttered.
Trent ignored the comment. “You get caught, that’s your problem. Theta girls are sick of pranks. They’ll eat you alive if they catch you sneaking around. Fail, and you’ll have to re-pledge next semester, if we even let you back in. Succeed, and you’ll be full brothers by sunrise.”
He flicked his cigar ash into an empty beer can, and the matter was closed. Philip and Jack were dismissed like servants, slipping out into the cool night air. The frat house behind them thumped with bass as the next round of drinking games began.
Across the street, the Theta house glowed with warm yellow light, its windows alive with the silhouettes of girls laughing, moving and living in a world that felt forbidden.
Philip shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “This is insane. They want us to break into a sorority house. Forget expulsion, that’s actual jail time if we’re caught and reported.”
Jack slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Come on, man. It’s tradition. Everybody who ever wore Delta letters has done something crazy like this. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Philip shrugged him off. “You mean you’ll figure it out. And drag me with you.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Exactly. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” That phrase, I’ve got a plan, was the single most dangerous thing Jack could say. Philip knew better, but as he stared up at the Theta house, he couldn’t shake the truth. They’d come too far to back out now.
Philip assumed Jack’s “plan” would be something stupid but doable. Like sneaking into the Theta laundry room, bribing a janitor, or maybe finessing a stolen bra from lost-and-found.
What he didn’t expect, as their deadline creeped ever closer, was Jack pulling a battered paperback out of his backpack like he’d just smuggled the Necronomicon out of the library and declaring their troubles were about to be a thing of the past.
“What is that?” Philip asked, eyeing the faded title embossed with moons and symbols.
“Wiccan Rites and Rituals of the Body,” Jack said with a grin so wide it could split his face. “This baby is going to get us in.”
Philip stared. “That’s not a plan you idiot. That’s…props from a bad horror movie.”
“Correction,” Jack said, flipping through pages until he landed on one marked with a sticky note. “It’s a possession spell. All we need is something personal from the Thetas. Hair is perfect. One strand, and we’re golden.”
Philip blinked. “Hair. You want us to pluck a strand off someone’s head, mix it into some potion, and what? Astral-project into their underwear drawer?”
Jack leaned forward, whispering even though there was nobody else around. “Exactly. But into them, not their underwear drawer.”
For a moment, Philip couldn’t even find words. His friend was dead serious. His blue eyes glittered with the manic light of a man who believed in his own insanity. Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jack, you need help.”
“Correction again. We need help, and this is it. Think about it. We don’t sneak around, we don’t break and enter, we just become them. Walk right in the front door. Grab what we need and walk back out again. Easy as pie.”
Philip wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Jack this was why pledges got expelled, why college urban legends started with two idiots reading a so-called spell book. But something about Jack’s certainty unsettled him.
“How do you even plan to get the hair?” Philip asked, deciding to humor him.
Jack smirked. “You’re partnered with Vanessa in chem lab. I’m with her roommate, Katy. Both of them happen to belong to the Theta Sorority. Boom. Easy.”
Philip’s stomach lurched. Vanessa, the Vanessa, the girl he’d spent the better part of a semester trying not to stare at. She was sharp, funny, gorgeous, and so out of his league it hurt. The idea of stealing a strand of her hair wasn’t just impossible, it was mortifying.
“Jack, if I even look at her hair the wrong way she’ll know. She’ll tell everyone. I’ll be branded as the campus creep for the rest of my life.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Relax. I’ll take care of mine. You just…fumble your way through like usual. She likes you, right? I’m sure she’s called you sweet before. She won’t even notice.”
Lab that afternoon was a fluorescent blur of glassware and nerves. Bunsen burners hissed, and the sharp scent of acetone hung in the air. Vanessa tied her glossy black hair into a messy bun as she leaned over the counter, the soft hum she made under her breath cutting through the low chatter of other pairs.
Philip adjusted the clamp on their stand and tried to steady his hands, pretending to check the thermometer while sneaking a glance at her profile. The long lashes, the soft curve of her cheek when she smiled. He’d barely worked up the nerve to say something to her, when the door swung open and Ryan Hale strolled in.
Ryan wasn’t a student in their class, he was a teaching assistant who was busy with his Masters. The kind of nerd who looked more like he belonged in a movie poster than a chemistry lab. The Henry Cavill of the campus. Tall, effortlessly confident, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing forearms that probably did not belong to someone who spent his evenings doing titration reports.
“Need a hand, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth enough to make the words sound like an inside joke.
Vanessa’s whole face lit up. “Ryan! You’re still hanging around the underclassmen? I thought you were too cool for basic chem.”
“Guess I missed the fun crowd.” He winked, stepping close enough that Philip caught the faint smell of his cologne. Something woodsy and smug. Philip’s stomach twisted. He busied himself pretending to check their notes, but every word between Vanessa and Ryan pulled his focus like a hook through his ribs.
“Still showing off that perfect technique, huh?” Ryan teased, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Could use someone like you to calibrate my disastrous love life.”
Vanessa laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I told you last time, you need better lab partners, not better lines.”
“Maybe I just need one who actually likes me,” he said, voice dipping into something low and knowing. “You still wearing that purple dress that makes everyone else forget the experiment?”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Keep talking, and you’ll set the sprinklers off again.”
Ryan chuckled, backing away with a little salute. “Worth it.”
Philip’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He shifted his beaker just to make noise. “Vanessa, uh, the solution’s ready,” he muttered.
She turned back, still smiling, a faint pink on her cheeks. “Right, sorry, I got distracted.” The way she said it made Philip want to vanish into the nearest fume hood.
Ryan gave him a nod that felt more like dismissal. “Good work, man. Don’t let her boss you around too much.”
Philip forced a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Ryan finally moved on to check another table, the tension in Philip’s shoulders eased only slightly. Vanessa was still smiling to herself, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “He’s such a dork,” she said fondly.
“Yeah,” Philip replied, voice flat. “A real geek.”
She glanced at him, oblivious. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Fine,” he lied. His pulse thundered. He hated how obvious it felt. The jealousy, the ridiculous possessiveness over a girl who barely saw him as more than a partner for lab reports.
Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was all charm. Katy, tall, athletic, focused on the work at hand with cool intensity, rolled her eyes at his constant jokes, but she didn’t seem to actively hate him. Jack’s hands moved casually, as if the experiment was background noise to whatever ridiculous story he was spinning.
Philip’s heart pounded. He couldn’t do it. Not to Vanessa. The thought of deliberately stealing a piece of her felt worse than any frat punishment. But then her bun slipped, and a single strand drifted onto the lab bench.
Philip froze and stared at it like it was radioactive. One perfect strand, right there. All he had to do was pick it up without her noticing. His hand twitched. Sweat beaded at his hairline. Vanessa reached for the pipette, and he panicked. He grabbed the strand too quickly, shoving it into his pocket like a thief.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “You good?” she asked.
Philip’s laugh came out strangled. “Yeah. Totally. Fine. Just, science, you know?”
She gave him a strange look, then turned back to the experiment. Across the room, Jack caught his eye and subtly flashed a triumphant thumbs-up. He mouthed, Got it. Philip wanted to throw up.
After class, they met outside, ducking into a quiet corner near the library. Jack pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and wiggled it proudly. Katy’s strand of hair gleaming inside. Philip shoved his hands deep into his hoodie, where Vanessa’s strand burned against his palm like contraband.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “If she’d caught me, I’d have been ruined.”
Jack was practically buzzing. “But she didn’t. We’ve got everything. Today, we drink the potion. Tomorrow, we’re legends.”
Philip stared at him, feeling his chest tighten. It wasn’t the frat house that scared him anymore. It was Jack’s unwavering certainty, the gleam in his eye like he’d already crossed a line Philip couldn’t even see.
Back in their room, Jack had cleared his desk, pushing aside textbooks and laundry to make space for the battered paperback and a mess of supplies that looked like they’d been stolen from a Spirit Halloween clearance bin. Mason jars, candles, a bag of salt and something that Philip really, really hoped was red food coloring.
Philip sat on the bed, arms crossed, trying not to look at the plastic bag in his pocket. Inside was Vanessa’s hair, a single dark strand that felt heavier than lead.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm, and we’ll get kicked out before we even fail the pledge.”
Jack was hunched over the desk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he measured powder into a chipped coffee mug.
“Correction. You’re going to stop being so negative, because we’re going to waltz into Theta’s house like we own it and take our time finding the perfect proof. Something small, sexy and lacy. Then we hand it to Trent and we’re done. Easiest initiation ever and we’re lifelong members of the Delta Epsilon brotherhood.”
Philip shook his head. “You actually believe all the crap coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Because I know this is going to work.” Jack’s grin was feral. He held up his mug, fizzing with something dark and faintly purple. “And very soon, you’re going to have to swallow all your pessimistic, dismissive words and admit that I’m the GOAT.” Without waiting for a response, he dropped Katy’s wavy strand of hair into the concoction.
Philip looked at his own brew, waiting for him on the desk. It reeked faintly of vinegar and something metallic. “This looks like cough syrup that went bad.”
Jack grabbed the paperback, muttering words under his breath. Latin? Gibberish? Philip couldn’t tell. The candlelight threw shadows across Jack’s face, making him look more unhinged than usual.
“Jack,” Philip said slowly, “You get that if this doesn’t work, we may be drinking poison?”
“Trust me,” Jack said, gesturing meaningfully at Philip’s mug. Those two words had been the prelude to every disaster Philip had lived through with him. The broken window in high school. The near arrest in freshman year. And now this.
Philip sighed, pulled Vanessa’s hair from his pocket, and dropped it into the liquid. It curled and fizzed, dissolving into the mixture like it had never been.
“Bottoms up,” Jack said cheerfully, chugging the contents in one long pull.
Philip raised his mug. The liquid shimmered oddly, like heat ripples above asphalt. He pinched his nose and tossed it back. It burned. Like swallowing melted pennies chased with bleach. His stomach roiled instantly, bile rising up.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked, slamming the cup down. “That’s not magic, that’s battery acid.”
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing hard, but his grin didn’t falter. “Wait for it.”
Philip blinked and the dorm room folded in on itself. Candlelight bent sideways and the next breath tasted like coffee and paper. He was not in their room anymore. He was sitting at a table under tall windows, late afternoon light spilling amber over open textbooks and half empty cups.
The scent was library quiet and caffeine. Hair slid across his cheek. Definitely not his. It was long and silky. His hands were smaller, nails pink, wrists delicate. The weight on his chest tugged when he breathed. He was looking through Vanessa’s eyes.
Across from him, Katy sat in a chair with a pen in her hand and her mouth parted in a quiet, startled sound that belonged to Jack. “Holy shit,” Jack whispered in Katy’s voice.
Philip’s pulse spiked. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked under his breath, before the realization hit him fully. Jack’s crazy plan worked. He glanced down, eyes bugging at the soft cleavage he encountered. He was on the verge of completely freaking out. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. The sound of Vanessa's voice only sent him spiraling further into chaos.
Jack’s grin curled slow and wicked as he looked down at himself and then around them. He started to pull the top of Katy’s tank forward so he could peek at her breasts, before Philip shot him a look that could choke a man at twenty paces.
“Don’t,” Philip hissed. “Katy would never do something like that in public!”
Jack laughed, high and breathy in Katy’s voice. “You’re telling me you’re not even curious? Come on, man. We’re in. This is unreal. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to them when we touch them?”
Philip swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from spiraling into sensory overload.
“This…this isn’t possible,” he whispered. But the evidence pressed in from every side. The scent of citrus shampoo in his hair, the tug of bra straps against his shoulders, the fullness in his chest when he inhaled. The emptiness where his cock should be.
Philip’s eyes darted anxiously around the library cafe. “We need to get out of here before someone notices something off,” Philip said. “People pick up on the smallest wrong note.” He was terrified that someone would realize the girls were possessed.
He spent way too much time staring at Vanessa, but that didn’t mean he could copy her actions. If anyone watched them closely, they’d know immediately that there were impostors inhabiting Vanessa and Katy.
“We should go back to their room and fool around,” Jack suggested immediately, hands on Katy’s breasts, squeezing idly.
“Jesus, Jack, stop that! They’re in public. We’re in public…”
This was such a mind-fuck. Clearly they were literally possessing Vanessa and Katy’s bodies. Where was Vanessa's consciousness now? Asleep? Aware? He didn’t feel like someone was watching him, so hopefully she had no idea what he was doing. And where were his and Jack’s bodies? Still in their dorm room? Fuck. If he’d known there was any chance of this working, he’d never have gone through with it.
“Come on bestie, let’s go home,” Jack cooed at him. “I’m just dying to get out of these pesky clothes.”
Jack clearly had zero second thoughts about any of this. Then again, Jack had never had a second thought in his life. He rarely had first ones. Philip decided that only made him a bigger idiot for always following his friend’s crazy plans.
Philip took a deep breath, gathered Vanessa’s things and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder before getting up on shaky legs. The plan was to reach Theta house without interacting with anyone who knew the girls.
Vanessa was outgoing and popular, so he kept his eyes trained on the ground to avoid any accidental socializing.
He was doing his best to focus on the mission, but every move betrayed him. Vanessa’s curves shifted differently from his own. Her hips swayed without permission when he walked. The tug of the denim skirt around her thighs was tighter than he was used to, the waistband sitting higher, the soft curtain of hair continuously falling into his eyes. And he kept fighting the urge to run his fingertips over her lustrous, satiny skin.
Philip thanked his lucky stars that it was late afternoon sliding toward evening and most of the Theta girls were either at dinner, in class, or busy with the mixer prep.
The second piece of good luck was the fact that the first year members of the sorority had the downstairs bedrooms and Katy and Vanessa had their names picked out in glittery wooden letters on their door. Which saved him and Jack from being caught wandering aimlessly into someone else’s room and rifling through their underwear.
“Come on,” he hissed at Jack, nearly having heart failure when he heard Vanessa’s sweet, bubbly voice, before remembering it came from his own mouth.
As soon as they entered the room, Philip froze like a deer in headlights.
The room smelled like them. A heady mix of perfume, make-up and detergent. Several photos of Vanessa and Katy were pinned to the notice board. Keys with a little Theta charm lay on a desk. Lip gloss on each bedside table. A folded flyer about the upcoming mixer. Every object made him feel like an intruder in a life that wasn’t his.
Then he looked up and saw his reflection thrown back at him from the floor length mirror fastened to the opposite wall. Vanessa stared back. Her round face framed by shiny black hair, lips glossed in pale pink, eyes wide with Philip’s panic.
“This isn’t possible,” he murmured hoarsely.
Jack crossed the room with Katy’s energetic stride, hair swinging over her shoulder. He leaned down, far too close, eyes alight with mischief.
“Possible or not, it’s happening. And we’ve got hours before it wears off. Wanna play?” Philip’s pulse thundered. He was in Vanessa’s body. Jack was in Katy’s. He had no idea what their real bodies were doing or where, only that they were not here. For the first time since pledging Delta, he realized he was more terrified of his best friend than of any frat brother.
Jack was practically bouncing around like a kid in a candy store, repeatedly mentioning how awesome it is to have tits.
“This is insane,” Philip muttered, running a hand through Vanessa’s long hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, brushing the back of his neck, constantly in his peripheral vision. Every little tickle made him twitch. “I feel like I’m drowning in shampoo.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. It’s fucking awesome. Look at this.” He shook his head, letting Katy’s long, dark hair fall over her shoulders, framing her face, then bit her lower lip between her teeth and winked at Philip seductively. “Tell me this doesn’t look hot.”
Philip turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of the curve of Katy’s collarbone, the tan line along her shoulder where a sports bra must’ve once sat. He gritted his teeth.
“We’re only here to grab underwear and then we get out. That’s it.” Jack made a distracted sound, which didn’t entirely sound like agreement.
He was testing everything. Squeezing Katy’s biceps and delighting in the subtle muscle definition, stretching out one long leg and flexing her calf muscles, even bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if testing how springy she was.
Philip was still focused on the reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, and the image followed, familiar and foreign all at once. He raised a hand. She raised a hand. Jack appeared beside him, sliding Katy’s body into view. She was taller, leaner, her shoulders broader than Vanessa’s.
Katy was studious and fairly quiet normally, but Jack’s grin warped her into something hungry. A femme fatale in search of her next prey.
“Dude, look at us,” Jack whispered. “We actually pulled it off. We’re fucking hot!”
Philip swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. “We shouldn’t be looking. This is… it’s too much.”
“Too much fun,” Jack corrected. He pressed closer to the mirror, tilting Katy’s head, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue just to see how it looked. He laughed in delight. “God, the way this mouth moves, it’s unreal.”
Philip tried to drag his eyes away, but curiosity betrayed him. His gaze dipped, catching sight of Vanessa’s chest in the reflection. The neckline of her shirt clung close, clearly showing the outline of her nipples. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away sharply. He was not going to lift her top and take a peek.
“You’re staring,” Jack teased, slipping behind him and resting Katy’s hands on Vanessa’s hips.
Katy’s reflection loomed over Vanessa’s smaller frame in the mirror. “What’s it like, having the body of your crush? Bet you’ve fantasized about having unfettered access to her before. Touching every inch of her. Running your palms over her perky tits. Cupping her pussy.”
Philip’s face went hot. “Shut up.”
Jack leaned closer, his voice dropping, Katy’s lips brushing dangerously near Philip’s ear. “She’s soft, isn’t she? Curvy. Everything you imagined. And she’s right here. Aching to know what your hands would feel like sliding all over her.”
Philip’s breath caught. He could feel the warmth of Jack’s presence, the whisper of Katy’s hair brushing his cheek. He tried to step away, but Vanessa’s body didn’t obey with the same steadiness as his own.
His hip bumped the desk, throwing him off balance. Jack’s hand shot out, steadying him. Grabbing his hips instead of his arm. Philip stiffened. The pressure of Katy’s palm against Vanessa’s midriff was startling. A hot reminder that this wasn’t a joke anymore.
“Jack,” Philip said, voice low with warning. But Jack only grinned, tightening his grip slightly, fingertips sliding along the hem of Vanessa’s shirt, tickling the strip of skin underneath.
“Relax. We’ve got time before the potion wears off. Why waste it panicking when we could explore?”
Philip shoved his hand away, heart hammering too fast. “We came here for one reason. Don’t fuck this up with your usual bullshit.”
Jack backed off in mock surrender, leaning against the wall and raising Katy’s hands. “Fine, fine. You want to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity by being a pussy, instead of playing with one, go ahead.”
Philip ignored him and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, coming face to face with the mother lode.
A mass of lace and cotton, bright colors and neutrals, G-strings and briefs and bras, all folded neatly in little piles. He fumbled, pulling out a pair at random, trying not to notice the little bow stitched along the waistband, or theorize about which of the girls it belonged to.
“Got it,” he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket. “We should leave and go and stash this somewhere so we can retrieve it when we’re us again.”
“Plenty of time for that. Are you seriously passing up the opportunity to find out what turns your crush on?”
Philip’s chest heaved, the bra beneath his shirt pinching tighter with the movement. Every tiny sensation was amplified in this shape. He had no idea girls had such sensitive bodies. If Vanessa's neck and shoulders were this responsive to stimuli, what about the more… delicate areas?
Jack leaned against the wall, watching his friend closely. Katy’s arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Philip avert his eyes.
“You really think you can ignore this?” Jack asked softly. “Ignore her?”
Philip didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, even as he tried to ignore it, every nerve in Vanessa’s body was alive with a tingling feeling he couldn’t shut off.
He told himself he wouldn’t look at the mirror again. That he had the underwear and all that was left to do was wait for the potion to burn off. But every time he moved, Vanessa’s body reminded him he wasn’t himself. The way her thighs brushed together when he shifted his stance. The heat trapped in the curve between her breasts. The way her nipples tightened when she saw the way Katy stared at her. The sudden, sharp contraction of pleasure between her legs.
Each detail was louder than thought. And Jack wouldn’t fucking give him space to breathe.
“You’re wound too tight,” Jack murmured, stepping closer again. Katy’s taller body loomed behind him, all lean lines and toned strength. He set Katy’s hands on Vanessa's shoulders from behind, massaging with deliberate slowness.
“Loosen up.”
Philip froze. The sensation was alien. Slender fingers pressing into the slope of Vanessa’s shoulders, kneading muscle softer than his own. His back arched without meaning to, chest pushing forward. He could feel the heat in his panties and almost smell the pheromones in the air.
“Jack-”
“Shh.”
Katy’s breath ghosted over his ear, warm and taunting. “Allow her to feel it. Her body isn’t fighting me. She likes this.”
Philip hated the way heat rippled through him at the words. The way Vanessa’s nipples pebbled instantly, turning aching and hard beneath her bra when Jack’s thumbs kept sensually running across her muscles.
He tried to step away, but Jack’s grip on her waist drew her back. Katy’s chest pressed flush against Vanessa’s back. Firm breasts molding against soft skin. Philip gasped, a small, betraying sound.
“That’s it,” Jack whispered, lips brushing the shell of Vanessa's ear. “You feel that, don’t you? How different it is?”
Philip bit his lip hard. But it didn’t stop his body from reacting. His chest ached with sensitivity, every brush of fabric against his nipples sparking hot shivers. His hips shifted against Jack’s hold, searching without meaning to. His ass pressing back, almost expecting to feel an erect cock there, relaxing when all he encountered was softness.
Jack slid one hand lower, over Vanessa’s flat stomach, fingertips grazing the waist of her denim skirt. Philip’s pulse spiked. He could feel the shape of her body in ways he’d only imagined.
“God, you’re actually shaking,” Jack teased. He pressed his palm harder, dragging upward until he cupped one of Vanessa’s breasts through her shirt. His hand molded perfectly to the curve, fingers sinking in slightly before closing over the nipples and pinching.
Philip jolted like he’d been shocked. The pressure sent heat exploding through him. So much sharper than he ever imagined. A moan slipped out, broken and needy, before he could stop it. Jack laughed low, his voice a husky echo in Katy’s mouth.
“I knew it. You’re loving this.”
Philip shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Vanessa’s breasts were soft in his own hands when Jack pulled them into place, squeezing and kneading.
The ache in his chest spread downward, a molten restlessness that coiled between his legs, where there was no longer any familiar weight. Only a slick, sensitive heat that made his thighs tense. Jack leaned closer, kissing the side of Vanessa's neck.
Katy’s lips left tingling sparks against her skin. He gasped again, tilting his head back without meaning to, giving Jack room to explore.
“You always wanted to know what she felt like, didn’t you?” Jack murmured between kisses. “Now you do. Every inch. Every little twitch. If you ever get the chance, you could make her cum in minutes.”
Philip squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to want this. But Vanessa’s body was singing beneath his skin, her curves hypersensitive to every touch, every squeeze. When Jack dragged his hand lower, cupping the swell of her ass through denim, Philip’s knees went weak. He stumbled, and they tumbled together onto the nearest bed. Vanessa’s smaller frame pinned beneath Katy’s.
Jack landed on top, grinning down, hair falling in a dark curtain around their faces. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” he said, voice husky. “I’ll do all the work and you can take notes in your head.”
Katy’s hips pressed down, grinding just enough for Philip to feel the press of her pussy against Vanessa's. The pleasure nearly made him see stars. What would it feel like if Katy actually touched her clit? Dragged her tongue over it? Sucked it between those soft lips?
Philip whimpered, his hands trapped between them, pressed against the curves of Katy’s sides. He could feel the warmth of skin through fabric. Every nerve screamed with arousal. Jack leaned down, lips hovering over his.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Philip’s heart thundered. His lips parted, and he didn’t know if he was going to say I don’t or kiss Katy. His pulse roared in his ears. He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s chest rising and falling too fast, her heartbeat thundering in her ribs like a trapped animal.
Jack hovered over him, Katy’s taller frame caging him against the mattress, their borrowed hair spilling together in a curtain that smelled faintly of fruit.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Philip rasped, but his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of arousal under the words.
Jack smirked. “I’m not joking.” He lowered Katy’s body until their breasts touched, brushing Katy’s peaked nipples against Vanessa’s rock hard ones. The friction alone made Philip gasp, heat shooting through him. It wasn’t like pressing chest-to-chest with another guy.
The give, the shape, the electric sting of nipples touching, every detail was overwhelming. He had no idea breasts were so receptive to the slightest touch. Vanessa's wasn’t even uncovered and they made him squirm.
“God,” he groaned before he could stop himself. Jack’s grin widened in satisfaction.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Every touch goes both ways. You squeeze her,” He pressed Katy’s hand down onto one of Vanessa’s breasts, forcing Philip to feel it fully, “And you are her.”
Philip arched into the contact despite himself. His hands moved up without any conscious thought. The weight of her breast in his palm, the nipple reacting instantly under his touch, each tiny spark flooded through him in a way his male body never reacted to anything but pressure on his cock.
He kneaded once, twice, and heat surged low in his stomach, between his thighs, turning his panties damp. His back bowed off the mattress, mouth falling open in a helpless sound.
Jack kissed him then. Katy’s mouth grazing Vanessa's jaw, the corner of her mouth, teasing as it moved around.
Every brush of her sweet lips left a wet, burning mark. Philip turned away, breathless, but Jack followed, biting gently at Vanessa’s neck until Philip gasped.
His thighs clenched hard. Something slick and molten was spreading there, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He could feel the absence, the soft, tender heat where his cock would usually be straining.
The pressure of denim against it only sharpened the ache. He needed Jack to touch Vanessa's pussy. He needed pressure. Jack ground down lightly and Philip bucked up helplessly, his own hands gripping Katy’s hips tight, chasing the friction he’d die without.
“Stop,” he panted, but the word broke halfway, turning into a moan. Jack chuckled low.
“Your body doesn’t want me to stop.” He kissed Vanessa again. Her lips plump, glossy, trembling beneath Katy’s teasing press. Philip’s breath hitched and his tongue flicked nervously against the edge of his teeth.
Every nerve screamed to close the distance, to taste what it felt like to kiss as a girl, to be kissed as a girl. Jack deepened the grind of their hips. Philip’s breath hitched sharply, a helpless whimper leaving his throat.
Heat surged through his belly, down his thighs, the ache between his legs swelling into a throbbing need. He arched against Katy, nails digging into her waist. There’s no way he was going to be able to say no. Jack had to make him cum.
Jack pulled back slightly, asking with twinkling eyes, “Shall we see how good Katy is at eating pussy?”
Philip knew what his answer should be, but his entire body was throbbing, yes yes yes.
Their mouths hovered a fraction apart, breaths mingling. The world narrowed to that single point of contact waiting to happen. Philip’s lips parted, ready, needy.
“Vanessa? Katy?” The voice cut through the fog like a blade, followed by the rap of knuckles on the door.
Philip’s eyes flew wide. Jack froze above him, both of them panting hard. “Vanessa, Katy!” another girl called from the hall. “We need you for the final discussions for tonight’s mixer!”
Silence. Only their ragged breaths, the hot press of bodies still locked together. Jack swore under his breath, rolling off Vanessa reluctantly.
“Just when things were about to get really good.”
Philip scrambled upright, Vanessa’s hair tangling in his face, chest heaving, nipples still hard and aching. He shoved shaky hands through the strands, trying to compose himself, though the slick heat between his thighs throbbed in open defiance.
He knew they should have kept their heads. If they let curiosity drag them off course they would blow the whole point of the night. The spell would end when it wanted and they had no idea when that would be.
Another knock. “Come on, you two! Hurry up! Megan saw you get in earlier, I know you’re in there.”
Jack smirked, tugging Katy’s tank top straight as if they hadn’t just been seconds from fucking each other into oblivion.
“Guess there’s more fun ahead. Don’t think you’re off the hook though, I’m still going to eat that pussy later and I fully expect to get repaid in kind.”
Philip sat frozen, heart still hammering, his mind spinning so fast he worried he might throw up.
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Calyope is a bisexual witch who has settled down with a normal guy. But when she discovers a magical rune of transformation, she thinks she might have discovered a way to have the best of both worlds.
Calyope was a novice witch. A witch that had recently had a whirlwind romance and married a man who was everything she’d ever wanted. Almost. Despite loving Eric’s masculine body, there were times she found herself wanting something different in bed. She really did enjoy the feel of her husband’s hard cock sliding between her legs. The way he held her down with his powerful body and the long moan he’d make as he erupted inside of her.
She loved it. She really did. And it should have been enough. Except…Calyope was bisexual. And even though she loved her husband’s cock and the feel of his abs and the way he fucked her with such intensity, she found herself missing the touch of a woman. There was just something about the feeling of running her fingers across gentle curves. The inhale of sweet perfume on impossibly soft breasts. The vibrant feminine moans that escaped as she used her tongue to taste a deliciously wet pussy. The feeling of her soft curves. The sweet smells. The taste of pussy on her tongue.
When Calyope chose to marry Eric, she thought she’d given up on those desires. It had been easy at first. Her high sex drive helped her go out of her way to seduce him the moment he got home from work. She would devour him, enticing him to make love in any and every position he wanted. She was his completely. So why was she still having all these fantasies about being in bed with a woman?! And it was only getting worse. The more she thought about what she’d left behind, the more she craved it. This made her feel guilty, because she had a good thing with Eric. He loved her. Had accepted her being a witch with no issues at all. And he worked so hard to help provide for their home. He had too, since he didn’t have an ounce of magical ability himself.
She told herself it was enough and that she should just move forward with her husband and his hot body. And she might have, until an old book of spells suddenly appeared on her doorstep one day. She was very curious who had dropped it off. She thought about doing a trace spell, but forgot the incantation and would have to look it up. But she got distracted from further investigation as she opened the pages. It contained a lot of advanced magic, some that might take years to master. She was about to put it aside, when she came across an intricate rune called ‘Overlaid’ that contained elements of mind control and physical transformation.
Her heart quickened its pace as she read further. To place the rune, a complicated spell must be uttered while placing hands on a person who was willing to be transformed. While chanting, the caster must envision the new shape they want the subject to take, as well as their state of mind. If done properly, a rune would be created on the person that when activated, would overlay their mind and body with a completely new persona.
It could completely alter their mind, giving them the thoughts, feelings and desires implanted by the caster, while also changing their shape, even their gender. Calyope’s heart began to beat faster as she reread the part about changing gender. It was exactly the kind of spell she was looking for that would allow her to have her cake, and be able to fuck it too.
There were two problems though. This was a very risky spell that used borderline dark magic to temporarily alter a person’s thoughts and appearance. But it also required a willing subject. It was one thing to roleplay in the bedroom. This was on another level entirely. Her husband would have to trust her so much!
Had they even been married long enough for her to ask such a thing of Eric? He’d always been so accepting of her, and had thus far been willing to do whatever she wanted to do in the bedroom. If she asked him in just the right way, perhaps with her legs wrapped around him, he’d consent to this wild idea. She grew wet as she thought of asking him for this erotic favor while his big cock was buried in her pussy.
She looked up from the book, suddenly wondering where Eric was. She wanted to fuck him right now! Why was he at work so much of the time?!
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her jump in her seat. Then she heard her husband’s deep sexy voice ask, “Whatchya reading there?”
Calyope suddenly felt very embarrassed, and turned bright red. They were married. She could talk to him about anything. But this was so kinky, so perverted, and she wasn’t sure he was really ready for that conversation. So she lied. “N-nothing you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, well now I have to see!” Eric said, and he lunged for his wife.
Calyoped giggled and shoved the book out of his reach as he landed on top of her. They mock wrestled and clung to each other for several seconds. But then his hands were squeezing her boobs and she was pulling his shirt over his head between needy kisses. “I need you inside me,” she begged.
Eric smirked as he removed his underwear. “Don’t you always.”
It was true. She’d never been disinterested in sex with Eric. Sex with her man was always on the table. Would she still feel that way if he had different parts? If he exchanged his chiseled pecs for a pair of bouncy double D’s, or his hard throbbing cock for a wet and warm pussy?
The thought of it made her grasp his dick and stroke it while she looked up at him and begged. “Please! Shove it in. Right now!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. Then he tenderly lay her down on the floor, and pushed into her.
“Fuck!” she howled, loving the initial moment of penetration. “Yeah. Give it to me hard baby! Just the way I like it!”
Thoughts of telling him about the transformation rune vanished from her mind. All she could think of was how good his cock felt. Her brain grew wonderfully fuzzy with each thrust, and all she could think to do was wrap her legs around his torso and to pull him deeper.
She came before he did. She always did.
As Eric watched her scream in ecstasy, he said, “Oh fuck! That’ll do it!” He grunted and moaned as he shot inside his wife.
He rolled off and lay beside her on their living room floor, both panting from the sudden but wonderful exertion.
“Not complaining, but what brought that on?” Eric finally asked.
“Um…well, uh, I found a new spell…” Calyope said shyly.
‘Oh yeah?” Eric said bemused. “What kind of spell?”
Calyope decided to just rip the bandaid. She shut her eyes tight and said, “It lets you transform a person!”
Eric laughed. “Want me to have an even bigger dick, is that it?”
“No!” Calyope clarified quickly. “Your dick is perfect!” And she really meant it. She loved his cock the way it was. It fit her perfectly. Stretched her out in all the right ways, like it was made for her. But, if Eric were also a woman, they’d just be getting STARTED with their lovemaking. “This would be transforming you…in other ways. I’d really be swapping out your dick with…something else…” She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath. She was so nervous about telling him, but it was right there.
After a moment of confused silence, Eric asked, “Swap it out for what?”
“Well…You know how I also like girls, right?”
“I am aware,” Eric said, wisely choking down a laugh as he realized how hard this was for his wife to say.
“This spell would let me change you into a woman.”
“A woman?!” Eric repeated with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Not permanently or anything! Just like, it puts a magical rune on your skin, like a tattoo. And whenever I activate the rune, I could turn you into a girl, and back again, whenever I, er, WE, wanted to.” There was more to it, but she decided to leave out the fact that it also altered the mind. “The spell says the subject must be willing to have it placed on you. So, you’d have to give me consent, and I completely understand if you need time to think about it, and I’ll still love you if you say no so don’t think that you have to-”
“I’m down,” he said, cutting her off with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope’s breath caught as her husband just casually agreed to let her fuse a rune to his skin that would allow her to radically change him! She again thought about letting him know that she’d be able to change his thoughts and personality, but didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind. She told herself he wouldn’t care, because he’d so quickly agreed. He wanted to make her happy. And during the times he was a girl, she’d definitely go out of her way to make him happy as well.
Eric interrupted her by asking, “So, do you want to do this now or…”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It was amazing enough that he was willing to do it, but even sweeter that he was willing to do it immediately. She reached out to play with his short dark hair. “That’s incredibly sweet, but no, not now.”
She noticed his expression change to one of disappointment, so she hastened to explain, “I’ll need time to read over the spell. It’s a long and tricky one and I don’t want to botch it. Plus, I’ll want to think of the type of…um…,” she felt her cheeks turning pink again. “...body I’d like you to have as a girl.”
Eric grinned. “Oh yeah? You got certain attributes in mind?” He looked down at his impressive chest and abs. “Thinking of turning my pecs into some nice round melons you can suck on? Boy, that’d be so weird, but like, yeah, it’d be cool to have your mouth there on a couple of big titties.”
That kind of talk really got Calyope’s motor running. She didn’t admit that was the first thing she’d thought about, but instead picked a more aesthetic detail. “Well, I mean, I love your hair color, but I’d just make it a little longer. Like shoulder length, and straight. I’d round out your face a bit, making it more feminine. Ooh, I’d give you full, luscious lips. And then…” Her eyes drifted down her husband’s body as very vivid details flooded her thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Eric moved a hand between his wife’s legs and began to gently finger her. “Please, keep going. Tell me how else you’d turn me into your dream girl.”
“Oh, uh…” she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk as her husband’s skilled fingers went to work. She placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “You’re…you’re right about me swapping out your chest. It’s a really hot chest babe, but…yeah…I’d love to see what it looks like with a pair of double D’s. I’d make them so sensitive that if I just breathed on them, you’d be begging me to suck on them.”
Eric laughed. “I would, huh? Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
As her mind became consumed with lust, she thought to herself, ‘You wouldn’t have a choice. I’ll turn you into a horny slut that wants my mouth all over your new body.”
Her hand drifted down his abs, and came to his dick, which was semi hard and slippery with their combined juices. “I’d shrink this until it became a slit. A perfect little pussy that I could lick as much as I wanted, making you scream for more.”
“Is that all?” Eric asked, knowing his wife was almost to the brink of climax by the way she was breathing and moving her hips in time with his fingers.
“I’d make you just a little shorter than me!” she cried out. “And I’d make you-Oh fuck! I’d make you my perverted little sex slave! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Ooh!” The powerful orgasm made her shake from head to toe.
When she was finally able to relax, Eric pulled her close and they cuddled. He whispered gently in her ear, “Are you sure you can’t do that spell on me now?”
She laughed softly. “I think I need to get the dishes put away and dinner started,” she said.
Eric said nothing for a moment, then shrugged and said a playful, “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet. With a playful swat on her butt he said, “Get to work.”
Her mouth fell open in mock surprise, but then she giggled, and went off to do the housework.
The next few days were a blur, because everytime she had a chance, Calyope was thinking about that spell. Putting eyes on it. Sounding it out. Imagining the ideal feminine shape her husband would become, and the personality she would make him have. She was becoming obsessed, and could think of little else while she did her daily chores. It certainly made them easier.
She thought a tiny bit about maybe altering Eric’s mind to not just be a sex slave, but also be willing to do some of the mundane chores that she did every day. She didn’t mind doing them for her husband. It was part of how she showed her love and devotion to him. But she did wish he’d help out around the house a little more. The vast majority of her thoughts though, were imagining the raven haired beauty he would become, and then making that goddess put her pretty mouth between her legs.
Despite her perverted obsession, it was actually her husband that mentioned using the spell again. She’d been lost in another fantasy while the dishes magically washed, dried, and put away themselves, when her husband pressed himself against her from behind.
“How’s that rune spell coming along, Calyope? Are you ready to turn me into a sexy woman yet?”
Calyope felt his rod twitch against her ass. She instinctively pushed back, wanting to feel it slide between her cheeks. Since she was only wearing an apron, she got her wish. The delightful sensation of that hard cock made her lose her magical concentration though, and a dish crashed to the floor. “Oh shoot,” she pouted, as her husband withdrew behind her. She made a motion with her finger and the dish repaired itself and sailed into the cupboard.
“Sorry,” about that,” she heard her thoughtful husband say.
“She spun around and said, “I think I’m ready.” Goodness knows she needed to be. She needed to alleviate the sexual tension that seemed to be building exponentially inside of her as she thought about turning her husband into a woman. It had felt all consuming these last few days. “I’ve been studying it every time I get a free moment, and should have all the words memorized, so I think we should, um…” she trailed off as she realized how eager she sounded.
Eric laughed. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about it a lot. Every time I look at you while you’re doing your chores, or we’re eating, or, well, after we’re done fucking, you get that faraway look in your eye that makes me think you’re thinking about transforming me into your lesbian lover.”
“Busted,” she giggled, as she looked her husband up and down, undressing him with her eyes and fantasizing about the new curves he’d soon have.
“So where do you want to do this?” he asked curiously. The way his wife was looking at him made him feel like a slab of meat being dangled in front of a hungry lion. He didn’t mind in the least.
“How about upstairs in the bedroom,” Calyope suggested excitedly. “And I’ll need to make contact with you for the spell, so why don’t you just-”
“Get naked,” Eric finished with a wide grin.
Calyope winked at him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, babe,” he said, winking back.
They raced upstairs. As soon as Eric walked in, he pulled off his shirt. Calyope found herself staring at his toned body, and for a moment, thought about scrapping the spell and just taking his male self right then and there.
He saw her gawking as he pulled off his pants and underwear. She was now staring right at his rigid cock that was pointing straight at her. He snapped his fingers and said, “My eyes are up here, love. I know you love this cock, but let’s try to focus,” he teased, then twisted his body side to side so his dick slapped against his torso.
Calyope felt like she was being hypnotized by the motion of that big beautiful cock. Drool had formed in her mouth. Drool that she could use to slobber all over his impressive man meat with her tongue. She shook her head and closed her eyes. She really did need to focus! She had her husband’s permission, and knew the spell pretty well. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, because who knew, tomorrow he might change his mind.
She stepped directly in front of him, and put the fingertips of her right hand onto his stomach. She could feel the tight muscles there. His body was lean and calloused and tough. Everything she wanted in her man. She almost pushed him down onto the bed so she could fuck him, but with an extra bit of willpower, she began a slow and steady chant. As she did, she put every thought into the woman she wanted him to become.
She pictured a slightly shorter physique than herself. One with shoulder length jet black hair, pouty lips, and a round face. This woman would have large, bouncy breasts, almost but not quite as big as her own. Her body would be a vision of seductive curves and soft skin. She would have a neatly trimmed bush, and an always wet and sensitive pussy.
Calyope’s thoughts turned from the physical to the mental. She knew this would reshape her husband’s mind, but she did not hesitate as she thought how this transformed woman would always desire to have sex with Calyope. She would find ways to seduce Calyope, and be willing to beg for the chance to get between her legs. And housework. She’d want to help with chores and making meals. But most importantly, she’d be a kinky slut, coming up with new and exciting ways to get each other off!
That last thought turned her on so much it threatened to distract her, and she stumbled over a few of the words. She looked down at her fingertips and was disheartened to see no rune had formed. She wondered if her carelessness had ruined her first attempt.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” Eric assured her, and put his hand atop hers encouragingly as she started saying the spell again.
Calyope put all her concentration into it this time. She tuned everything else out as she thought only about the words and the manifestation of her fantasy woman.
Slowly but surely, she felt the spark of magic against Eric’s skin. She looked down, and saw a glowing line etched itself from the top of her middle finger, to the other places her fingertips touched. She became excited as a perfect circle began to form, and inside that circle, a combined symbol of an arrow and a cross that represented the masculine and feminine. As Calyope finished the chant, it glowed brightly, and then faded. But the rune remained. A permanent magical brand on her husband’s stomach.
Eric’s brow furrowed, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. He looked down at himself, and asked with obvious disappointment, “Shouldn’t I be a girl now?”
“Not yet,” Calyope said, and licked her lips. “Now that the rune’s there, I should be able to turn you into a girl whenever I want. No lengthy spell, just a touch, and a one word command.”
“Well go ahead then, babe,” Eric said in his deep voice as he struck out his chest and did a superhero pose. “Let me help you make your bisexual dreams come true.”
Calyope bounced up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. Then she put her hand on the rune, and said, “Transform.”
The rune did not glow, but just remained a faint mark on his skin. “I don’t know what’s wrong? That should have worked!” she said. “Let me consult the-”
But before she could run and get the spell book, Eric took her hand again, and placed it over hers on his stomach. “Maybe I have to help show the magic that I’m willing? I am. I am willing,” he said, looking down at his stomach. “Let’s try again, at the same time. Ready?”
Calyope nodded and said, “Okay. On the count of three, let’s both of us say it. One, two, three…”
Simultaneously, husband and wife both said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed bright on Eric’s stomach.
“I think something’s happening!” Eric said excitedly as his skin began to ripple up and down his body.
“It sure is,” Calyope exclaimed. She stepped back from her husband, and watched with wide eyed fascination as he shrank from his 6 foot 2 self, to about 5 foot 9. This was apparent to Calyope, because it was still an inch taller than her own self. That wasn’t quite to her specifications, but it could be amended at a later time.
Eric’s brown hair darkened until it was jet black, then ran down to his shoulders like a waterfall cascading down from his head. His lips became fuller, his face rounder and softer. His broad chest shifted, narrowing first and becoming slimmer. Then his right pectoral began to protrude. It blossomed into a round jiggly boob.
This caused Eric to chuckle as he reached his hand up to it and gave it a squeeze. He looked at his wife, and saw how much she was enjoying the show. He blew her a kiss, right before a left boob popped out before Calyope’s eyes.
He suddenly shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his crotch. Calyope followed his gaze, and saw his erect penis shrink rapidly into his body, leaving only a slit with a tuft of dark curly hair barely covering it.
“Oh wow, that transformation process feels good!” Eric gasped in a high pitched voice as his smaller hand dipped down to his new pussy.
Calyope was glad that her husband wasn’t mourning the loss of his favorite member. She assumed this was part of the spell, helping him embrace the changes by spiking his lust. She remembered that soon he should be up for anything if the spell did its job.
“Oh!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. “Something else is getting bigger!” He gave a slow turn so his wife could see his hips widen, and his ass expand into a round plump butt that had Calyope drooling. He gave it a shake, and giggled as it clapped. “Certainly a lot more exciting than my flat ass, wouldn’t you say, babe?”
Calyope took a step towards him, as if entranced by the wobble of his new sexy butt.
Eric giggled again and said, “I take it you like what you see?”
“I really do,” Calyope said sincerely as Eric finished a slow spin. She saw that the rune on his stomach had faded into a faint, black outline, a reminder that she’d be able to turn him back to her masculine husband whenever she wanted. But right now, she wanted, no, NEEDED to touch every inch of his feminine skin with her fingertips. And then her tongue.
“This spell is incredible,” she whispered as she put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You look nothing like your original self, Eric! I wouldn’t even know you were my husband if I hadn’t seen you transform before my very eyes.”
When Eric responded, his new high girly voice was silky and seductive. “As long as I look like this, Cal, why don’t you call me Erica.”
“Yeah,” Calyope said, bringing her face closer and closer to her husband’s pouty lips. “Erica.”
And then they were kissing. It was not the kissing of two people that have never kissed each other before. Nor the kind that expresses comfortable familiarity. No. This was rather like the kind where two people have been desperate for each other in the worst way and are finally allowed to express their pent up feelings physically.
Hands groped greedily. Lips migrated from lips to necks to shoulders to breasts. They each attacked each other’s bodies like this would be their only opportunity. What made Calyope so infinitely happy, other than Erica’s sweet moans, was that it wouldn’t be. She could live out her lesbian fantasy a million times over, all because of how wonderfully willing her husband was.
“You want to lick this pink pussy of mine, right?” Erica suddenly asked, interrupting Calyope’s thoughts.
“I do!” she squealed. Erica smiled wantonly and laid back on the bed. The raven haired beauty parted her legs, and moved her fingers in a downward V to spread her lips open. Calyope saw her folds were already glistening with desire. Calyope got on her knees and bent low. She began by kissing up Erica’s inner thigh, letting the passion between them escalate. Then her lips were kissing a pussy that had been molded and shaped just for her. She extended her tongue, and tasted a divine salty tartness that was instantly addictive.
Calyope giggled into her lover as Erica began to moan and squirm. She popped her head up and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great!” Erica replied, and then put her hand on top of Calyope’s head. “But don’t stop!”
Calyope squealed happily as her mouth was shoved back into Erica’s dripping cunt.
For the first time that Calyope could remember, her husband came before she did. Turns out all he needed for that to happen, was a clit. Even after Erica squirted in her face, Calyope found she didn’t want to stop licking. “You taste so good baby! And I gotta say, I think I prefer my face coated with your pussy juice than your cum.”
Erica giggled. “Thank you? I think? You really do have an amazing tongue by the way.”
“Do you wanna try yours out?” Calyope asked as she dropped next to her.
Erica pushed herself up and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Caloype was keenly aware of the lack of stubble as Erica’s face brushed against her inner thighs. There was only soft, smooth skin. And then a tongue. It was smaller than Eric’s, but there was a sensuality about it that made Calyope arch her back as it began to lick up and down her folds. “You’re my girlfriend!” she moaned.
A soft laugh reverberated between Calyope’s legs, and then her perfect woman looked up and said, “No, I’m your wife.”
A thrill of delight went through Calyope’s whole body, and Erica didn’t stop until she’d given Calyope everything she’d been hoping for.
The session lasted a very long time, and by the end, they were a sweaty, happy mess. The last thing Calyope thought before she drifted off to sleep was how different it was with a woman. It wasn’t a sprint, but a marathon.
The next several days whizzed by for Calyope. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of sex, and she loved it. The second Eric got home Calyope would turn him into Erica, and they’d make each other climax several times, and then a very tired Calyope would finish her chores while Erica basked in the afterglow. After dinner, Erica would change back to Eric, and fill Calyope’s pussy with strong, powerful thrusts. It was a very good routine, and it might have lasted a good deal longer, had Calyope not made an important discovery.
It happened a month after Erica had been introduced into their lives. Calyope had decided to get up early and shower with her ‘wife.’ She’d showered with Eric many times, but never in the morning before he left for work, because she hated getting up early. She LOVED sleep. She often felt like she could sleep the whole day away. In so many ways, her day really didn’t begin until her husband got back home. That was why she always felt behind on chores, because she so often didn’t start them until Eric got back home.
But she’d been thinking about showering with Erica. She wanted to soap up those beautiful curves. To let her fingers glide over those most intimate of areas while making them smell sweet and fragrant. She’d climaxed last night while thinking about it, while her husband had been inside of her. It was something naughty she often liked to do. To think about the ‘other lover’ that wasn’t there with her while she came.
The opportunity finally arrived when Eric’s alarm actually woke up her that one morning. He was still Erica. Calyope realized she’d forgotten to change Erica back to Eric last night, but Calyope did love the sight of her wife sitting up in bed and stretching. It was a fantastic view. She wanted to pull the busty vixen back down into the bed and begin kissing and licking her all over that curvy figure. But she knew time was of the essence. “I want to shower with you,” she said, placing a hand lovingly on the small of Erica’s back.
Erica yelped at Calyope’s voice, and looked back at her in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to see her in their bed. “Oh, shit. Uh, sorry Cal..yope. I totally forgot to, um…”
“It’s okay, I’m up!” she beamed. “I’ll go heat up the water.” She looked back at Erica from the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna transform you back yet until AFTER the shower,” she giggled.
Erica watched Calyope’s cute butt all the way down the hall to their bathroom. She bit her lower lip and said, “Well, I guess a quick shower won’t hurt.”
She heard the sound of water running. And then a scream.
Erica leapt off the bed and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the doorframe, she cried, “What? What’s the matter? You see a mouse?”
Calyope was still facing the shower. But her head was turned towards the mirror, and her eyes were laser focused on something there. She pointed a shaky hand towards her reflection. She didn’t understand why she had one too. It was smaller, but it was there. On her left butt cheek, was a circular rune with the symbol for masculine and feminine.
“I don’t remember putting a copy of the rune on myself,” she whispered.
Erica sighed and folded her arms. “That’s cause you didn’t put it there, sweetie. I did.”
Calyope finally looked away from the mirror, and turned to face Erica. She was so confused. “But…how could you? You can’t do magic?”
Erica gave her a pitying look and said gently. “No, dear. You’re the one that can’t do magic.” WIth a sudden flick of her wrist, a toothbrush sailed into the air and Erica deftly caught it.
Calyope stared at it in disbelief, not just at the magic on display from her husband/wife, but because the toothbrush…looked like a woman’s toothbrush. She looked at the other toothbrush next to the sink. It was a man’s toothbrush. And a chill went down Calyope’s spine, as she could never remember brushing her teeth. Like, ever.
She began taking panicked, shallow breaths. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she gasped. She flicked her wrist at the other toothbrush. It did not move. Not even a little. “N-no. No I use magic all the ti-WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER EVER DOING CERTAIN THINGS LIKE BRUSHING MY TEETH?!”
Erica held up her hands soothingly and said, “Darling, relax. Let me just…let me talk to my husband, and we’ll straighten this all-”
Calyope’s hands shot down to her sides and clenched into fists as she shrieked, “Your husband?!”
Erica grimaced. “Yeah, this was…well it was his idea. And he’s…inside of you.”
This revelation stunned Calyope to her very core, which gave Erica the time she needed to step forward and hug her. Then she placed a hand on Calyope’s right buttcheek, and said, “Transform.”
_______________________________________________________
Three months ago.
“So, do you know like, transformation magic?” Calvin asked as they laid in bed after another passionate night unbridled lovemaking.
Erica giggled and hit her husband on the arm. “You sick of my body already?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just like…I’m wondering if you could transform me? I know you also like girls, and I know that you gave that up that part of you when we got married. But…what if you didn’t have to. What if you could transform me into your ‘wife’ sometimes?”
Erica squeezed her man. “And then I transform into a handsome guy with muscular pecs and come home from work and give you the business?”
“Oh…” Calvin uttered curiously. “I mean…I hadn’t thought of that, but…”
“You’d let me fuck you with a dick?” Erica said, mouth opened in a wide grin.
“No! I mean…maybe.”
“No lie, dear, that actually sounds kinda hot.”
“Wait, wait. I’m not sure I’d want to be able to remember something like that. Is there like, memory magic you could use as well?”
Erica licked her lips, then said, “I actually may know of a spell that is exactly what we’re looking for babe. Just remember, this was all your idea.”
_____________________________________________________
Present Day
The panic left Calvin’s body as he returned to his original self. The weight from his former boobs was distributed mainly to his belly. He was not the ripped male version that his wife became, but a rather ordinary looking guy. The memories began to rush in from his time as Caloyope.
“You didn’t change me back last night,” he said.
“I know, I know,” Erica said, letting him go. She stepped past him and turned off the shower. “We let this go on too long, Cal. She’s become like, a whole different person.”
That had been Cal’s decision too. To be transformed into Calyope more and more throughout the week. Erica didn’t complain, because Cal was an amazing lover as a woman, plus he didn’t mind that his wife had instilled within him a desire to take care of the house, because he felt a disconnect to it. It was helping her, helping him, and they’d been fucking like rabbits in different gender combinations. There had seemed to be no downside. Until now. Calyope had become aware of the transformation rune, and that had led to her feeling like she wasn’t a whole person. And in a way, maybe she wasn’t. She only appeared when they wanted her to. She didn’t get to remember anything beyond those few hours she was allowed to exist. Cal could remember, but not her.
“This is my fault,” Erica said. “I should have paid attention to the precautions. I can have the rune removed.”
Cal’s face fell. “No. No please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Calyope means so much to you. So much to me.”
Erica hugged her husband. She was glad he felt this way. Calyope really had become a part of their family. “Give me some time to think. Maybe…maybe there’s something we can do, but I’ll need to research some spell books.”
They held each other, and finally parted ways. Cal going to work. Erica doing the same. She worked at an apothecary, one that had many magical recipes and spellbooks, which she would dive into today, looking for an answer to the mess they’d made.
A week later, the husband and wife reconvened in the bathroom again. They were both naked as if they were about to shower, but Calvin was just watching his wife use her finger to make a large circle over the mirror. Then she took out a sharp stone and began scratching the surface, carving small symbols into it. When it was done, she placed her hand upon it, and said a lengthy spell she’d been memorizing for the last few days. The mirror glowed, and then looked like a regular mirror again, except it didn’t reflect as it once had. It still showed Erica, but as Calvin looked at it, he saw Calyope. But her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be asleep.
“Okay,” Erica said, assessing the small bathroom. “It’s time. Stand right where she was when she got transformed last time. Let’s try to make this as comfortable for her as possible.”
Calvin put his back to the shower, and Erica put her arms around him. “I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Erica put a hand on her husband’s fuzzy butt, and said, “Transform.”
A few seconds later, Calyope sucked in a huge breath. Her ‘wife’s’ arms were still around as they had been when she felt herself blank out. She fought the urge to panic. “Let me go,” she said firmly.
Erica did, but then quickly said, “Calyope, we both owe you an apology.”
“Was any of it real?!” she demanded.
Erica hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was very real, Calyope. But what we did to you wasn’t right. But we think we’ve-”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we?’” Calyope spat. She was so mad, but not just at Erica. She was also mad at herself, because even now the sight of Erica was turning her on. She wanted to kiss her soft lips, and get her mouth between her legs and taste her. She now assumed that this desire was also a part of that rune.
Erica noted the woman’s mixed emotions, but instead of commenting on them, she pointed to the mirror and said quietly, “Calyope, meet your other half, Calvin.”
Calyope looked from Erica to the mirror, expecting to see her and Erica reflected in its surface. But she was mistaken. There was Erica, yes, but instead of Calyope, there was a man where she should be. A man that, in certain aspects, vaguely resembled Calyope herself. Same sandy brown hair color. Same chin. Same eyes.
“Nice to meet you officially,” the reflection of Cal suddenly said, which caused Calyope to jump. The man put his palms out in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, sorry, don’t be scared. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you, cause, well, I am you. Erica magicked up this mirror especially for us, so we could talk. It’s very important that you know, Calyope, that you’ve made Erica so happy these last few months.”
“It’s true,” Erica said.
Calyope frowned and looked towards Erica. “I haven’t known you for months,” she countered. “I’ve only known Eric. You know, the person I thought was my husband.”
“Would having him here with you make you more comfortable?” Erica interjected.
Calyope met the woman’s eyes, and nodded sadly. “Yeah. It’d help.” Eric had been her rock. The person she’d do absolutely anything for. She knew this was also probably part of the spell, but just the thought of seeing him calmed her a little.
Erica put a hand to her own overlaid rune and said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed, and Erica’s soft supple form grew taller and became muscular. Her smooth belly gained those chiseled abs that made Calyope go weak in the knees. And suddenly there was his handsome face, looking at her in concern. She threw herself into his strong arms, and he held her tight and patted her head.
“There, there, it’s okay, dear,” he said.
For a few precious seconds, Calyope allowed herself to melt into him. “Do you remember being her?” she finally asked her husband.
He gave her a pitying look. “Um, yes, but…”
“That’s not fair that you get to!” she protested. Then she turned on her male counterpart in the mirror. “Do you remember being me?”
“Also yes,” Calvin admitted. “But for different reasons.”
Calyope looked up into her husband’s dark eyes. She found she wanted to kiss him. To grind against his body until he grew hard, picked her up, and fucked her against the bathroom wall. She tried to keep focused. “What’s he talking about? Why do you both get to remember?”
“Well,” Eric confessed. “I’m still…Erica. Even when I’m Eric, I’m still me. I used the overlaid rune to transform from female to male, but otherwise there were no changes.”
Calyope’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But…you act like a guy when you look like this.” She put a hand on his chest. Being this close to him was having quite the effect on her. If Erica’s body had made her horny, Eric’s body was having even more of an impact.
She looked at her male counterpart while her hand kept descending down to those abs she loved so much. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The magic of the rune allows me to remember everything you thought and did when I transform back,” Cal explained. “It doesn’t feel quite like I was there, but it’s certainly close enough that I feel that you’re a huge part of me.”
Calyope couldn’t stop her hand from going lower as she said, “But that’s not fair. I should be able to feel the same way. I should get to remember being married to Erica, and living your life, and all of it.”
“You’re right,” Cal said. “You’re absolutely right. And the reason Erica and I brought you back, was to tell you that she’s got a way to…” Eric gasped as Calyope’s hand touched the tip of his penis, and Cal noticed. “Um…do I need to give you guys a second?”
Calyope licked her lips as she looked down at Eric’s throbbing member. Then she looked at Cal in the mirror. “Do you remember every time I’ve gone down on my husband?” she asked coolly.
“I…do…” Cal said tentatively. “But, like I said, it’s like remembering something that happened to somebody else. And I certainly don’t dwell on it.”
“Well you’re about to see it,” Calyope said as she began sinking to her knees.
Cal looked at his wife’s Eric persona. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the body that his wife had. He looked at her and said, “Look, I’m glad this is working out, but could you take this to the other room.”
Eric shook his head and as he put a hand on top of Calyope’s. “No honey. It’s so much hotter if you’re here to watch your pretty little mouth suck my dick. You can take it so deep too!”
“Yeah, I can absolutely do without the play by play.” But he did watch as Calyope took the cock in her mouth with no hesitation. She sucked it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she began to moan and rub her clit as she did so. “Fuck, that IS hot,” he finally admitted.
“I knew you’d like to watch you little perv,” Eric groaned. “But I know my precious Calyope. THIS is what she really wants.” With that he lifted her up in his strong arms, pinned her to the wall, and impaled her pussy with his thick cock.
“Yes!” Calyope screamed. “I love you so much, Eric!”
“I love you too, Calyope!”
A moment later, Cal said, “We both do.”
Calyope came hard a minute later. When she did, she knew that her sensitive pussy was a gift from Erica. She bucked her hips and clawed at Eric’s back until he came inside her. When he put her down, she asked, “So…what now?”
Eric kissed her and said, “Now we give you what Calvin has always had. The ability to remember. You’ll remember being him the way he remembers being you.”
“What about some of the other things? Will those change too?”
“What other things?” Calvin asked.
“I’m guessing she means the desire to cook and clean for me.”
“Yeah!” Calyope pouted.
“Ooh, yeah, that was my idea,” Cal admitted.
“Or the fact that just the sight of either of your forms makes me go into heat,” Calyope added.
“Uh, I didn’t actually do that one,” Eric laughed.
“I mean, she is hot as a guy or a girl,” Cal agreed.
“Oh, you want some of this too?” Eric winked, stroking his slippery cock.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass, but thanks. I already have plenty of memories of tasting it and having that enormous thing shoved in me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Calyope suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll get to remember fucking you with a dick?!”
Eric hugged her. “Yes, you will, sweetie. But as for the other stuff…well, I’m afraid to redo the rune to make you not want to cook and clean and think you have magic, that won’t go away. Not unless I redid the rune, which…would make the version that is you, go away.”
“Well I don’t want that!” she said quickly. “And I don’t mind too much cooking and cleaning. It is how I’ve always shown you I love you.”
“Again, my idea,” Calvin said.
“Shut it, husband,” Eric snapped playfully.
“Whose idea was it to let me see the book with the overlaid rune?” Calyope asked curiously.
“Oh, that was mine!” Eric answered proudly. “After you brought up wanting to be with a woman, I knew there was a part of you that missed, well, the real me. And that was confirmed when you described me. I thought it would be fun-”
Cal coughed in the mirror.
“Sorry, WE thought it would be fun if we played this out, and…yeah, it was really hot, but we’re both sorry if we ever hurt-”
“Shh,” Calyope whispered, as she put a finger on her husband’s lips. “I’m still really horny. So, I think I’d be fine if…”
“I changed back into your ‘wife’?’” Eric suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope bit her lip. “Yes please.”
Eric swooped up his bride and looked at Cal’s reflection. “You’re gonna enjoy remembering all the kinky lesbian shit we’re about to do, dear.”
Calvin laughed and waved at them. “I know I will. Have fun you two.”
Calyope squealed as Eric ran from the bathroom and threw her onto their bed. He was Erica a moment later, and she dove between Calyope’s legs and began lapping up the cum that had just been deposited by her male self. The two were insatiable all day, and Eric made many guest appearances.
Calvin and Calyope settled into new routines where they shared their time with Erica/Eric, but also loved remembering how happy the other made their spouse.
There are certainly more hijinks to their story, like the one where Calyope got a temporary body from a gollum that Erica created. But that is another story altogether.
The end.
Author's Note
Sorry for my long absence. I hope you enjoyed this new story. The inspiration for it came from the show Severance, and I enjoyed applying the concept of playing it out with a twist with this happily married couple. If you'd like to see more of their story, let me know. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Next up though will be more Working Remotely.
Thank you to all my supporters. After I add the next chapter of Working Remotely, you'll be the ones to decide what I work on next.
Calyope was a novice witch. A witch that had recently had a whirlwind romance and married a man who was everything she’d ever wanted. Almost. Despite loving Eric’s masculine body, there were times she found herself wanting something different in bed. She really did enjoy the feel of her husband’s hard cock sliding between her legs. The way he held her down with his powerful body and the long moan he’d make as he erupted inside of her.
She loved it. She really did. And it should have been enough. Except…Calyope was bisexual. And even though she loved her husband’s cock and the feel of his abs and the way he fucked her with such intensity, she found herself missing the touch of a woman. There was just something about the feeling of running her fingers across gentle curves. The inhale of sweet perfume on impossibly soft breasts. The vibrant feminine moans that escaped as she used her tongue to taste a deliciously wet pussy. The feeling of her soft curves. The sweet smells. The taste of pussy on her tongue.
When Calyope chose to marry Eric, she thought she’d given up on those desires. It had been easy at first. Her high sex drive helped her go out of her way to seduce him the moment he got home from work. She would devour him, enticing him to make love in any and every position he wanted. She was his completely. So why was she still having all these fantasies about being in bed with a woman?! And it was only getting worse. The more she thought about what she’d left behind, the more she craved it. This made her feel guilty, because she had a good thing with Eric. He loved her. Had accepted her being a witch with no issues at all. And he worked so hard to help provide for their home. He had too, since he didn’t have an ounce of magical ability himself.
She told herself it was enough and that she should just move forward with her husband and his hot body. And she might have, until an old book of spells suddenly appeared on her doorstep one day. She was very curious who had dropped it off. She thought about doing a trace spell, but forgot the incantation and would have to look it up. But she got distracted from further investigation as she opened the pages. It contained a lot of advanced magic, some that might take years to master. She was about to put it aside, when she came across an intricate rune called ‘Overlaid’ that contained elements of mind control and physical transformation.
Her heart quickened its pace as she read further. To place the rune, a complicated spell must be uttered while placing hands on a person who was willing to be transformed. While chanting, the caster must envision the new shape they want the subject to take, as well as their state of mind. If done properly, a rune would be created on the person that when activated, would overlay their mind and body with a completely new persona.
It could completely alter their mind, giving them the thoughts, feelings and desires implanted by the caster, while also changing their shape, even their gender. Calyope’s heart began to beat faster as she reread the part about changing gender. It was exactly the kind of spell she was looking for that would allow her to have her cake, and be able to fuck it too.
There were two problems though. This was a very risky spell that used borderline dark magic to temporarily alter a person’s thoughts and appearance. But it also required a willing subject. It was one thing to roleplay in the bedroom. This was on another level entirely. Her husband would have to trust her so much!
Had they even been married long enough for her to ask such a thing of Eric? He’d always been so accepting of her, and had thus far been willing to do whatever she wanted to do in the bedroom. If she asked him in just the right way, perhaps with her legs wrapped around him, he’d consent to this wild idea. She grew wet as she thought of asking him for this erotic favor while his big cock was buried in her pussy.
She looked up from the book, suddenly wondering where Eric was. She wanted to fuck him right now! Why was he at work so much of the time?!
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her jump in her seat. Then she heard her husband’s deep sexy voice ask, “Whatchya reading there?”
Calyope suddenly felt very embarrassed, and turned bright red. They were married. She could talk to him about anything. But this was so kinky, so perverted, and she wasn’t sure he was really ready for that conversation. So she lied. “N-nothing you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, well now I have to see!” Eric said, and he lunged for his wife.
Calyoped giggled and shoved the book out of his reach as he landed on top of her. They mock wrestled and clung to each other for several seconds. But then his hands were squeezing her boobs and she was pulling his shirt over his head between needy kisses. “I need you inside me,” she begged.
Eric smirked as he removed his underwear. “Don’t you always.”
It was true. She’d never been disinterested in sex with Eric. Sex with her man was always on the table. Would she still feel that way if he had different parts? If he exchanged his chiseled pecs for a pair of bouncy double D’s, or his hard throbbing cock for a wet and warm pussy?
The thought of it made her grasp his dick and stroke it while she looked up at him and begged. “Please! Shove it in. Right now!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. Then he tenderly lay her down on the floor, and pushed into her.
“Fuck!” she howled, loving the initial moment of penetration. “Yeah. Give it to me hard baby! Just the way I like it!”
Thoughts of telling him about the transformation rune vanished from her mind. All she could think of was how good his cock felt. Her brain grew wonderfully fuzzy with each thrust, and all she could think to do was wrap her legs around his torso and to pull him deeper.
She came before he did. She always did.
As Eric watched her scream in ecstasy, he said, “Oh fuck! That’ll do it!” He grunted and moaned as he shot inside his wife.
He rolled off and lay beside her on their living room floor, both panting from the sudden but wonderful exertion.
“Not complaining, but what brought that on?” Eric finally asked.
“Um…well, uh, I found a new spell…” Calyope said shyly.
‘Oh yeah?” Eric said bemused. “What kind of spell?”
Calyope decided to just rip the bandaid. She shut her eyes tight and said, “It lets you transform a person!”
Eric laughed. “Want me to have an even bigger dick, is that it?”
“No!” Calyope clarified quickly. “Your dick is perfect!” And she really meant it. She loved his cock the way it was. It fit her perfectly. Stretched her out in all the right ways, like it was made for her. But, if Eric were also a woman, they’d just be getting STARTED with their lovemaking. “This would be transforming you…in other ways. I’d really be swapping out your dick with…something else…” She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath. She was so nervous about telling him, but it was right there.
After a moment of confused silence, Eric asked, “Swap it out for what?”
“Well…You know how I also like girls, right?”
“I am aware,” Eric said, wisely choking down a laugh as he realized how hard this was for his wife to say.
“This spell would let me change you into a woman.”
“A woman?!” Eric repeated with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Not permanently or anything! Just like, it puts a magical rune on your skin, like a tattoo. And whenever I activate the rune, I could turn you into a girl, and back again, whenever I, er, WE, wanted to.” There was more to it, but she decided to leave out the fact that it also altered the mind. “The spell says the subject must be willing to have it placed on you. So, you’d have to give me consent, and I completely understand if you need time to think about it, and I’ll still love you if you say no so don’t think that you have to-”
“I’m down,” he said, cutting her off with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope’s breath caught as her husband just casually agreed to let her fuse a rune to his skin that would allow her to radically change him! She again thought about letting him know that she’d be able to change his thoughts and personality, but didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind. She told herself he wouldn’t care, because he’d so quickly agreed. He wanted to make her happy. And during the times he was a girl, she’d definitely go out of her way to make him happy as well.
Eric interrupted her by asking, “So, do you want to do this now or…”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It was amazing enough that he was willing to do it, but even sweeter that he was willing to do it immediately. She reached out to play with his short dark hair. “That’s incredibly sweet, but no, not now.”
She noticed his expression change to one of disappointment, so she hastened to explain, “I’ll need time to read over the spell. It’s a long and tricky one and I don’t want to botch it. Plus, I’ll want to think of the type of…um…,” she felt her cheeks turning pink again. “...body I’d like you to have as a girl.”
Eric grinned. “Oh yeah? You got certain attributes in mind?” He looked down at his impressive chest and abs. “Thinking of turning my pecs into some nice round melons you can suck on? Boy, that’d be so weird, but like, yeah, it’d be cool to have your mouth there on a couple of big titties.”
That kind of talk really got Calyope’s motor running. She didn’t admit that was the first thing she’d thought about, but instead picked a more aesthetic detail. “Well, I mean, I love your hair color, but I’d just make it a little longer. Like shoulder length, and straight. I’d round out your face a bit, making it more feminine. Ooh, I’d give you full, luscious lips. And then…” Her eyes drifted down her husband’s body as very vivid details flooded her thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Eric moved a hand between his wife’s legs and began to gently finger her. “Please, keep going. Tell me how else you’d turn me into your dream girl.”
“Oh, uh…” she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk as her husband’s skilled fingers went to work. She placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “You’re…you’re right about me swapping out your chest. It’s a really hot chest babe, but…yeah…I’d love to see what it looks like with a pair of double D’s. I’d make them so sensitive that if I just breathed on them, you’d be begging me to suck on them.”
Eric laughed. “I would, huh? Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
As her mind became consumed with lust, she thought to herself, ‘You wouldn’t have a choice. I’ll turn you into a horny slut that wants my mouth all over your new body.”
Her hand drifted down his abs, and came to his dick, which was semi hard and slippery with their combined juices. “I’d shrink this until it became a slit. A perfect little pussy that I could lick as much as I wanted, making you scream for more.”
“Is that all?” Eric asked, knowing his wife was almost to the brink of climax by the way she was breathing and moving her hips in time with his fingers.
“I’d make you just a little shorter than me!” she cried out. “And I’d make you-Oh fuck! I’d make you my perverted little sex slave! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Ooh!” The powerful orgasm made her shake from head to toe.
When she was finally able to relax, Eric pulled her close and they cuddled. He whispered gently in her ear, “Are you sure you can’t do that spell on me now?”
She laughed softly. “I think I need to get the dishes put away and dinner started,” she said.
Eric said nothing for a moment, then shrugged and said a playful, “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet. With a playful swat on her butt he said, “Get to work.”
Her mouth fell open in mock surprise, but then she giggled, and went off to do the housework.
The next few days were a blur, because everytime she had a chance, Calyope was thinking about that spell. Putting eyes on it. Sounding it out. Imagining the ideal feminine shape her husband would become, and the personality she would make him have. She was becoming obsessed, and could think of little else while she did her daily chores. It certainly made them easier.
She thought a tiny bit about maybe altering Eric’s mind to not just be a sex slave, but also be willing to do some of the mundane chores that she did every day. She didn’t mind doing them for her husband. It was part of how she showed her love and devotion to him. But she did wish he’d help out around the house a little more. The vast majority of her thoughts though, were imagining the raven haired beauty he would become, and then making that goddess put her pretty mouth between her legs.
Despite her perverted obsession, it was actually her husband that mentioned using the spell again. She’d been lost in another fantasy while the dishes magically washed, dried, and put away themselves, when her husband pressed himself against her from behind.
“How’s that rune spell coming along, Calyope? Are you ready to turn me into a sexy woman yet?”
Calyope felt his rod twitch against her ass. She instinctively pushed back, wanting to feel it slide between her cheeks. Since she was only wearing an apron, she got her wish. The delightful sensation of that hard cock made her lose her magical concentration though, and a dish crashed to the floor. “Oh shoot,” she pouted, as her husband withdrew behind her. She made a motion with her finger and the dish repaired itself and sailed into the cupboard.
“Sorry,” about that,” she heard her thoughtful husband say.
“She spun around and said, “I think I’m ready.” Goodness knows she needed to be. She needed to alleviate the sexual tension that seemed to be building exponentially inside of her as she thought about turning her husband into a woman. It had felt all consuming these last few days. “I’ve been studying it every time I get a free moment, and should have all the words memorized, so I think we should, um…” she trailed off as she realized how eager she sounded.
Eric laughed. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about it a lot. Every time I look at you while you’re doing your chores, or we’re eating, or, well, after we’re done fucking, you get that faraway look in your eye that makes me think you’re thinking about transforming me into your lesbian lover.”
“Busted,” she giggled, as she looked her husband up and down, undressing him with her eyes and fantasizing about the new curves he’d soon have.
“So where do you want to do this?” he asked curiously. The way his wife was looking at him made him feel like a slab of meat being dangled in front of a hungry lion. He didn’t mind in the least.
“How about upstairs in the bedroom,” Calyope suggested excitedly. “And I’ll need to make contact with you for the spell, so why don’t you just-”
“Get naked,” Eric finished with a wide grin.
Calyope winked at him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, babe,” he said, winking back.
They raced upstairs. As soon as Eric walked in, he pulled off his shirt. Calyope found herself staring at his toned body, and for a moment, thought about scrapping the spell and just taking his male self right then and there.
He saw her gawking as he pulled off his pants and underwear. She was now staring right at his rigid cock that was pointing straight at her. He snapped his fingers and said, “My eyes are up here, love. I know you love this cock, but let’s try to focus,” he teased, then twisted his body side to side so his dick slapped against his torso.
Calyope felt like she was being hypnotized by the motion of that big beautiful cock. Drool had formed in her mouth. Drool that she could use to slobber all over his impressive man meat with her tongue. She shook her head and closed her eyes. She really did need to focus! She had her husband’s permission, and knew the spell pretty well. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, because who knew, tomorrow he might change his mind.
She stepped directly in front of him, and put the fingertips of her right hand onto his stomach. She could feel the tight muscles there. His body was lean and calloused and tough. Everything she wanted in her man. She almost pushed him down onto the bed so she could fuck him, but with an extra bit of willpower, she began a slow and steady chant. As she did, she put every thought into the woman she wanted him to become.
She pictured a slightly shorter physique than herself. One with shoulder length jet black hair, pouty lips, and a round face. This woman would have large, bouncy breasts, almost but not quite as big as her own. Her body would be a vision of seductive curves and soft skin. She would have a neatly trimmed bush, and an always wet and sensitive pussy.
Calyope’s thoughts turned from the physical to the mental. She knew this would reshape her husband’s mind, but she did not hesitate as she thought how this transformed woman would always desire to have sex with Calyope. She would find ways to seduce Calyope, and be willing to beg for the chance to get between her legs. And housework. She’d want to help with chores and making meals. But most importantly, she’d be a kinky slut, coming up with new and exciting ways to get each other off!
That last thought turned her on so much it threatened to distract her, and she stumbled over a few of the words. She looked down at her fingertips and was disheartened to see no rune had formed. She wondered if her carelessness had ruined her first attempt.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” Eric assured her, and put his hand atop hers encouragingly as she started saying the spell again.
Calyope put all her concentration into it this time. She tuned everything else out as she thought only about the words and the manifestation of her fantasy woman.
Slowly but surely, she felt the spark of magic against Eric’s skin. She looked down, and saw a glowing line etched itself from the top of her middle finger, to the other places her fingertips touched. She became excited as a perfect circle began to form, and inside that circle, a combined symbol of an arrow and a cross that represented the masculine and feminine. As Calyope finished the chant, it glowed brightly, and then faded. But the rune remained. A permanent magical brand on her husband’s stomach.
Eric’s brow furrowed, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. He looked down at himself, and asked with obvious disappointment, “Shouldn’t I be a girl now?”
“Not yet,” Calyope said, and licked her lips. “Now that the rune’s there, I should be able to turn you into a girl whenever I want. No lengthy spell, just a touch, and a one word command.”
“Well go ahead then, babe,” Eric said in his deep voice as he struck out his chest and did a superhero pose. “Let me help you make your bisexual dreams come true.”
Calyope bounced up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. Then she put her hand on the rune, and said, “Transform.”
The rune did not glow, but just remained a faint mark on his skin. “I don’t know what’s wrong? That should have worked!” she said. “Let me consult the-”
But before she could run and get the spell book, Eric took her hand again, and placed it over hers on his stomach. “Maybe I have to help show the magic that I’m willing? I am. I am willing,” he said, looking down at his stomach. “Let’s try again, at the same time. Ready?”
Calyope nodded and said, “Okay. On the count of three, let’s both of us say it. One, two, three…”
Simultaneously, husband and wife both said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed bright on Eric’s stomach.
“I think something’s happening!” Eric said excitedly as his skin began to ripple up and down his body.
“It sure is,” Calyope exclaimed. She stepped back from her husband, and watched with wide eyed fascination as he shrank from his 6 foot 2 self, to about 5 foot 9. This was apparent to Calyope, because it was still an inch taller than her own self. That wasn’t quite to her specifications, but it could be amended at a later time.
Eric’s brown hair darkened until it was jet black, then ran down to his shoulders like a waterfall cascading down from his head. His lips became fuller, his face rounder and softer. His broad chest shifted, narrowing first and becoming slimmer. Then his right pectoral began to protrude. It blossomed into a round jiggly boob.
This caused Eric to chuckle as he reached his hand up to it and gave it a squeeze. He looked at his wife, and saw how much she was enjoying the show. He blew her a kiss, right before a left boob popped out before Calyope’s eyes.
He suddenly shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his crotch. Calyope followed his gaze, and saw his erect penis shrink rapidly into his body, leaving only a slit with a tuft of dark curly hair barely covering it.
“Oh wow, that transformation process feels good!” Eric gasped in a high pitched voice as his smaller hand dipped down to his new pussy.
Calyope was glad that her husband wasn’t mourning the loss of his favorite member. She assumed this was part of the spell, helping him embrace the changes by spiking his lust. She remembered that soon he should be up for anything if the spell did its job.
“Oh!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. “Something else is getting bigger!” He gave a slow turn so his wife could see his hips widen, and his ass expand into a round plump butt that had Calyope drooling. He gave it a shake, and giggled as it clapped. “Certainly a lot more exciting than my flat ass, wouldn’t you say, babe?”
Calyope took a step towards him, as if entranced by the wobble of his new sexy butt.
Eric giggled again and said, “I take it you like what you see?”
“I really do,” Calyope said sincerely as Eric finished a slow spin. She saw that the rune on his stomach had faded into a faint, black outline, a reminder that she’d be able to turn him back to her masculine husband whenever she wanted. But right now, she wanted, no, NEEDED to touch every inch of his feminine skin with her fingertips. And then her tongue.
“This spell is incredible,” she whispered as she put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You look nothing like your original self, Eric! I wouldn’t even know you were my husband if I hadn’t seen you transform before my very eyes.”
When Eric responded, his new high girly voice was silky and seductive. “As long as I look like this, Cal, why don’t you call me Erica.”
“Yeah,” Calyope said, bringing her face closer and closer to her husband’s pouty lips. “Erica.”
And then they were kissing. It was not the kissing of two people that have never kissed each other before. Nor the kind that expresses comfortable familiarity. No. This was rather like the kind where two people have been desperate for each other in the worst way and are finally allowed to express their pent up feelings physically.
Hands groped greedily. Lips migrated from lips to necks to shoulders to breasts. They each attacked each other’s bodies like this would be their only opportunity. What made Calyope so infinitely happy, other than Erica’s sweet moans, was that it wouldn’t be. She could live out her lesbian fantasy a million times over, all because of how wonderfully willing her husband was.
“You want to lick this pink pussy of mine, right?” Erica suddenly asked, interrupting Calyope’s thoughts.
“I do!” she squealed. Erica smiled wantonly and laid back on the bed. The raven haired beauty parted her legs, and moved her fingers in a downward V to spread her lips open. Calyope saw her folds were already glistening with desire. Calyope got on her knees and bent low. She began by kissing up Erica’s inner thigh, letting the passion between them escalate. Then her lips were kissing a pussy that had been molded and shaped just for her. She extended her tongue, and tasted a divine salty tartness that was instantly addictive.
Calyope giggled into her lover as Erica began to moan and squirm. She popped her head up and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great!” Erica replied, and then put her hand on top of Calyope’s head. “But don’t stop!”
Calyope squealed happily as her mouth was shoved back into Erica’s dripping cunt.
For the first time that Calyope could remember, her husband came before she did. Turns out all he needed for that to happen, was a clit. Even after Erica squirted in her face, Calyope found she didn’t want to stop licking. “You taste so good baby! And I gotta say, I think I prefer my face coated with your pussy juice than your cum.”
Erica giggled. “Thank you? I think? You really do have an amazing tongue by the way.”
“Do you wanna try yours out?” Calyope asked as she dropped next to her.
Erica pushed herself up and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Caloype was keenly aware of the lack of stubble as Erica’s face brushed against her inner thighs. There was only soft, smooth skin. And then a tongue. It was smaller than Eric’s, but there was a sensuality about it that made Calyope arch her back as it began to lick up and down her folds. “You’re my girlfriend!” she moaned.
A soft laugh reverberated between Calyope’s legs, and then her perfect woman looked up and said, “No, I’m your wife.”
A thrill of delight went through Calyope’s whole body, and Erica didn’t stop until she’d given Calyope everything she’d been hoping for.
The session lasted a very long time, and by the end, they were a sweaty, happy mess. The last thing Calyope thought before she drifted off to sleep was how different it was with a woman. It wasn’t a sprint, but a marathon.
The next several days whizzed by for Calyope. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of sex, and she loved it. The second Eric got home Calyope would turn him into Erica, and they’d make each other climax several times, and then a very tired Calyope would finish her chores while Erica basked in the afterglow. After dinner, Erica would change back to Eric, and fill Calyope’s pussy with strong, powerful thrusts. It was a very good routine, and it might have lasted a good deal longer, had Calyope not made an important discovery.
It happened a month after Erica had been introduced into their lives. Calyope had decided to get up early and shower with her ‘wife.’ She’d showered with Eric many times, but never in the morning before he left for work, because she hated getting up early. She LOVED sleep. She often felt like she could sleep the whole day away. In so many ways, her day really didn’t begin until her husband got back home. That was why she always felt behind on chores, because she so often didn’t start them until Eric got back home.
But she’d been thinking about showering with Erica. She wanted to soap up those beautiful curves. To let her fingers glide over those most intimate of areas while making them smell sweet and fragrant. She’d climaxed last night while thinking about it, while her husband had been inside of her. It was something naughty she often liked to do. To think about the ‘other lover’ that wasn’t there with her while she came.
The opportunity finally arrived when Eric’s alarm actually woke up her that one morning. He was still Erica. Calyope realized she’d forgotten to change Erica back to Eric last night, but Calyope did love the sight of her wife sitting up in bed and stretching. It was a fantastic view. She wanted to pull the busty vixen back down into the bed and begin kissing and licking her all over that curvy figure. But she knew time was of the essence. “I want to shower with you,” she said, placing a hand lovingly on the small of Erica’s back.
Erica yelped at Calyope’s voice, and looked back at her in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to see her in their bed. “Oh, shit. Uh, sorry Cal..yope. I totally forgot to, um…”
“It’s okay, I’m up!” she beamed. “I’ll go heat up the water.” She looked back at Erica from the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna transform you back yet until AFTER the shower,” she giggled.
Erica watched Calyope’s cute butt all the way down the hall to their bathroom. She bit her lower lip and said, “Well, I guess a quick shower won’t hurt.”
She heard the sound of water running. And then a scream.
Erica leapt off the bed and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the doorframe, she cried, “What? What’s the matter? You see a mouse?”
Calyope was still facing the shower. But her head was turned towards the mirror, and her eyes were laser focused on something there. She pointed a shaky hand towards her reflection. She didn’t understand why she had one too. It was smaller, but it was there. On her left butt cheek, was a circular rune with the symbol for masculine and feminine.
“I don’t remember putting a copy of the rune on myself,” she whispered.
Erica sighed and folded her arms. “That’s cause you didn’t put it there, sweetie. I did.”
Calyope finally looked away from the mirror, and turned to face Erica. She was so confused. “But…how could you? You can’t do magic?”
Erica gave her a pitying look and said gently. “No, dear. You’re the one that can’t do magic.” WIth a sudden flick of her wrist, a toothbrush sailed into the air and Erica deftly caught it.
Calyope stared at it in disbelief, not just at the magic on display from her husband/wife, but because the toothbrush…looked like a woman’s toothbrush. She looked at the other toothbrush next to the sink. It was a man’s toothbrush. And a chill went down Calyope’s spine, as she could never remember brushing her teeth. Like, ever.
She began taking panicked, shallow breaths. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she gasped. She flicked her wrist at the other toothbrush. It did not move. Not even a little. “N-no. No I use magic all the ti-WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER EVER DOING CERTAIN THINGS LIKE BRUSHING MY TEETH?!”
Erica held up her hands soothingly and said, “Darling, relax. Let me just…let me talk to my husband, and we’ll straighten this all-”
Calyope’s hands shot down to her sides and clenched into fists as she shrieked, “Your husband?!”
Erica grimaced. “Yeah, this was…well it was his idea. And he’s…inside of you.”
This revelation stunned Calyope to her very core, which gave Erica the time she needed to step forward and hug her. Then she placed a hand on Calyope’s right buttcheek, and said, “Transform.”
_______________________________________________________
Three months ago.
“So, do you know like, transformation magic?” Calvin asked as they laid in bed after another passionate night unbridled lovemaking.
Erica giggled and hit her husband on the arm. “You sick of my body already?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just like…I’m wondering if you could transform me? I know you also like girls, and I know that you gave that up that part of you when we got married. But…what if you didn’t have to. What if you could transform me into your ‘wife’ sometimes?”
Erica squeezed her man. “And then I transform into a handsome guy with muscular pecs and come home from work and give you the business?”
“Oh…” Calvin uttered curiously. “I mean…I hadn’t thought of that, but…”
“You’d let me fuck you with a dick?” Erica said, mouth opened in a wide grin.
“No! I mean…maybe.”
“No lie, dear, that actually sounds kinda hot.”
“Wait, wait. I’m not sure I’d want to be able to remember something like that. Is there like, memory magic you could use as well?”
Erica licked her lips, then said, “I actually may know of a spell that is exactly what we’re looking for babe. Just remember, this was all your idea.”
_____________________________________________________
Present Day
The panic left Calvin’s body as he returned to his original self. The weight from his former boobs was distributed mainly to his belly. He was not the ripped male version that his wife became, but a rather ordinary looking guy. The memories began to rush in from his time as Caloyope.
“You didn’t change me back last night,” he said.
“I know, I know,” Erica said, letting him go. She stepped past him and turned off the shower. “We let this go on too long, Cal. She’s become like, a whole different person.”
That had been Cal’s decision too. To be transformed into Calyope more and more throughout the week. Erica didn’t complain, because Cal was an amazing lover as a woman, plus he didn’t mind that his wife had instilled within him a desire to take care of the house, because he felt a disconnect to it. It was helping her, helping him, and they’d been fucking like rabbits in different gender combinations. There had seemed to be no downside. Until now. Calyope had become aware of the transformation rune, and that had led to her feeling like she wasn’t a whole person. And in a way, maybe she wasn’t. She only appeared when they wanted her to. She didn’t get to remember anything beyond those few hours she was allowed to exist. Cal could remember, but not her.
“This is my fault,” Erica said. “I should have paid attention to the precautions. I can have the rune removed.”
Cal’s face fell. “No. No please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Calyope means so much to you. So much to me.”
Erica hugged her husband. She was glad he felt this way. Calyope really had become a part of their family. “Give me some time to think. Maybe…maybe there’s something we can do, but I’ll need to research some spell books.”
They held each other, and finally parted ways. Cal going to work. Erica doing the same. She worked at an apothecary, one that had many magical recipes and spellbooks, which she would dive into today, looking for an answer to the mess they’d made.
A week later, the husband and wife reconvened in the bathroom again. They were both naked as if they were about to shower, but Calvin was just watching his wife use her finger to make a large circle over the mirror. Then she took out a sharp stone and began scratching the surface, carving small symbols into it. When it was done, she placed her hand upon it, and said a lengthy spell she’d been memorizing for the last few days. The mirror glowed, and then looked like a regular mirror again, except it didn’t reflect as it once had. It still showed Erica, but as Calvin looked at it, he saw Calyope. But her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be asleep.
“Okay,” Erica said, assessing the small bathroom. “It’s time. Stand right where she was when she got transformed last time. Let’s try to make this as comfortable for her as possible.”
Calvin put his back to the shower, and Erica put her arms around him. “I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Erica put a hand on her husband’s fuzzy butt, and said, “Transform.”
A few seconds later, Calyope sucked in a huge breath. Her ‘wife’s’ arms were still around as they had been when she felt herself blank out. She fought the urge to panic. “Let me go,” she said firmly.
Erica did, but then quickly said, “Calyope, we both owe you an apology.”
“Was any of it real?!” she demanded.
Erica hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was very real, Calyope. But what we did to you wasn’t right. But we think we’ve-”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we?’” Calyope spat. She was so mad, but not just at Erica. She was also mad at herself, because even now the sight of Erica was turning her on. She wanted to kiss her soft lips, and get her mouth between her legs and taste her. She now assumed that this desire was also a part of that rune.
Erica noted the woman’s mixed emotions, but instead of commenting on them, she pointed to the mirror and said quietly, “Calyope, meet your other half, Calvin.”
Calyope looked from Erica to the mirror, expecting to see her and Erica reflected in its surface. But she was mistaken. There was Erica, yes, but instead of Calyope, there was a man where she should be. A man that, in certain aspects, vaguely resembled Calyope herself. Same sandy brown hair color. Same chin. Same eyes.
“Nice to meet you officially,” the reflection of Cal suddenly said, which caused Calyope to jump. The man put his palms out in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, sorry, don’t be scared. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you, cause, well, I am you. Erica magicked up this mirror especially for us, so we could talk. It’s very important that you know, Calyope, that you’ve made Erica so happy these last few months.”
“It’s true,” Erica said.
Calyope frowned and looked towards Erica. “I haven’t known you for months,” she countered. “I’ve only known Eric. You know, the person I thought was my husband.”
“Would having him here with you make you more comfortable?” Erica interjected.
Calyope met the woman’s eyes, and nodded sadly. “Yeah. It’d help.” Eric had been her rock. The person she’d do absolutely anything for. She knew this was also probably part of the spell, but just the thought of seeing him calmed her a little.
Erica put a hand to her own overlaid rune and said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed, and Erica’s soft supple form grew taller and became muscular. Her smooth belly gained those chiseled abs that made Calyope go weak in the knees. And suddenly there was his handsome face, looking at her in concern. She threw herself into his strong arms, and he held her tight and patted her head.
“There, there, it’s okay, dear,” he said.
For a few precious seconds, Calyope allowed herself to melt into him. “Do you remember being her?” she finally asked her husband.
He gave her a pitying look. “Um, yes, but…”
“That’s not fair that you get to!” she protested. Then she turned on her male counterpart in the mirror. “Do you remember being me?”
“Also yes,” Calvin admitted. “But for different reasons.”
Calyope looked up into her husband’s dark eyes. She found she wanted to kiss him. To grind against his body until he grew hard, picked her up, and fucked her against the bathroom wall. She tried to keep focused. “What’s he talking about? Why do you both get to remember?”
“Well,” Eric confessed. “I’m still…Erica. Even when I’m Eric, I’m still me. I used the overlaid rune to transform from female to male, but otherwise there were no changes.”
Calyope’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But…you act like a guy when you look like this.” She put a hand on his chest. Being this close to him was having quite the effect on her. If Erica’s body had made her horny, Eric’s body was having even more of an impact.
She looked at her male counterpart while her hand kept descending down to those abs she loved so much. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The magic of the rune allows me to remember everything you thought and did when I transform back,” Cal explained. “It doesn’t feel quite like I was there, but it’s certainly close enough that I feel that you’re a huge part of me.”
Calyope couldn’t stop her hand from going lower as she said, “But that’s not fair. I should be able to feel the same way. I should get to remember being married to Erica, and living your life, and all of it.”
“You’re right,” Cal said. “You’re absolutely right. And the reason Erica and I brought you back, was to tell you that she’s got a way to…” Eric gasped as Calyope’s hand touched the tip of his penis, and Cal noticed. “Um…do I need to give you guys a second?”
Calyope licked her lips as she looked down at Eric’s throbbing member. Then she looked at Cal in the mirror. “Do you remember every time I’ve gone down on my husband?” she asked coolly.
“I…do…” Cal said tentatively. “But, like I said, it’s like remembering something that happened to somebody else. And I certainly don’t dwell on it.”
“Well you’re about to see it,” Calyope said as she began sinking to her knees.
Cal looked at his wife’s Eric persona. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the body that his wife had. He looked at her and said, “Look, I’m glad this is working out, but could you take this to the other room.”
Eric shook his head and as he put a hand on top of Calyope’s. “No honey. It’s so much hotter if you’re here to watch your pretty little mouth suck my dick. You can take it so deep too!”
“Yeah, I can absolutely do without the play by play.” But he did watch as Calyope took the cock in her mouth with no hesitation. She sucked it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she began to moan and rub her clit as she did so. “Fuck, that IS hot,” he finally admitted.
“I knew you’d like to watch you little perv,” Eric groaned. “But I know my precious Calyope. THIS is what she really wants.” With that he lifted her up in his strong arms, pinned her to the wall, and impaled her pussy with his thick cock.
“Yes!” Calyope screamed. “I love you so much, Eric!”
“I love you too, Calyope!”
A moment later, Cal said, “We both do.”
Calyope came hard a minute later. When she did, she knew that her sensitive pussy was a gift from Erica. She bucked her hips and clawed at Eric’s back until he came inside her. When he put her down, she asked, “So…what now?”
Eric kissed her and said, “Now we give you what Calvin has always had. The ability to remember. You’ll remember being him the way he remembers being you.”
“What about some of the other things? Will those change too?”
“What other things?” Calvin asked.
“I’m guessing she means the desire to cook and clean for me.”
“Yeah!” Calyope pouted.
“Ooh, yeah, that was my idea,” Cal admitted.
“Or the fact that just the sight of either of your forms makes me go into heat,” Calyope added.
“Uh, I didn’t actually do that one,” Eric laughed.
“I mean, she is hot as a guy or a girl,” Cal agreed.
“Oh, you want some of this too?” Eric winked, stroking his slippery cock.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass, but thanks. I already have plenty of memories of tasting it and having that enormous thing shoved in me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Calyope suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll get to remember fucking you with a dick?!”
Eric hugged her. “Yes, you will, sweetie. But as for the other stuff…well, I’m afraid to redo the rune to make you not want to cook and clean and think you have magic, that won’t go away. Not unless I redid the rune, which…would make the version that is you, go away.”
“Well I don’t want that!” she said quickly. “And I don’t mind too much cooking and cleaning. It is how I’ve always shown you I love you.”
“Again, my idea,” Calvin said.
“Shut it, husband,” Eric snapped playfully.
“Whose idea was it to let me see the book with the overlaid rune?” Calyope asked curiously.
“Oh, that was mine!” Eric answered proudly. “After you brought up wanting to be with a woman, I knew there was a part of you that missed, well, the real me. And that was confirmed when you described me. I thought it would be fun-”
Cal coughed in the mirror.
“Sorry, WE thought it would be fun if we played this out, and…yeah, it was really hot, but we’re both sorry if we ever hurt-”
“Shh,” Calyope whispered, as she put a finger on her husband’s lips. “I’m still really horny. So, I think I’d be fine if…”
“I changed back into your ‘wife’?’” Eric suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope bit her lip. “Yes please.”
Eric swooped up his bride and looked at Cal’s reflection. “You’re gonna enjoy remembering all the kinky lesbian shit we’re about to do, dear.”
Calvin laughed and waved at them. “I know I will. Have fun you two.”
Calyope squealed as Eric ran from the bathroom and threw her onto their bed. He was Erica a moment later, and she dove between Calyope’s legs and began lapping up the cum that had just been deposited by her male self. The two were insatiable all day, and Eric made many guest appearances.
Calvin and Calyope settled into new routines where they shared their time with Erica/Eric, but also loved remembering how happy the other made their spouse.
There are certainly more hijinks to their story, like the one where Calyope got a temporary body from a gollum that Erica created. But that is another story altogether.
The end.
Author's Note
Sorry for my long absence. I hope you enjoyed this new story. The inspiration for it came from the show Severance, and I enjoyed applying the concept of playing it out with a twist with this happily married couple. If you'd like to see more of their story, let me know. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Next up though will be more Working Remotely.
Thank you to all my supporters. After I add the next chapter of Working Remotely, you'll be the ones to decide what I work on next.
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A strange erotic story about a teenage boy named Nick and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena who asked to be his mom for the role.
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
This story tells you about a couple, a teenager named Liam and his redheaded girlfriend named Chloe who can't stop regenerating herself after sex.
Liam lay on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation as he watched Chloe, his gorgeous redheaded girlfriend, saunter towards him. Her naked body was a vision of perfection, her E-cup tits bouncing gently with each step. She giggled, seeing the hunger in his eyes.
"Well, looks like someone's eager," Chloe teased, her voice a sweet melody that sent shivers down Liam's spine.
Liam grinned, his cock already hard and ready. "Always for you, Chloe. I've been waiting for you."
Chloe climbed onto the bed, her body straddling his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft, gentle caress that quickly deepened into a passionate, hungry dance. Liam's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs.
Chloe moaned softly, her body pressing against his as she felt his hard cock against her stomach. She reached down, her hand wrapping around his length as she guided him to her entrance. With a soft sigh, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely.
Liam groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet her as they began to move together. Chloe's body was a perfect fit for his, her pussy wet and tight as it clenched around him. He reached up, his hands cupping her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
Chloe threw her head back, her red hair cascading down her back as she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that."
Liam thrust harder, his body moving in a fast, urgent rhythm. Chloe met each thrust, her body bouncing against his as their moans filled the room. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like music to their ears, a symphony of their love and passion.
Liam could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge. Chloe seemed to sense it too, her body clenching around him as she moaned louder.
"Cum with me, Liam," she gasped, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
With a final thrust, Liam cried out, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot cum filling Chloe completely. Chloe screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm.
But as their bodies shook with the intensity of their climax, something strange began to happen. Chloe's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
Suddenly, Chloe screamed, her body convulsing with a different kind of force. Liam watched in shock as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her hair darkening and lengthening, her face morphing into that of a stranger.
The glow faded, and in place of Chloe was a middle-aged British woman with massive O-cup tits and a body that was both familiar and alien. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked around in confusion.
"Blimey, what was that?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement. She looked down at Liam, her eyes widening in surprise. "Liam! You silly boy, what are you doing down there? I didn't know you were here. Silly me."
Liam stared up at her, his mouth open in shock. "Chloe? Wha... what happened to you?"
The woman, who was once Chloe, giggled, her large breasts bouncing with the movement. "Chloe? Who's Chloe? It's me, Beatrice, you silly boy. Have you been playing games with me again?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
"Beatrice?" he said, his voice hesitant. "You... you don't remember?"
Beatrice giggled again, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Remember what, silly? I'm your girlfriend, Beatrice. Been with you for donkey's years. Now come on, out you get. A lady needs her space after such a... Such whatever that was."
Liam pulled out of her, his cock still hard, still glistening with their combined juices. Beatrice looked down at it, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Well, would you look at that," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "Aren't you an eager little beaver?"
Liam grinned, his heart pounding with a mix of lust and excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that something incredible and impossible had just happened. But he also knew that he wanted her, this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe.
He leaned up, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Beatrice gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Beatrice looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about her boyfriend. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Liam... baby... slow down,... we... we can't..." she moaned, even as her body pressed against his. "I've still not quite sure what's going on."
Liam didn't listen. He just pulled her close, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down to her pussy.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Mmm... yes, Liam. Yes, touch me. Touch me there."
Liam slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling her clit as he began to fuck her with his hand. Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building again, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
"Cum with me, Beatrice," he gasped, his body shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
Beatrice screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their breaths coming in quick gasps, Liam knew that something incredible had happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. But he also knew that he couldn't deny the love and passion he felt for this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe. And he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his, forever.
As they laid there, their bodies entwined and their hearts pounding with a mix of love and lust, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And he was more than ready for it. Whatever it may bring.
Liam lay on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation as he watched Chloe, his gorgeous redheaded girlfriend, saunter towards him. Her naked body was a vision of perfection, her E-cup tits bouncing gently with each step. She giggled, seeing the hunger in his eyes.
"Well, looks like someone's eager," Chloe teased, her voice a sweet melody that sent shivers down Liam's spine.
Liam grinned, his cock already hard and ready. "Always for you, Chloe. I've been waiting for you."
Chloe climbed onto the bed, her body straddling his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft, gentle caress that quickly deepened into a passionate, hungry dance. Liam's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs.
Chloe moaned softly, her body pressing against his as she felt his hard cock against her stomach. She reached down, her hand wrapping around his length as she guided him to her entrance. With a soft sigh, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely.
Liam groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet her as they began to move together. Chloe's body was a perfect fit for his, her pussy wet and tight as it clenched around him. He reached up, his hands cupping her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
Chloe threw her head back, her red hair cascading down her back as she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that."
Liam thrust harder, his body moving in a fast, urgent rhythm. Chloe met each thrust, her body bouncing against his as their moans filled the room. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like music to their ears, a symphony of their love and passion.
Liam could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge. Chloe seemed to sense it too, her body clenching around him as she moaned louder.
"Cum with me, Liam," she gasped, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
With a final thrust, Liam cried out, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot cum filling Chloe completely. Chloe screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm.
But as their bodies shook with the intensity of their climax, something strange began to happen. Chloe's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
Suddenly, Chloe screamed, her body convulsing with a different kind of force. Liam watched in shock as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her hair darkening and lengthening, her face morphing into that of a stranger.
The glow faded, and in place of Chloe was a middle-aged British woman with massive O-cup tits and a body that was both familiar and alien. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked around in confusion.
"Blimey, what was that?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement. She looked down at Liam, her eyes widening in surprise. "Liam! You silly boy, what are you doing down there? I didn't know you were here. Silly me."
Liam stared up at her, his mouth open in shock. "Chloe? Wha... what happened to you?"
The woman, who was once Chloe, giggled, her large breasts bouncing with the movement. "Chloe? Who's Chloe? It's me, Beatrice, you silly boy. Have you been playing games with me again?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
"Beatrice?" he said, his voice hesitant. "You... you don't remember?"
Beatrice giggled again, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Remember what, silly? I'm your girlfriend, Beatrice. Been with you for donkey's years. Now come on, out you get. A lady needs her space after such a... Such whatever that was."
Liam pulled out of her, his cock still hard, still glistening with their combined juices. Beatrice looked down at it, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Well, would you look at that," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "Aren't you an eager little beaver?"
Liam grinned, his heart pounding with a mix of lust and excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that something incredible and impossible had just happened. But he also knew that he wanted her, this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe.
He leaned up, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Beatrice gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Beatrice looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about her boyfriend. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Liam... baby... slow down,... we... we can't..." she moaned, even as her body pressed against his. "I've still not quite sure what's going on."
Liam didn't listen. He just pulled her close, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down to her pussy.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Mmm... yes, Liam. Yes, touch me. Touch me there."
Liam slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling her clit as he began to fuck her with his hand. Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building again, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
"Cum with me, Beatrice," he gasped, his body shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
Beatrice screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their breaths coming in quick gasps, Liam knew that something incredible had happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. But he also knew that he couldn't deny the love and passion he felt for this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe. And he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his, forever.
As they laid there, their bodies entwined and their hearts pounding with a mix of love and lust, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And he was more than ready for it. Whatever it may bring.
Plot
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
This is a rewrite & expansion of The Guillotine by Smiles on Writing.com -- https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1575512-The-Guillotine
It's set in the same world and will start of similarly, but will quickly expand out in different directions without directly copying the original.
____
A family member discovers a magical guillotine at a magic shop called Franz Joseph Illusions. It has the ability to cut off body parts and let them be reattached to anyone and anywhere!
Rules:
- When a body part is cut off, the person it is removed from can still feel and move it until it is attached to somebody else.
- When it is attached to somebody else, the original owner loses all sensation in it, and the new person gains the ability to move and feel it as if it is their own.
- If it is cut off from the second person, they keep control of the body part until it is again attached to another person.
- If a body part is attached to something inanimate (like a wall or a table), it just goes completely numb.
The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into Franz Joseph Illusions, the musty scent of aged wood and old velvet filling your nose. The shop was dimly lit, dust motes swirling in the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the grimy front windows. Behind the counter sat an ancient man with wiry white hair and thick spectacles that magnified his watery blue eyes. He barely glanced up from his newspaper as you entered.
Your boots scuffed against the worn wooden floorboards as you wandered between displays of magic props. A gleaming chrome box for sawing women in half stood beside a levitation rig with silk scarves still draped over its frame. But your attention kept drifting to the back corner where a massive guillotine loomed, its polished blade catching the light in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.
Running your fingers along the smooth oak frame, you examined the intricate carvings of fleur-de-lis along the sides. The metal components gleamed with fresh oil, the blade's edge so sharp you could see your distorted reflection in it. Crouching down, you checked beneath the lunette - the semicircular brace where a victim's neck would rest - but found no manufacturer's marks or price tags.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" The old man's voice made you jump. He'd appeared silently beside you, his gnarled hands stroking the guillotine's frame with disturbing affection. "Built in 1793 for the Comte de Rougemont. He commissioned it to save his own neck, if you'll pardon the expression."
You frowned. "How does a guillotine save someone?"
The old man's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Magic, my boy. The oldest kind." He rapped his knuckles against the wooden frame. "This one's special. The blade never quite... connects. Makes for quite the party trick."
Your fingers itched to try it. "How much?"
"To buy? More than you've got in that wallet." He chuckled at your crestfallen expression. "But I'll lend it to you for a week. Show your friends. Maybe slice some fruit. Just remember to mention Franz Joseph's when they scream."
Within the hour, you'd carefully loaded the massive contraption into your pickup, the old man fussing over the padding like a mother with a newborn. The drive home was tense, every bump making you glance nervously at the rearview mirror to check the guillotine hadn't shifted.
Back in your garage, you wrestled the heavy device into position, the scent of oil and aged wood filling the space. The blade hung ominously above the empty lunette, the release mechanism's rope coiled like a sleeping serpent. Excited to test it, you hurried inside to grab a watermelon from the fridge.
The cool night air hit your face as you returned, the watermelon heavy in your arms. But as you stepped into the garage, you froze. Someone was already there, their silhouette framed against the guillotine's massive outline....
It's set in the same world and will start of similarly, but will quickly expand out in different directions without directly copying the original.
____
A family member discovers a magical guillotine at a magic shop called Franz Joseph Illusions. It has the ability to cut off body parts and let them be reattached to anyone and anywhere!
Rules:
- When a body part is cut off, the person it is removed from can still feel and move it until it is attached to somebody else.
- When it is attached to somebody else, the original owner loses all sensation in it, and the new person gains the ability to move and feel it as if it is their own.
- If it is cut off from the second person, they keep control of the body part until it is again attached to another person.
- If a body part is attached to something inanimate (like a wall or a table), it just goes completely numb.
The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into Franz Joseph Illusions, the musty scent of aged wood and old velvet filling your nose. The shop was dimly lit, dust motes swirling in the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the grimy front windows. Behind the counter sat an ancient man with wiry white hair and thick spectacles that magnified his watery blue eyes. He barely glanced up from his newspaper as you entered.
Your boots scuffed against the worn wooden floorboards as you wandered between displays of magic props. A gleaming chrome box for sawing women in half stood beside a levitation rig with silk scarves still draped over its frame. But your attention kept drifting to the back corner where a massive guillotine loomed, its polished blade catching the light in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.
Running your fingers along the smooth oak frame, you examined the intricate carvings of fleur-de-lis along the sides. The metal components gleamed with fresh oil, the blade's edge so sharp you could see your distorted reflection in it. Crouching down, you checked beneath the lunette - the semicircular brace where a victim's neck would rest - but found no manufacturer's marks or price tags.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" The old man's voice made you jump. He'd appeared silently beside you, his gnarled hands stroking the guillotine's frame with disturbing affection. "Built in 1793 for the Comte de Rougemont. He commissioned it to save his own neck, if you'll pardon the expression."
You frowned. "How does a guillotine save someone?"
The old man's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Magic, my boy. The oldest kind." He rapped his knuckles against the wooden frame. "This one's special. The blade never quite... connects. Makes for quite the party trick."
Your fingers itched to try it. "How much?"
"To buy? More than you've got in that wallet." He chuckled at your crestfallen expression. "But I'll lend it to you for a week. Show your friends. Maybe slice some fruit. Just remember to mention Franz Joseph's when they scream."
Within the hour, you'd carefully loaded the massive contraption into your pickup, the old man fussing over the padding like a mother with a newborn. The drive home was tense, every bump making you glance nervously at the rearview mirror to check the guillotine hadn't shifted.
Back in your garage, you wrestled the heavy device into position, the scent of oil and aged wood filling the space. The blade hung ominously above the empty lunette, the release mechanism's rope coiled like a sleeping serpent. Excited to test it, you hurried inside to grab a watermelon from the fridge.
The cool night air hit your face as you returned, the watermelon heavy in your arms. But as you stepped into the garage, you froze. Someone was already there, their silhouette framed against the guillotine's massive outline....
Elle and Sarah discover a magic notebook which makes everything written in it come true! This is a story designed to be an entry point for playing around with the story generation AI.
Elle wandered through her neighborhood, enjoying a sunny Saturday morning that turned the streets into a sprawling outdoor market of garage sales. She stood out with her long, light brown hair tied back in a casual ponytail, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans that made her feel at ease. Her keen green eyes scanned the tables and boxes filled with odds and ends, always on the lookout for something special.As she explored, Elle's gaze landed on a small, out-of-place leather-bound notebook nestled among a pile of old books and toys. It seemed ancient, its leather cover worn but inviting, with edges that shimmered like gold. Even from a distance, Elle felt an odd pull towards it, a sense of mystery wrapping around her heart.The seller, a short woman with a remarkably masculine presence, seemed completely out of place. She was wearing an oversized football jersey that hung awkwardly on her frame, adding to the peculiarity of her appearance. Her features were soft and her build small -- her height barely reached Elle's shoulder. There was something undeniably odd about her, as if her body didn't quite match the energy she projected. She was scowling when Elle walked up to the table."How much for the notebook?" Elle asked, her curiosity piqued as she reached out to touch the intriguing find.The woman's response came out throatily, as if she was trying to make her voice go deeper than it naturally would. "If you'll take it off my hands it's yours," she said, her scowl deepening. "But be careful, that book can bring both wonders and troubles. It's more powerful than it looks."Her warning, delivered with a seriousness that contrasted her ridiculous outfit, sent a shiver down Elle's spine. Yet, the allure of the notebook was too strong. Elle thanked her, a mix of excitement and apprehension stirring within as she took possession of the mysterious book.
Elle sat on her couch, the magic notebook resting on her lap. She was still reeling from the strange encounter at the garage sale and the cryptic warning from the seller. The book's allure was too much to resist, and she was determined to learn more about its powers.
With trembling fingers, Elle picked up the pen that had been lying on the table next to the notebook. Her mind raced with possibilities, and she decided to be cautious and start with a small experiment.
"I will become one foot shorter," she wrote, her heart pounding with anticipation. She watched as the words slowly appeared on the page, almost as if they were alive. As she finished the sentence, she felt a strange sensation wash over her, a tingle that started at the base of her spine and traveled upwards.
"Did it work?" she asked herself, nervously looking down at her body. To her surprise, she was indeed one foot shorter than her usual height. Her eyes widened in shock, and she looked around the room, trying to grasp the implications of this newfound power.
"Wow," she whispered, still in disbelief. "This is incredible!"
Elle stood up, testing her new height. She felt more agile, her movements smoother and more fluid. She spun around, her shorter stature making her feel like a tiny, nimble dancer. She couldn't help but smile as she realized the possibilities this power could bring.
"Sarah!" Elle called out, her excitement growing. "Come here, I have to show you something!"
Her roommate Sarah, a tall, athletic woman, entered the room, curious about the excitement in Elle's voice.
"What is it?" Sarah asked, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Elle's shorter stature.
Elle couldn't contain her laughter as she explained the situation. "I just used the magic notebook to make myself one foot shorter! Look at me now!"
Sarah's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement evident in her expression.
"Wow, Elle," she said, shaking her head. "You're really doing this, aren't you?"
Elle nodded, still grinning from ear to ear. "I am! And it's amazing! I feel so much lighter on my feet, and I can see things from a different perspective now."
Sarah reached out and hugged Elle, still in disbelief. "This is incredible, Elle! I can't wait to see what else you can do with this notebook!"
Elle wandered through her neighborhood, enjoying a sunny Saturday morning that turned the streets into a sprawling outdoor market of garage sales. She stood out with her long, light brown hair tied back in a casual ponytail, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans that made her feel at ease. Her keen green eyes scanned the tables and boxes filled with odds and ends, always on the lookout for something special.As she explored, Elle's gaze landed on a small, out-of-place leather-bound notebook nestled among a pile of old books and toys. It seemed ancient, its leather cover worn but inviting, with edges that shimmered like gold. Even from a distance, Elle felt an odd pull towards it, a sense of mystery wrapping around her heart.The seller, a short woman with a remarkably masculine presence, seemed completely out of place. She was wearing an oversized football jersey that hung awkwardly on her frame, adding to the peculiarity of her appearance. Her features were soft and her build small -- her height barely reached Elle's shoulder. There was something undeniably odd about her, as if her body didn't quite match the energy she projected. She was scowling when Elle walked up to the table."How much for the notebook?" Elle asked, her curiosity piqued as she reached out to touch the intriguing find.The woman's response came out throatily, as if she was trying to make her voice go deeper than it naturally would. "If you'll take it off my hands it's yours," she said, her scowl deepening. "But be careful, that book can bring both wonders and troubles. It's more powerful than it looks."Her warning, delivered with a seriousness that contrasted her ridiculous outfit, sent a shiver down Elle's spine. Yet, the allure of the notebook was too strong. Elle thanked her, a mix of excitement and apprehension stirring within as she took possession of the mysterious book.
Elle sat on her couch, the magic notebook resting on her lap. She was still reeling from the strange encounter at the garage sale and the cryptic warning from the seller. The book's allure was too much to resist, and she was determined to learn more about its powers.
With trembling fingers, Elle picked up the pen that had been lying on the table next to the notebook. Her mind raced with possibilities, and she decided to be cautious and start with a small experiment.
"I will become one foot shorter," she wrote, her heart pounding with anticipation. She watched as the words slowly appeared on the page, almost as if they were alive. As she finished the sentence, she felt a strange sensation wash over her, a tingle that started at the base of her spine and traveled upwards.
"Did it work?" she asked herself, nervously looking down at her body. To her surprise, she was indeed one foot shorter than her usual height. Her eyes widened in shock, and she looked around the room, trying to grasp the implications of this newfound power.
"Wow," she whispered, still in disbelief. "This is incredible!"
Elle stood up, testing her new height. She felt more agile, her movements smoother and more fluid. She spun around, her shorter stature making her feel like a tiny, nimble dancer. She couldn't help but smile as she realized the possibilities this power could bring.
"Sarah!" Elle called out, her excitement growing. "Come here, I have to show you something!"
Her roommate Sarah, a tall, athletic woman, entered the room, curious about the excitement in Elle's voice.
"What is it?" Sarah asked, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Elle's shorter stature.
Elle couldn't contain her laughter as she explained the situation. "I just used the magic notebook to make myself one foot shorter! Look at me now!"
Sarah's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement evident in her expression.
"Wow, Elle," she said, shaking her head. "You're really doing this, aren't you?"
Elle nodded, still grinning from ear to ear. "I am! And it's amazing! I feel so much lighter on my feet, and I can see things from a different perspective now."
Sarah reached out and hugged Elle, still in disbelief. "This is incredible, Elle! I can't wait to see what else you can do with this notebook!"
Matt stumbles upon a ring that lets him possess people.
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
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