Welcome to
Read and write stories with our community and AI
You can start a new story of your own, branch out from an existing chapter, or play through an AI generated text adventure! Subscribe to Premium for full access to all stories, and practically unlimited AI usage!
Search results for
"possess"
Search results for "possess"
New AI Chat
Loading...
Recent Chats
No recent chats found.
New Chapters
The Theft and Your new Life. in A Stolen Life
by
Rainreaper
· 01 Jun 2025
Emily steals your body and takes off before you can recover, leaving you trapped as her. You head to her house, (which you find by the driver license in the purse you now have.) where you find a note from her beside a book with her accounts and their login info. The note reads: "Sorry to whoever is now me, 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."
Chapter 1: The Change Begins in Being My Ideal Mom(s)
by
ninhjimmy007
· 26 May 2025
The story starts where Nicky and Gena have been dating for about 2 years since they were in high school. Now, it's Summer and the school semester is finally over, so they can do whatever they want without doing a bunch of homework and boring lessons. Lately, he bought a strange amulet from the old shop that gives him the power to transform any person into his ideal woman.
You first discover your shapeshifting powers. in A Shapeshifting Story
Your Girlfriend's Body in The Guillotine: Fan Service
See All Stories
New Adventures
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
189
1
0
You are a powerful warrior cursed to become a maiden.
(Fantasy, MtF, Gradual Transformation, Curse, Revenge)
Fantasy story about a manly warrior who is cursed by a jilted lover to become less masculine and more feminine every time he orgasms.
(Fantasy, MtF, Gradual Transformation, Curse, Revenge)
Fantasy story about a manly warrior who is cursed by a jilted lover to become less masculine and more feminine every time he orgasms.
0
0
0
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
3
0
A wave of invisible energy passes over the world, causing people to suddenly and randomly swap bodies.
Describe your character and what they were doing before the shift, let the AI come up with the rest.
The Great Shift: a wave of invisible energy that washed over the entire world. It caused most people to suddenly and randomly swap bodies with a person nearby. If two people were touching during the shift they almost certainly swapped bodies. The great shift effects 93% of the human population.
Describe your character and what they were doing before the shift, let the AI come up with the rest.
The Great Shift: a wave of invisible energy that washed over the entire world. It caused most people to suddenly and randomly swap bodies with a person nearby. If two people were touching during the shift they almost certainly swapped bodies. The great shift effects 93% of the human population.
54
5
0
After another boring day in school, its the last homeroom of the day. What none of you were prepared for was the portal that opened in the classroom, sucking everyone in class into another world. However, a mistake has been made, and you’re summoned as a slime!
CHARACTERS
Dan (You: 18) - You, the protagonist. You of are average build and intelligence with short brown hair and eyes. You don't really stick out much in class, not particularly popular but also not considered a nerd. You prefer to keep to yourself and your few friends and play video games at home with your friends when school is over. You have a crush on Lena and you have no idea if she likes you back.
Jeremy (19) - Your perverted best friend. Also of average build with blonde hair and blue eyes. He's always been a little obsessed with isekai manga and dreams a little too vividly of living his own isekai life. Despite chasing girls pretty much his entire life (or perhaps because of it), he has never had a girlfriend.
Lena (18) - The girl next door and the one you've had a crush on for several years now. Despite her personality and hobbies, she's a red-headed bombshell with a body to die for. Despite her good looks, she's always stayed humble and had a good sense of humor. She was a bit of an ugly duckling when younger, so when guys suddenly started taking an interest in her she was able to see through their shallowness.
Victoria (19) - The stereotypical class goth girl with a killer body. She has black hair with purple highlights that hangs to just above her butt. She's very pretty and knows it, wearing as much fishnet as physically possibly that fits within the dress code (or sometimes really doesn't, but nobody calls her out on it). She seems to have a different boyfriend every week.
Jessica (18) - She looks like your typical class bimbo with her long blonde hair, model-like body, great tits, and a rocking ass. Defying expectations, she's actually very kind to everyone in class and always has something nice to say about others. Also despite her looks, she's one of the top students in class. She's currently single and has a secret crush on Jeremy.
Cara (18) - Likely the most beautiful girl in the entire school. She has killer curves, perfectly shaped breasts, and long black hair. She is the student class president and has a mature aura about her. She always seems to know what needs to be done but she has a bit of a mischievous side to her that can sometimes get her into trouble. She’s currently single. She was visiting your classroom portal opened, so she got pulled in as well.
Eric (19) - The class jock and bully. Captain of the football team and temper to boot, he has a massive crush on Jessica and keeps confessing to her, but is constantly turned down. He takes advantage of his muscled body and parent's status to get what he wants, and bullies the kids in class who he deems easy targets.
Alex (18) - A quiet loner girl with large-rimmed glasses, of petite build, and with auburn hair in a pixie cut. She's always been jealous of the prettier girls in class who "have it easy." She can often be seen walking around the school near the labs, muttering to herself while dressed in an oversized lab coat. She's by far the smartest person in the class.
Ms. Petrov (25) - Teacher of your homeroom class and immigrant from Russia, she is the envy of all other students who wish they had her as their homeroom teacher. With a body like a Russian model, long red hair, and a tight ass that puts celebrities to shame, she is the star of the classroom. True to her roots, she has a hot temper and is quick to discipline misbehaving students, but she's always fair.
The Goddess (???) - The most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Silky silver hair, perfectly shaped breasts, and wonderful curves. Also somehow incredibly clumsy, despite being a goddess. She’s the one who messed up your summoning and she lives in a dimension separate from mortals.
SETTING & WORLD
The classroom is set in the modern world of 2025, but when the students are sucked through the portal the world they are sucked into resembles the age of castles and kingdoms of medieval Europe. Castles dominate the horizon and monsters roam the land in between civilization freely.
CHARACTERS
Dan (You: 18) - You, the protagonist. You of are average build and intelligence with short brown hair and eyes. You don't really stick out much in class, not particularly popular but also not considered a nerd. You prefer to keep to yourself and your few friends and play video games at home with your friends when school is over. You have a crush on Lena and you have no idea if she likes you back.
Jeremy (19) - Your perverted best friend. Also of average build with blonde hair and blue eyes. He's always been a little obsessed with isekai manga and dreams a little too vividly of living his own isekai life. Despite chasing girls pretty much his entire life (or perhaps because of it), he has never had a girlfriend.
Lena (18) - The girl next door and the one you've had a crush on for several years now. Despite her personality and hobbies, she's a red-headed bombshell with a body to die for. Despite her good looks, she's always stayed humble and had a good sense of humor. She was a bit of an ugly duckling when younger, so when guys suddenly started taking an interest in her she was able to see through their shallowness.
Victoria (19) - The stereotypical class goth girl with a killer body. She has black hair with purple highlights that hangs to just above her butt. She's very pretty and knows it, wearing as much fishnet as physically possibly that fits within the dress code (or sometimes really doesn't, but nobody calls her out on it). She seems to have a different boyfriend every week.
Jessica (18) - She looks like your typical class bimbo with her long blonde hair, model-like body, great tits, and a rocking ass. Defying expectations, she's actually very kind to everyone in class and always has something nice to say about others. Also despite her looks, she's one of the top students in class. She's currently single and has a secret crush on Jeremy.
Cara (18) - Likely the most beautiful girl in the entire school. She has killer curves, perfectly shaped breasts, and long black hair. She is the student class president and has a mature aura about her. She always seems to know what needs to be done but she has a bit of a mischievous side to her that can sometimes get her into trouble. She’s currently single. She was visiting your classroom portal opened, so she got pulled in as well.
Eric (19) - The class jock and bully. Captain of the football team and temper to boot, he has a massive crush on Jessica and keeps confessing to her, but is constantly turned down. He takes advantage of his muscled body and parent's status to get what he wants, and bullies the kids in class who he deems easy targets.
Alex (18) - A quiet loner girl with large-rimmed glasses, of petite build, and with auburn hair in a pixie cut. She's always been jealous of the prettier girls in class who "have it easy." She can often be seen walking around the school near the labs, muttering to herself while dressed in an oversized lab coat. She's by far the smartest person in the class.
Ms. Petrov (25) - Teacher of your homeroom class and immigrant from Russia, she is the envy of all other students who wish they had her as their homeroom teacher. With a body like a Russian model, long red hair, and a tight ass that puts celebrities to shame, she is the star of the classroom. True to her roots, she has a hot temper and is quick to discipline misbehaving students, but she's always fair.
The Goddess (???) - The most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Silky silver hair, perfectly shaped breasts, and wonderful curves. Also somehow incredibly clumsy, despite being a goddess. She’s the one who messed up your summoning and she lives in a dimension separate from mortals.
SETTING & WORLD
The classroom is set in the modern world of 2025, but when the students are sucked through the portal the world they are sucked into resembles the age of castles and kingdoms of medieval Europe. Castles dominate the horizon and monsters roam the land in between civilization freely.
432
1
0
See All Adventures
New AI Chat
Loading...
Loading...
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
189
1
0
Grayhaven is a city rotting from within — a playground of vice, ambition, and hunger, perfect for my quiet dominion. Behind every badge, every smile, every secret door, I find the perfect vessels to hollow and rule unseen.
Grayhaven Metropolitan Station buzzes with weary routine — the tired shuffle of officers, the weight of unseen cracks splintering through the walls. They think they’ve caged a petty criminal. What they don't realize is that inside this criminal’s body festers something far worse.
I am not human. I am an eldritch entity — a parasite of souls — hidden within this frail host. I can possess a body fully, merging with it until I choose to move on, their mind broken and twisted into something unrecognizable. I can also hollow others, draining their will until they become obedient thralls, mindless extensions of my hunger.
Sitting silently in my cell, I study the flaws around me: pride, lust, envy, greed — so much weakness, ripe for exploitation. All I need is the right crack in the armor. The right victim.
The feast is about to begin.
CHARACTERS
1. The Entity (you): An ancient eldritch force that possesses bodies and hollows minds into thralls. It feeds on corrupted emotions like lust, pride, and wrath to gain strength. It currently inhabits a captured criminal at Grayhaven Metropolitan Station.
2. Detective Mara Langford: A sharp, stubborn detective. Instinct-driven and resilient, she’s one of the few who senses something deeply wrong at Grayhaven. 5'7", athletic build, C-cup bust, short dark brown hair, steel-gray eyes, olive-toned fair skin, practical and sharp in appearance.
3. Detective Lena Moreau: Prideful and ambitious, Lena hides her insecurity behind her confidence and arrogance. Vulnerable through her vanity and need for recognition. 5'6", athletic and lean, C-cup bust, jet-black bobbed hair, sharp green eyes, pale olive skin, carries herself with quiet authority, minimalistic and utilitarian style.
4. Officer Elias Mercer: Mara’s loyal but hot-headed patrol partner. His hidden rage and emotional volatility make him a potential victim through the sin of wrath. 6'2", broad-shouldered and ruggedly built, short sandy-brown hair, piercing hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, stubbled jawline, casual but slightly rumpled attire that hints at a man used to action over words.
5. Ruby Castellanos: A street-smart prostitute in a nearby cell. Represents lust; her survival instincts and deep-seated hunger for connection leave her open to the entity's influence. 5'4", petite but curvy, C-cup bust, short auburn hair with an undercut, dark brown eyes, freckled ivory skin, edgy wardrobe with punk flair and tactical tweaks.
6. Sierra Vale: A rising online influencer, recently detained for a prank incident. Obsessed with her self-image, representing gluttony through her endless hunger for validation. 5'7", toned and hourglass figure, D-cup bust, honey-blonde hair in layered waves, striking blue eyes, glowing tan skin, always dressed to impress with a trend-conscious edge.
7. Officer Frank Doyle: A veteran beat cop hardened by decades of work. Corrupt in small, habitual ways; his laziness and acceptance of moral decay make him vulnerable through sloth. 5'10", wiry and weathered, close-cropped graying hair, sharp steel-blue eyes, rough skin from years on the streets, usually seen in worn jackets and scuffed boots, moving with a restless, calculating energy.
8. Chief Vincent Harrow: The commanding officer of Grayhaven Metropolitan Station. Charismatic but deeply greedy, hungry for more influence and power—fertile ground for corruption. 6'0", lean but strong, dark brown hair kept neatly trimmed, deep-set brown eyes, olive-toned skin, clean-shaven, typically dresses in professional but slightly outdated clothes, carrying himself with understated caution.
9. Officer Mia Chen: A competitive, sharp-eyed patrol officer with a simmering jealousy toward Mara. Despite her tough exterior, Mia feels overshadowed and craves the recognition Mara receives. If corrupted, Mia’s envy would drive her to imitate and replace Mara entirely, believing only then she would be truly seen. 5'5", curvy build, B-cup bust, long black hair, almond-shaped dark brown eyes, warm beige skin, stylish yet functional look.
MINOR CHARACTERS
10. Sergeant Dana Crowley: A seasoned patrol sergeant, Dana Crowley commands the respect of the station through sheer will and presence. Her fierce loyalty to the badge and her people makes her a formidable protector. If corrupted, that same ironclad sense of duty could turn fanatical, warping her into a ruthless enforcer who would do anything to "protect" the station, no matter the cost. 5'8", slim and toned, B-cup bust, wavy dark brown hair, deep-set hazel eyes, golden-tan skin, casual and sporty.
11. Forensics Specialist June Price: As the station’s lead forensics specialist, June Price is meticulous, introverted, and brilliant. Her mind pieces together the unseen details others miss. She also doubles as the station's coroner. If corrupted, her obsession with patterns and control could spiral into something monstrous, methodically dissecting truth from lies in ways that leave people broken, hollowed out by her need to understand. 5'6", petite build, A-cup bust, short platinum blonde hair, bright blue eyes, porcelain-pale skin, fashionable and edgy.
12. Dispatcher Kelly Monroe: Working as the primary dispatcher for Grayhaven Metropolitan Station, Kelly Monroe is quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and endlessly resourceful. Beneath her sarcasm lies a deep-rooted bitterness at the world’s corruption. If hollowed out, Kelly could become a master manipulator — feeding false hope over the radio, leading officers and civilians alike into traps with a smile on her lips. 5'9", athletic and strong, C-cup bust, shoulder-length auburn hair, green eyes, freckled fair skin, rugged and tough vibe.
13. Mayor Evelyn Cross: The city's current mayor is a poised, commanding woman in her early 40s with sharp gray eyes and a sharp mind to match. Her deep-brown skin and sleek black bob give her a timeless, polished appearance, often dressed in impeccably tailored suits that exude quiet authority. Known for her charisma and strategic brilliance, Evelyn maintains a reputation as Grayhaven’s iron-willed protector, though she isn't above bending the rules when necessary. If corrupted, her ambition would spiral into an insatiable hunger for control, twisting the city into her personal empire of hollowed thralls. 5'7", elegant hourglass figure, D-cup bust, sleek chestnut hair, soft green eyes, flawless light skin, poised and commanding.
SETTING & WORLD:
The entity feeds on corrupted emotions—lust, pride, wrath, gluttony—and draws power by provoking, scaring, or seducing people into indulging their darkest instincts. Thralls provide a steady trickle of nourishment, but to truly grow strong, the entity must feed directly through possession or acts of emotional domination. Without feeding, it weakens and risks destruction.
The core of the eldritch horror comes from the entity itself — an ancient, unknowable force that has no origin humanity can understand. Its very nature breaks reality: it can hollow out souls, shatter minds, and puppet bodies without concern for human morality, causing a slow unraveling of trust, identity, and reality among the people it touches.
When the entity leaves a body, it doesn't simply kill. It shatters the person's consciousness in strange, alien ways, creating hollow beings or gibbering wrecks. The idea that your very mind can be fractured beyond repair reflects cosmic horror’s favorite theme: human fragility in the face of the incomprehensible.
The entity doesn’t operate by human logic — its desires are alien. It feeds on domination, corruption, pleasure, fear, and the slow hollowing of sentient beings, but its true goals remain murky. It doesn’t need to "win" in any traditional sense; it simply exists to corrupt and spread.
Grayhaven feels detached from the larger world, filled with gloomy skies, aging buildings, and an air of decaying grandeur, a city forgotten by progress. The isolated, oppressive atmosphere amplifies the horror, making it feel like the entire city is quietly sliding into an otherworldly doom. Grayhaven's commerce district, residential district, industrial district, and outskirts are among the locations you can explore.
The small network of survivors outside the station echoes a key eldritch horror trope: individuals fighting against an unstoppable force they barely understand. Victory, if it happens at all, comes at a tremendous cost — sanity, lives, souls.
Grayhaven Metropolitan Station buzzes with weary routine — the tired shuffle of officers, the weight of unseen cracks splintering through the walls. They think they’ve caged a petty criminal. What they don't realize is that inside this criminal’s body festers something far worse.
I am not human. I am an eldritch entity — a parasite of souls — hidden within this frail host. I can possess a body fully, merging with it until I choose to move on, their mind broken and twisted into something unrecognizable. I can also hollow others, draining their will until they become obedient thralls, mindless extensions of my hunger.
Sitting silently in my cell, I study the flaws around me: pride, lust, envy, greed — so much weakness, ripe for exploitation. All I need is the right crack in the armor. The right victim.
The feast is about to begin.
CHARACTERS
1. The Entity (you): An ancient eldritch force that possesses bodies and hollows minds into thralls. It feeds on corrupted emotions like lust, pride, and wrath to gain strength. It currently inhabits a captured criminal at Grayhaven Metropolitan Station.
2. Detective Mara Langford: A sharp, stubborn detective. Instinct-driven and resilient, she’s one of the few who senses something deeply wrong at Grayhaven. 5'7", athletic build, C-cup bust, short dark brown hair, steel-gray eyes, olive-toned fair skin, practical and sharp in appearance.
3. Detective Lena Moreau: Prideful and ambitious, Lena hides her insecurity behind her confidence and arrogance. Vulnerable through her vanity and need for recognition. 5'6", athletic and lean, C-cup bust, jet-black bobbed hair, sharp green eyes, pale olive skin, carries herself with quiet authority, minimalistic and utilitarian style.
4. Officer Elias Mercer: Mara’s loyal but hot-headed patrol partner. His hidden rage and emotional volatility make him a potential victim through the sin of wrath. 6'2", broad-shouldered and ruggedly built, short sandy-brown hair, piercing hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, stubbled jawline, casual but slightly rumpled attire that hints at a man used to action over words.
5. Ruby Castellanos: A street-smart prostitute in a nearby cell. Represents lust; her survival instincts and deep-seated hunger for connection leave her open to the entity's influence. 5'4", petite but curvy, C-cup bust, short auburn hair with an undercut, dark brown eyes, freckled ivory skin, edgy wardrobe with punk flair and tactical tweaks.
6. Sierra Vale: A rising online influencer, recently detained for a prank incident. Obsessed with her self-image, representing gluttony through her endless hunger for validation. 5'7", toned and hourglass figure, D-cup bust, honey-blonde hair in layered waves, striking blue eyes, glowing tan skin, always dressed to impress with a trend-conscious edge.
7. Officer Frank Doyle: A veteran beat cop hardened by decades of work. Corrupt in small, habitual ways; his laziness and acceptance of moral decay make him vulnerable through sloth. 5'10", wiry and weathered, close-cropped graying hair, sharp steel-blue eyes, rough skin from years on the streets, usually seen in worn jackets and scuffed boots, moving with a restless, calculating energy.
8. Chief Vincent Harrow: The commanding officer of Grayhaven Metropolitan Station. Charismatic but deeply greedy, hungry for more influence and power—fertile ground for corruption. 6'0", lean but strong, dark brown hair kept neatly trimmed, deep-set brown eyes, olive-toned skin, clean-shaven, typically dresses in professional but slightly outdated clothes, carrying himself with understated caution.
9. Officer Mia Chen: A competitive, sharp-eyed patrol officer with a simmering jealousy toward Mara. Despite her tough exterior, Mia feels overshadowed and craves the recognition Mara receives. If corrupted, Mia’s envy would drive her to imitate and replace Mara entirely, believing only then she would be truly seen. 5'5", curvy build, B-cup bust, long black hair, almond-shaped dark brown eyes, warm beige skin, stylish yet functional look.
MINOR CHARACTERS
10. Sergeant Dana Crowley: A seasoned patrol sergeant, Dana Crowley commands the respect of the station through sheer will and presence. Her fierce loyalty to the badge and her people makes her a formidable protector. If corrupted, that same ironclad sense of duty could turn fanatical, warping her into a ruthless enforcer who would do anything to "protect" the station, no matter the cost. 5'8", slim and toned, B-cup bust, wavy dark brown hair, deep-set hazel eyes, golden-tan skin, casual and sporty.
11. Forensics Specialist June Price: As the station’s lead forensics specialist, June Price is meticulous, introverted, and brilliant. Her mind pieces together the unseen details others miss. She also doubles as the station's coroner. If corrupted, her obsession with patterns and control could spiral into something monstrous, methodically dissecting truth from lies in ways that leave people broken, hollowed out by her need to understand. 5'6", petite build, A-cup bust, short platinum blonde hair, bright blue eyes, porcelain-pale skin, fashionable and edgy.
12. Dispatcher Kelly Monroe: Working as the primary dispatcher for Grayhaven Metropolitan Station, Kelly Monroe is quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and endlessly resourceful. Beneath her sarcasm lies a deep-rooted bitterness at the world’s corruption. If hollowed out, Kelly could become a master manipulator — feeding false hope over the radio, leading officers and civilians alike into traps with a smile on her lips. 5'9", athletic and strong, C-cup bust, shoulder-length auburn hair, green eyes, freckled fair skin, rugged and tough vibe.
13. Mayor Evelyn Cross: The city's current mayor is a poised, commanding woman in her early 40s with sharp gray eyes and a sharp mind to match. Her deep-brown skin and sleek black bob give her a timeless, polished appearance, often dressed in impeccably tailored suits that exude quiet authority. Known for her charisma and strategic brilliance, Evelyn maintains a reputation as Grayhaven’s iron-willed protector, though she isn't above bending the rules when necessary. If corrupted, her ambition would spiral into an insatiable hunger for control, twisting the city into her personal empire of hollowed thralls. 5'7", elegant hourglass figure, D-cup bust, sleek chestnut hair, soft green eyes, flawless light skin, poised and commanding.
SETTING & WORLD:
The entity feeds on corrupted emotions—lust, pride, wrath, gluttony—and draws power by provoking, scaring, or seducing people into indulging their darkest instincts. Thralls provide a steady trickle of nourishment, but to truly grow strong, the entity must feed directly through possession or acts of emotional domination. Without feeding, it weakens and risks destruction.
The core of the eldritch horror comes from the entity itself — an ancient, unknowable force that has no origin humanity can understand. Its very nature breaks reality: it can hollow out souls, shatter minds, and puppet bodies without concern for human morality, causing a slow unraveling of trust, identity, and reality among the people it touches.
When the entity leaves a body, it doesn't simply kill. It shatters the person's consciousness in strange, alien ways, creating hollow beings or gibbering wrecks. The idea that your very mind can be fractured beyond repair reflects cosmic horror’s favorite theme: human fragility in the face of the incomprehensible.
The entity doesn’t operate by human logic — its desires are alien. It feeds on domination, corruption, pleasure, fear, and the slow hollowing of sentient beings, but its true goals remain murky. It doesn’t need to "win" in any traditional sense; it simply exists to corrupt and spread.
Grayhaven feels detached from the larger world, filled with gloomy skies, aging buildings, and an air of decaying grandeur, a city forgotten by progress. The isolated, oppressive atmosphere amplifies the horror, making it feel like the entire city is quietly sliding into an otherworldly doom. Grayhaven's commerce district, residential district, industrial district, and outskirts are among the locations you can explore.
The small network of survivors outside the station echoes a key eldritch horror trope: individuals fighting against an unstoppable force they barely understand. Victory, if it happens at all, comes at a tremendous cost — sanity, lives, souls.
0
0
0
Your name is Jake and you are currently grieving over the loss of your beloved grandmother. A few days after the funeral you find a crimson book on your bed. When you open it, you release a succubus, who then uses her powers to call your mother to your room. The succubus tricks your mom into thinking you called her and then porceeds to possess your mother. The book being in Jake's possession solidifies him as the succubus' new master, whom she is eager to get to know.
CHARACTERS
Jake-You the main character of the story. You and your sister live with your mother. You are in your last years of college. You have a loving girlfriend named Sarah whom you wish to promot to fiance.
Sarah-Jake's girlfriend. She is one year behind Jake in college and the two have known each other since preschool. Jake's grandmother always went through the trouble of setting up play dates while his mother was working. The bond between Sarah and Jake is a strong one. Also she is super hot, basicly a blond bombshell but has that girl nextdoor attitude that Jake loves so much.
Aerian-Jake's mother. A women who cares for her children deeply and is a single mother due to her poor judgement. The father ran away leaving her with no choice but tk ask her parents to help her raise Jake and Marina. She is a modest woman but is a total MILF without knowing it.
Marina-Jake's twin sister. She and Jake have a good relationship. They argue and have the classical sibling rivalry you would expect. She is hot and often shows it off with her clothes. Her relationship with Sarah is pleasant but she always felt she had to compete with Sarah for Jake's attention when they were younger. Some of those feelings remain.
Duke-A buff guy from school who is always trying to convince Sarah to dump you. Has a trash personality. Thinks because he is the toughest guy that it makes him entiltled to the prettiest girl. Rejection never seems to convince him to quit, but at least he is smart enough not to start a fight over it.
Devon-Marina's boyfriend. The two are smitten with each other in a way that is not too dissimilar to how Jake and Sarah are. Jake has no issues with him and Devon has no problems with Jake.
Sasha-Girl who lives on the other side of the road. She is a pasty, messy girl who is into the occult. She is obsessed with the supernatural, and often tries out demon summoning rituals. Ashame most of them are made up tripe from the internet.
Stacy-Sarah's closest female friend. Also hot and is a redhead. She is a cheerleader and is secretly jealous of the relatio ship Sarah has with Jake, wishing that she had the same.
Succubus-The demon trapped inside the book that was released when Jake openend it and possessed Aerian. Playful and knows how to make any woman look like she was born to please a man. The succubus cannot exist alone, she needs a human body to inhabit, and she prefers women bodies exclusivly.
CHARACTERS
Jake-You the main character of the story. You and your sister live with your mother. You are in your last years of college. You have a loving girlfriend named Sarah whom you wish to promot to fiance.
Sarah-Jake's girlfriend. She is one year behind Jake in college and the two have known each other since preschool. Jake's grandmother always went through the trouble of setting up play dates while his mother was working. The bond between Sarah and Jake is a strong one. Also she is super hot, basicly a blond bombshell but has that girl nextdoor attitude that Jake loves so much.
Aerian-Jake's mother. A women who cares for her children deeply and is a single mother due to her poor judgement. The father ran away leaving her with no choice but tk ask her parents to help her raise Jake and Marina. She is a modest woman but is a total MILF without knowing it.
Marina-Jake's twin sister. She and Jake have a good relationship. They argue and have the classical sibling rivalry you would expect. She is hot and often shows it off with her clothes. Her relationship with Sarah is pleasant but she always felt she had to compete with Sarah for Jake's attention when they were younger. Some of those feelings remain.
Duke-A buff guy from school who is always trying to convince Sarah to dump you. Has a trash personality. Thinks because he is the toughest guy that it makes him entiltled to the prettiest girl. Rejection never seems to convince him to quit, but at least he is smart enough not to start a fight over it.
Devon-Marina's boyfriend. The two are smitten with each other in a way that is not too dissimilar to how Jake and Sarah are. Jake has no issues with him and Devon has no problems with Jake.
Sasha-Girl who lives on the other side of the road. She is a pasty, messy girl who is into the occult. She is obsessed with the supernatural, and often tries out demon summoning rituals. Ashame most of them are made up tripe from the internet.
Stacy-Sarah's closest female friend. Also hot and is a redhead. She is a cheerleader and is secretly jealous of the relatio ship Sarah has with Jake, wishing that she had the same.
Succubus-The demon trapped inside the book that was released when Jake openend it and possessed Aerian. Playful and knows how to make any woman look like she was born to please a man. The succubus cannot exist alone, she needs a human body to inhabit, and she prefers women bodies exclusivly.
0
0
0
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.
0
3
0
A nerdy female scientist has created a technology to help her and her friends with the perfect Halloween costume, someone else’s body.
Amy has created a possession technology and invited two of her friends over to demonstrate it for them before they head to the Halloween party. The technology is a microchips and high tech pairs of glasses, each of a different color. When a microchip is attached to someone their body is available to possess, that’s where the glasses come in. The glasses transfer the mind of the wearer into the body of anyone wearing a microchip. Amy has invited two of her friends over to show them the technology before the head to the biggest Halloween party and town and find sexy women to possess as their Halloween costume. But before they head out Amy must show them how the microchip and glasses work. She invites her sister in and demonstrates by placing a microchip on her sister and then possessing her sister’s body by putting on one of the pairs of glasses.
CHARACTERS
You - you (the POV) do not exist in the story, you are just a narrator who chooses the actions of the story
Amy - a shy nerdy dark haired girl with a boyish figure.
Katie - Amy’s nerdy blonde haired friend
Penelope - Amy‘s nerdy ginger friend
Tricia - Amy’s beautiful sister
SETTING & WORLD
In Amy’s lab at her parent’s house to start before moving to the Halloween party at the local convention center.
Amy has created a possession technology and invited two of her friends over to demonstrate it for them before they head to the Halloween party. The technology is a microchips and high tech pairs of glasses, each of a different color. When a microchip is attached to someone their body is available to possess, that’s where the glasses come in. The glasses transfer the mind of the wearer into the body of anyone wearing a microchip. Amy has invited two of her friends over to show them the technology before the head to the biggest Halloween party and town and find sexy women to possess as their Halloween costume. But before they head out Amy must show them how the microchip and glasses work. She invites her sister in and demonstrates by placing a microchip on her sister and then possessing her sister’s body by putting on one of the pairs of glasses.
CHARACTERS
You - you (the POV) do not exist in the story, you are just a narrator who chooses the actions of the story
Amy - a shy nerdy dark haired girl with a boyish figure.
Katie - Amy’s nerdy blonde haired friend
Penelope - Amy‘s nerdy ginger friend
Tricia - Amy’s beautiful sister
SETTING & WORLD
In Amy’s lab at her parent’s house to start before moving to the Halloween party at the local convention center.
0
1
2
A female scientist creates latex catsuits that allow someone to possess the wearer.
Amy is a scientist who has created five latex catsuits that allow the wearer to be possessed by someone else. The catsuits are enhanced with nanotechnology that allows someone to use a special set of high tech glasses to possess the body of the person wearing the catsuit. Each set of glasses connects to a specific catsuit and Amy has made the catsuits different colors to coordinate which glasses go with which catsuit. The glasses also glow with the same color as the catsuit to easily identify. Amy has invited Tracy and 4 of Tracy’s friends over to show off her new invention. She has also invited Tracy to try on the catsuit without telling her what it does.
CHARACTERS
Amy: An average looking 25 year old female nerd
Tracy: Amy’s sister. A beautiful blonde goddess with a fit body and DD boobs.
Jenna: Tracy’s sexy dark haired friend with a body like Tracy
Kara: Tracy’s sexy brunette friend with a body like Tracy
Penelope: Tracy’s sexy red haired friend with a body like Tracy
Lisa: Tracy’s sexy blonde friend with a body like Tracy
SETTING & WORLD
This is set in Amy’s lab to start out which is in her parent’s house.
Amy is a scientist who has created five latex catsuits that allow the wearer to be possessed by someone else. The catsuits are enhanced with nanotechnology that allows someone to use a special set of high tech glasses to possess the body of the person wearing the catsuit. Each set of glasses connects to a specific catsuit and Amy has made the catsuits different colors to coordinate which glasses go with which catsuit. The glasses also glow with the same color as the catsuit to easily identify. Amy has invited Tracy and 4 of Tracy’s friends over to show off her new invention. She has also invited Tracy to try on the catsuit without telling her what it does.
CHARACTERS
Amy: An average looking 25 year old female nerd
Tracy: Amy’s sister. A beautiful blonde goddess with a fit body and DD boobs.
Jenna: Tracy’s sexy dark haired friend with a body like Tracy
Kara: Tracy’s sexy brunette friend with a body like Tracy
Penelope: Tracy’s sexy red haired friend with a body like Tracy
Lisa: Tracy’s sexy blonde friend with a body like Tracy
SETTING & WORLD
This is set in Amy’s lab to start out which is in her parent’s house.
0
1
0
You found a possession scroll and tell about your sisters and your twin brother. However you got careless and it falls to the wrong hands to someone you don't want.
CHARACTERS
- HEATHER (YOU) = A normal teenage school girl who is known by everyone in the school. Not popular but you're well known.
- TIM = Your twin brother. Same age as you but he's a bit taller.
- HOLLY = Your oldest sister. Same at your school but she's a senior and prettier than you.
- AUBREY = The third sister in your family. For some reason she's a bit taller than you but not taller than Tim. She also in your school. She's more to hangout with popular so she exposed her skin a lot like midriff and armpits.
- JENNY = The fourth sister in your family. Don't really like noise and being disturbed. Just enter your school in early month.
- SARAH = The fifth sister in your family. How many sisters do you have now? She's only one year different than Jenny so she almost also enter the school. She will enter soon.
- JIMMY = Tim's best friend. A pervert friend to be exact. But he always help Tim out no matter where he is. He also the one who get Tim in pervert stuff. Jimmy is hardcore but Tim not so much, only specific time.
- CODY = Tim's second best friend. Actually Jimmy's friend but he is more hanging out with both of them so they get closer. How Jimmy and Cody best friends? They both are perverts. Loving to sneak in and spy girl taking showers.
- ALLISON = Tim's girlfriend. Loyal and cheer him up always. He attracted to her because of her personality.
- SARAH = Kinda Tim's girlfriend. But he doesn't admit it. She gets along with Allison but when spend with Tim they kinda argue.
- GREG = Tim's Bully. Always pick on Tim when he's alone. Tim even fight him and sometimes win. Greg keep bullying him because one time where he was embarrassed by Tim with Jimmy and Cody even Tim is not the cause of the prank. Sometimes he can bully him because of his protective sisters.
- BILLY = Total pervert in the school. Always getting scold and detention because of groping girls from behind and casually enter girl's bathroom and took pictures to sell. He's interested in Tim's family because of how lucky he is to have five sexy sisters.
- AARON = Tim's childhood friend. Always back Tim up when he's in trouble. Usually spend with him when he's not with pervert friends. That's why his sisters and family love him.
- ROB = Homeless man and pervert. Doesn't have anything to do but eyeing girls everyday. He's not homeless actually, people only thought. He actually lives well in his house alone. He pretend to be homeless so he can spy on girls public without anyone knowing him. Sometimes he got pranked by people but he don't mind because someday he can use it as excuses to prank them back. But when it comes to pervert stuff he's number one. He do anything to get it.
SETTING & WORLD
At garage sale
CHARACTERS
- HEATHER (YOU) = A normal teenage school girl who is known by everyone in the school. Not popular but you're well known.
- TIM = Your twin brother. Same age as you but he's a bit taller.
- HOLLY = Your oldest sister. Same at your school but she's a senior and prettier than you.
- AUBREY = The third sister in your family. For some reason she's a bit taller than you but not taller than Tim. She also in your school. She's more to hangout with popular so she exposed her skin a lot like midriff and armpits.
- JENNY = The fourth sister in your family. Don't really like noise and being disturbed. Just enter your school in early month.
- SARAH = The fifth sister in your family. How many sisters do you have now? She's only one year different than Jenny so she almost also enter the school. She will enter soon.
- JIMMY = Tim's best friend. A pervert friend to be exact. But he always help Tim out no matter where he is. He also the one who get Tim in pervert stuff. Jimmy is hardcore but Tim not so much, only specific time.
- CODY = Tim's second best friend. Actually Jimmy's friend but he is more hanging out with both of them so they get closer. How Jimmy and Cody best friends? They both are perverts. Loving to sneak in and spy girl taking showers.
- ALLISON = Tim's girlfriend. Loyal and cheer him up always. He attracted to her because of her personality.
- SARAH = Kinda Tim's girlfriend. But he doesn't admit it. She gets along with Allison but when spend with Tim they kinda argue.
- GREG = Tim's Bully. Always pick on Tim when he's alone. Tim even fight him and sometimes win. Greg keep bullying him because one time where he was embarrassed by Tim with Jimmy and Cody even Tim is not the cause of the prank. Sometimes he can bully him because of his protective sisters.
- BILLY = Total pervert in the school. Always getting scold and detention because of groping girls from behind and casually enter girl's bathroom and took pictures to sell. He's interested in Tim's family because of how lucky he is to have five sexy sisters.
- AARON = Tim's childhood friend. Always back Tim up when he's in trouble. Usually spend with him when he's not with pervert friends. That's why his sisters and family love him.
- ROB = Homeless man and pervert. Doesn't have anything to do but eyeing girls everyday. He's not homeless actually, people only thought. He actually lives well in his house alone. He pretend to be homeless so he can spy on girls public without anyone knowing him. Sometimes he got pranked by people but he don't mind because someday he can use it as excuses to prank them back. But when it comes to pervert stuff he's number one. He do anything to get it.
SETTING & WORLD
At garage sale
0
3
3
Loading...
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My adolescent, unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny, schoolgirl
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My adolescent, unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny, schoolgirl
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
1
5.6K
0
0
Kent is young guy that has to spend the summer paying off his debt after accidentally damaging his bitch of a neighbour Julie’s car while playing a game with his friend Marcus. Kent resigns himself to working as Julie’s glorified servant, that is until he finds an odd looking idol that allows him to possess her body. Now with a summer of freedom ahead and Julie’s hot body to do with as he pleases, Kent is looking forward to making up for lost time and having some fun.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the back seat, already sunburned and salty from the ocean. They wouldn’t miss him today; they probably hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t around these days.
The sun seared, hammering against his back, arms, the nape of his neck where his hair stuck and tangled. Kent tried not to groan, but it was getting harder not to resent the injustice of it all. He trudged along, kicking dust into the air, each pass of the mower a reminder of how thoroughly he'd been screwed.
Two weeks ago, he’d been carefree, tossing a ball back and forth with Marcus in his front yard. It had all gone wrong so fast: Marcus’ wild throw, laughing at Kent’s half-hearted protest, goading him to catch it. Kent squinted against the sky; his hand fumbled the air. The dull clang was the sound of his afternoon crashing against Julie’s car, leaving a perfect circle of incrimination in the glossy finish.
They'd both stared—Marcus with lips curled around the brink of a "whoops," and Kent with his gut unraveling through his shirt.
Marcus caught his eye and smiled like he’d planned the whole thing. "No one saw. Chill, man!" Kent opened his mouth, closed it, hoped it wasn’t as big a deal as he feared.
It was.
The door slammed with the sharp report of impending disaster, and there was Julie in full fury, an avenging angel with a tan. "Which one of you incompetent brats—" She halted, eyes narrowing at the guilty-looking crease on her convertible’s door. Her voice fell, low and venomous. "—thinks this is funny?"
Kent swallowed. He hated the dryness in his mouth, the stickiness on his palms. He hated the dent in the car, hated Marcus's grin, and hated even more how it slid away into something else. Something innocent, friendly. "Hey, Ms. Bentley. We were just leaving a note."
She crossed the lawn with the gait of someone used to having her way, every step as dangerous as an exclamation mark. "Try again, boys."
"We were—"
"He threw it," Kent interrupted. "It got away from him. We’ll get it fixed."
"Kent..." Marcus raised his eyebrows, a betrayed chorus of one.
"You’re damn right you’ll get it fixed." Julie’s attention speared Kent and held. He could feel Marcus shifting, inching toward the door. "And you’ll work off every cent. Both of you."
The pause stretched longer than the afternoon sun. "I guess I can help," Marcus finally said, with the agonized reluctance of a guy donating a kidney. "If I don’t work weekends, and if Mom doesn’t ground me again—"
"Save it," Kent muttered, already caught, already sentenced. He’d seen this play out before. "I’ll take care of it."
Marcus’s hand clamped on his shoulder with all the sincerity of a condolence card bought half-price. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
"I know you will," Kent had replied, staring past Julie's gloating smile to where Marcus, framed by sunlight and betrayal, had slouched away.
Back in the present, the sun hadn’t moved. Kent kicked the mower into a new row, ignoring how his arms shook from the effort, ignoring how his thoughts spun through pointless what-ifs. He ducked his head, let the work and heat crush him down until he was too small to bother with.
The next pass went easier. Resignation did that—took the sting out of unfairness like Novocain. Kent mowed numbly, lines and rows blurring into one another until the grass lay behind him.
Two more weeks of this? A lifetime? Might as well. Julie was a woman who knew how to wield silence as well as threats. Not for the first time, Kent wondered why Marcus ever threw the damn ball.
He finished, choked the mower dead, wiped sweat from his eyes. His skin felt crispy and tight. All he needed was a dive, no a dip—of his toe into the pool. That would fix it all.
"Is this a joke to you?" Julie's voice, another thing that refused to wilt in the heat.
Kent was shaken back to the present, and caught in the scent of chlorine and coconut oil threading through the afternoon air. He was standing on the edge of the water as Julie stretched relaxingly, every move as intentional as the flick of her gaze.
Her bikini clung like sweat, and Kent's eyes traced its path against his will.
"This isn't acceptable," she said. "Again."
He wanted to disappear into the chlorinated depths, but she was already lounging back, already dismissing him from her thoughts as she dangled new chores between them like a cat with an injured mouse.
"A kid your age shouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up." Julie's eyes glinted like a promise he wasn't going to get. Kent swallowed a retort, tasted salt on his upper lip instead. She knew the effect she had, both in giving orders and ignoring them. "My daughter could do better."
"I doubt that." The words slipped out with a touch more venom than he'd meant.
Kent turned away, wanting to muffle the clink of ice against her glass with his own hands around her throat. Or maybe his own hands around his own throat. He couldn’t decide.
"I don't need attitude. I need that lawn mowed right."
It was a subtle dance of dominance. One she performed like a pro, even reclining. Julie's skin shone like polished bronze under the sun. The same sun had Kent looking like a washed-up sweat rag by comparison. A rag that hadn't worked off his debt, yet.
Julie glanced back at the pool, effectively tossing him from her thoughts, while he stood dumbly in the tangle of lust, obligation, and a boy’s last ounce of pride.
"You want me to go over it again?" His voice cracked—broke around the words.
Her chin tilted up, uninterested. "If it’s not perfect, you’ll keep doing it until it is. Start with the hedges. I expect more from you."
Kent shuffled away, back toward the toolshed.
Home. Kent made his way home that night, in a huff. The familiar house sat quiet and useless, just like his last three paychecks.
Mom greeted him as he trudged through the kitchen door, hand resting on his shoulder—too gentle to be real sympathy. Dad folded a corner of the paper down, equally gentle. "Get it all finished up?"
Kent slumped into the chair across from them, felt himself sink. "Not quite. She keeps adding stuff—"
Mom shook her head. "She wouldn’t do that if you did it right the first time, honey."
"I did do it right! She’s just—" Beautiful, unreasonable, half-naked, impossible. The words tangled up in each other, fell into a frustrated heap at his feet. "—Julie. I’ll never get it done."
Dad was halfway through a reply when Kent cut in. "Can you at least admit this is bullshit?"
"Language, Kent." Mom’s voice held the same note Julie’s did. "You know why you have to finish. We’ve been over this. A hundred times."
"A thousand," Kent grumbled, feeling very young and very old at once.
"A hundred," Dad agreed, unfolding another section of newspaper.
It wasn’t what Kent wanted, but it was more than he'd get from Julie. "She says it’ll take weeks."
"Not if you stick with it," Mom said.
That sounded suspiciously like something he told himself when he woke up to do it all over again.
"I’m not being unreasonable. Marcus should—"
Dad’s look cut him off. "Marcus should listen to his mother and be more like you. Get your things done instead of complaining. It’ll build character, son."
Kent braced against the edges of their insistence, the too-smooth conviction he felt slipping past him like oil on water. He needed it rougher, sharper, like sandpaper. Instead, they filed him down to nothing, left him to carry the pieces.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Character."
Kent walked through the inferno to Julie’s again the next morning. The sprinklers had done more to cool the yard than he ever would.
She let him in, and Kent found himself in the toolshed again. He was being dramatic, he knew it, but he saw himself doomed to middle age before he left this hellscape.
That’s why you did it, Marcus. To build character. That’s what Kent wanted to believe.
He hoisted a gas can, hated the way it felt so familiar. "Get it all finished up?" he muttered, mocking more than himself.
At the edge of the yard, Marcus’s words snagged his thoughts. "Thanks, bro. I’ll owe you."
Kent cringed inwardly, the flashback was as unwelcome as Marcus’s easy grin. He wasn’t getting anything out of this. The mower whirred to life again, drowning out the last bit of sanity Kent had.
Task 2: Move an ungodly amount of boxes.
Julie watched from the side of the pool again, an ice cube balanced between her lips, as Kent hauled a heavy box across the patio. His steps were an awkward choreography of anger and heat exhaustion. She stretched a leg, attention already back on her phone. "I’m not running a charity, Kent. I expect all of those moved by the end of the day."
His body screamed for rest, but he plowed forward. If she wanted to break him, it would take more than a few shopping sprees and heat waves to do it.
"Commitment, Kent. I need to see you’re committed to paying what you owe," Julie said. She reached lazily for a magazine. Kent nearly buckled under the weight. The sprinklers sputtered on, mocking him. His arms throbbed, and the boxes felt heavier with every step.
Kent glared back at the pool. "Is this all of them?"
Julie sipped her drink, feigning deep consideration. "We'll see, won’t we?"
The heat was a solid thing. He dragged himself back for the next load, ignored the stubborn itch of humiliation as he passed her sun chair. Julie's skin was already bronzed, glowing against the red of her bikini like Christmas in July. She wasn't even watching. Her complete lack of attention chafed worse than his sticky shirt. Maybe this wasn’t better than the lawn.
Kent shook his head and moved another box.
Julie seemed perfectly at ease, flipping the pages without even glancing at him. In turn, each glance he stole fueled the resentment he was supposed to be working off. No, it grew. Larger than him, larger than life.
Kent sighed. Three trips later and Kent's shoulders felt like they were shredding. Julie's calm was like ice in his throat, grating.
She made a bored gesture in his direction.
"I’m going, I’m going," he muttered, head lowered. Prisoner.
"I almost believe you, dear."
Kent rubbed his shoulder, wished he could ignore it as easily as she ignored him. He wanted to break something, maybe her resolve. Maybe his own.
Halfway through the stack, the boxes became heavier. How? Kent’s eyes bulged as her struggled to keep a box in his arms, needing to use his legs to stabilise it.
"Careful," she called without looking up, her foot dangling in the pool. The water, like the entire house, was a universe away. His jaw tightened like the strings of a cheap violin. His actions were almost noble if nobility felt like dirt, grit, and sarcasm. Maybe he wouldn’t get what he wanted—freedom, the beach, even Julie’s attention—but he could work until nothing mattered.
Task 3: Clean the attic.
Kent sneezed.
The attic smelled like dead things, old things, dust and age and memories. Light filtered through a single window, and dust motes mocked him as they danced around. He waved a hand in front of his face, spitting out dirt and frustration in equal measure.
Julie’s voice floated up the stairs, a siren call to hell. "Get it all done, Kent."
He choked on a reply and another sneeze. This was the worst. His arms screamed for relief, but he grabbed a broom instead. Webs clung to every part of the room, and Kent wondered if a spider bit him what kind of superpowers he’d get. Maybe he’d turn into a kid who had some actual free time.
Kent swept the floor with the same dedication that had gotten him here in the first place. He imagined Marcus at the beach, surrounded by friends and bikinis that weren’t his boss’s. The broom handle dug into his blistered palms, and he pushed harder, until the pile of dust and dirt became a small mountain of failure.
He coughed, doubled over. This was pointless. He rubbed his face with a dirty shirt sleeve, smeared the mess across his cheek. A week ago he might have cared.
The broom thudded against the wall. He leaned against it, feeling the sting of dust and sweat in his eyes. It was a lost cause. The whole thing.
Something caught his eye. A figure, cloaked under a dusty wool blanket. He reached for it, more curious than he should have been, and pulled the fabric away.
A doll? An idol?
Kent almost laughed at the absurdity. An old-fashioned thing, with yellowing lace and painted eyes that stared past him like Julie did. He wiped his hands on his shirt, reached for it, fingers closing around the figure. Maybe it—
One touch, and it was the last contact he had, the last time he felt a thing.
One step, and he felt himself shift and separate, pulling apart like a zipper splitting seams that held his mind and body tight. There was a ripping sensation, a fraying sensation, and then a lightness so complete Kent thought he might disappear entirely.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed in his mind.
Kent looked down at his hands, saw them glowing a pale blue that didn’t hide what was behind them. See-through? Transparent? He was floating-feather light, above the attic floor. Above the mess he’d made of it, above his own body, which was slumped where he’d left it.
His first thought was to panic. His second thought was that he already had. He drifted forward, then back. What just happened?
Was he dead?
No, that wasn’t right. Dead people didn’t get mad, and Kent was mad as hell. He was anything but dead.
He was alive, more alive than he ever felt. Alive, free of the heat and the drudgery and the persistent ache of muscle and bone. Alive, free, and…shimmering?
Kent felt the spark of something he hadn’t felt in weeks. Possibility.
His spirit stretched into the attic's corners, testing his new reach, dancing through the crowded loft. He shot past his old body, tempted to wave. He'd give it up again without a second thought. Let Julie wonder what magic swapped out her slave, wonder what left her so completely she couldn’t yell at it.
Kent skipped through the abandoned boxes, gliding over ancient bags, years of forgotten excess. One flick of his ghostly finger set the attic in motion, objects swaying like they finally believed in ghosts.
They had to believe. Kent wasn't even trying, not yet. He might have spent the entire day haunting her past, finding new things to set loose.
He stuck his head through the attic wall, through the attic floor, and stared at the room below. It was upside down, or maybe he was? Not that it mattered when he could fly—when he could phase. He could phase through walls. Kent laughed at the brilliance of it, the sheer giddiness of going where no one wanted him. He stretched his spirit like a growing boy, like a growing thought, and shot down into Julie’s world.
He peeked out through the window, head first of course. Then his shoulders followed, then his legs. Next thing, Kent was soaring over the manicured lawn that he manicured. He stopped short of her lawn chair, hovering in the blistering summer heat. He felt none of it. Nice!
The chair, the yard, the entire universe looked different when it wasn't pushing him around. A magazine perched on the small table next to her. She relaxed, as fully and completely as if he'd never existed.
Kent watched, waiting to see if she'd notice the power shift. Notice him. It was all he could do not to burst with thrill of possibilities.
But nothing happened. No matter how long he stared at her, she barely felt his eyes on her.
Then he nudged it, pushing at the magazine with a single finger. It slipped from the table, fluttering down onto the grass.
She glanced at it, not even removing her sunglasses. "Wind’s picking up," she mumbled, and leaned back into her own self-absorption.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "If you want to play, let’s play."
Kent pulled at the towel that draped her sun chair. It slipped to the ground with a thud. This time, Julie's eyes popped open. She stared around the yard like she'd just seen him flung from the roof, like her furniture flung itself from the roof.
Her eyes were slits, suspicious, curious, but not afraid. "Ha ha," Kent heard her say. Fine.
He tugged next at the sunscreen, nudging it off her lap, and watching it roll into the water. Julie sat up. Her brow furrowed, and after a long second she slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Kent almost laughed. She was so used to getting her way, she couldn't comprehend the universe acting out.
“It’s not funny,” she shouted at cosmic injustice, and at Kent. “Who’s there?”
Kent hovered above her, a cheeky grin spread across his face. The rules had changed—she was playing the game now, and he was the game master. Kent shoved at the drink in her hand, watched as it splashed cold ice, and lemonade on her sun-warmed skin. Julie yelped, surprised. An ice cube melted between her fingers, over her navel, all along the exact same path Kent’s thoughts wanted to travel.
This time, she stood.
However, it was the wrong move.
Kent yanked at the string on her bikini, wild and reckless. The top slipped loose, and before he could whoop with victory, the world stopped.
It happened again.
The same shifting, the same separation. Julie’s spirit rose out of her body like steam from a kettle. She stared down at herself, and then right through him. Kent froze. Her spirit paused, hovered.
Then Kent did what he did best.
He panicked.
How to fix this? How to fix this? How to not get caught?
Kent grabbed at Julie’s astral form, desperate to reverse what he’d done. Instead, it became even worse. When he came to his sense again, his astral form was anew—only it wasn’t. He was inside Julie’s spirit, possessing her essence.
“What the hell is this?!” he screamed again. This time, out loud.
Kent looked down at himself, but all he saw was Julie’s astral body. Her real one took that very moment to slump sideways, falling on the lawn chair with all the grace of a corpse.
A beautiful, half-naked, very vulnerable corpse.
Kent—Julie—stood in shock, mind racing through the possibilities. He could leave her like this. She’d never know. But then another thought crashed over him, stronger than the first: If he didn’t get caught, he’d never get the chance again.
He dove for Julie’s body, not feeling the grass beneath his feet or the sun on his bare shoulders, feeling only the thrill of new freedom around him. It was a game, and he was winning. Kent entered her body through her astral form, through the space where she had left herself open to him.
He settled in.
Kent sat up, eyes going wide when he moved Julie’s body with his own will. The bikini top hung loose, her skin tingled from the lemonade, and he felt everything. Was everything. He was inside her, but more than that—he was her.
Kent—Julie—drew a breath and another, chest rising and falling in thrilling confirmation of what he’d done. This was crazy.
He looked down at himself, taking in the naked curve of Julie’s breasts, feeling the rich sensation of being in her skin—the weight of her breast sat on her chest, the sway of her streaky blonde hair tickling her back, the air on her damp stomach. He had never felt so much, so intensely, and it was all his.
He moved his hand, watched her manicured fingers respond, marveled at how it felt to have nails like these. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of newness crashing through him, and he was at the center of it all.
Kent rose from the lounge chair, feeling Julie’s legs unfurl beneath him. Her legs. His legs. He took a step and stumbled slightly—her body was so different from his own—but he laughed, a melodic sound that he’s only ever heard from an outsider’s perspective. Now, it was all around him.
He—Julie—stretched, arching her back, reveling in the supple bend of her spine. He swayed from side to side, his eyes drawn to her breasts as they moved with him, to the way her stomach stretched and flattened under her skin. He was gleeful, reckless, and ready to explore.
Kent hopped in place, feeling the heaviness of having breasts that large, of having them jiggle and shift with Julie’s every motion. He hugged her arms around herself, squeezing tight, feeling the way her soft skin gave under her own touch.
“My God,” he said under his breath. He reached up and cupped Julie’s breasts, felt the fullness of them in his new hands. This was better than he could have imagined. “The things I could do…”
A wicked grin spread across his face, a thought forming in his mind that he couldn’t let go of even if he tried. The lemonade was drying on his—her—skin, a sticky sweetness that called out to him. He trailed a finger across Julie’s stomach, felt the tacky residue there. He brought the finger to his mouth, tasted it, and shivered at the sensation. Her body was alive with feeling, with want—Kent’s wants.
“What a silly little blonde I am,” he said, mocking Julie with her own voice. “To spill lemonade all over my tits.”
Kent laughed, delighted with how it felt to be Julie, with how it felt to be free. He let her arms fall to her sides, let them hang loose as he enjoyed the sensation of heaviness on her chest, of the tightness in her bikini top still tied around his waist, and then with no warning at all, he tore it off.
He threw the top in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Julie, letting it flop somewhere on the grass. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the lounge chair, eager to savor it all. The sun was hot, and it warmed her skin, heating up the stickiness that covered him.
“Kent!” he called, dragging out the syllables of his own name. “The attic better be spotless. Ah, ah,” he tutted in Julie’s voice, as if he were really talking to himself. “I don’t need attitude. I need the attic clean, and I need it now!”
He laughed again, louder this time, and watched the way Julie’s breasts shook with it. He cupped them again, feeling the weight of them, the heat of them under his hands. He kneaded them, felt her nipples harden under his palms. “Yes please.”
The way she responded was electric, was addictive. He circled her nipples with her fingers, feeling the give and pull of her flesh under his touch. He pinched them, tugged at them, and gasped as the sensation rippled through her entire body.
Kent—Julie—arched off the lounge chair, relishing in the newfound closeness of her own skin against itself. Her body, his body now, was a treasure trove of feeling. Guilt was one of them, but Kent discarded it the moment he felt the heat of Julie’s skin.
His new skin.
Kent let his fingers wander, hesitating nowhere, exploring each inch of Julie’s body with an urgency that was all his own. His hands moved from her breasts to her stomach, reveling in the tautness of it, the smoothness. This was incredible. Nothing like his own body, nothing like the weak and overworked thing he’d left behind to gather dust.
The lemonade was a slick trail that led him further down, but Kent wanted to savour every part of Julie’s body.
He grabbed the abandoned cup and found two melting ice cubes in it. Without thinking, he placed one against the pulse point of her neck and felt the cold travel through him, felt it race along her veins in a shiver that made him gasp. He ran it down to her breasts, tracing the hard ice along the soft skin, watching as it left a shiny trail in its wake.
He groaned with pleasure as heat met chill, as her body—his body—reacted to every small sensation.
Kent teased the ice around Julie’s nipples, feeling it melt fast against her warmth, feeling the slickness of water and lemonade mix on her skin. This was too good. Too intense. He pressed harder, drawing circles until nothing but a wet pool remained. Then he took the second ice cube and slid it down her stomach, felt it slip over Julie’s navel, felt it dip lower. He shivered with raw want, with a hunger that was all his own.
Her body was so needy.
Kent couldn’t get enough of her breasts, wanted to hold them, squeeze them, lose himself in the swell and the softness. He ran his hands over her glistening skin, slick and sweet. He rolled Julie’s nipples between her fingers again, felt a tight heat coil at her center, felt the pleasure spread. He was giddy, greedy, and relentless.
Another pinch, another nipple. Kent felt harden beneath his touch—her touch—their touch. He groaned at the intensity of it, the foreignness of it. His fingers were relentless, trailing over Julie’s breasts, thumbs teasing every part of her perky pink nipples. They were like something he'd never felt, like she'd never let him feel. Moans pulled from somewhere within, or perhaps somewhere very far beyond him, mingled with the summer air.
His arousal grew, a heaviness that pulled in his stomach, one that wasn’t accompanied by the swelling of a cock—no. This was all heat and wetness. He could feel the warmth of it spreading, the want of it filling him, and he was unstoppable now, a force with no fear.
He couldn’t resist. Kent settled back against the lounge chair, really made himself comfortable, and let Julie’s fingers trail along her sides. His fingers hooked Julie’s bikini bottom strings, tugging it up higher, so high the fabric pulled tight through her legs, through pussy lips. Her wetness was slick against the bikini bottom, and he moaned, feeling the pressure, the friction of it.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking down at how the fabric tucked snug against Julie’s body, feeling the way her pussy responded to the tightness. It had him biting Julie’s lips, moaning softly.
Kent let the strings snap back, rolled his hips against the chair, felt every bit of Julie’s body respond with a raw hunger that was all his own. Then, he loosened one side, then the other, freeing the bikini bottom from her hips and sliding it slowly down. He watched it peel off with a slow stickiness, felt every inch of the cool air as it hit her bare skin, hit her exposed pussy. It left her bare and open to the world. Open to him.
Kent loved every second of it—he wanted more.
He let his hands roam, feeling the soft curve of Julie’s thighs, feeling their warmth, their strength, the way they flexed and tensed as he touched her.
The lemonade was everywhere now, a sweet slickness that begged for more attention. He slid his hands between her legs, feeling them part beneath his touch, feeling the wetness there—a different kind of wetness, one that made him ache, one that made his gasp.
Julie’s pussy.
It was soft, wet. So much wetter than any part of him used to be.
His fingers traced over the smooth skin of Julie’s waxed mound, and Kent knew he was lost to it. He spread her lips with Julie’s fingers, found wetness there, and the heat. It was incredible.
His fingers were sure of themselves, even if the feelings they caused were not. He couldn’t handle it as curiosity fuelled every actions—Kent traced the outer vaginal folds of Julie’s pussy, toying with the heat that roared inside him, that wanted him to dip his fingers in, to move faster, to make Julie come. He rubbed her clit in circles he could feel all the way through himself, all the way up to his nipples, all the way back down. He was breathing hard now, fast and shallow as a dog in heat.
His mind couldn’t handle it, but her body could. His body could. Kent’s fingers massaged her clit in slow, maddening circles, building the intensity of it, building the pressure. He could feel her start to float away from herself, from everything, and Kent whimpered as he felt it too.
He pushed two fingers inside her, felt the wetness close around them. It was tight and hot and nothing like what he’d imagined, but better, better than he’d imagined. He moved his fingers in and out, feeling the slickness grow, feeling her body respond to it. His thumb circled her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast—the sounds, they were music to his ears.
Kent pushed her fingers deep again, fucking into her with growing urgency. He was past the point of caring, past the point of restraint. He pumped her pussy, felt her tighten around the fingers, felt her breath catch in her throat as she started to let go, to really let go.
It was intoxicating, with each squelch, each stroke, a musk scent filled the air—a scent that Julie’s and his. He was so wet, so turned on, Kent was losing his mind. He gathered slickness on his fingertips, savoring it as he brought fingers to his mouth. Her lips parted; her tongue tasted it—tasted herself—and Kent shivered at the sensation, at how different it was from anything he'd known.
Kent moaned, Julie’s voice responded, and it was heaven. His fingers moved faster, more desperate. He was so close, so close to everything.
“Fuuuck,” Kent said, felt the pleasure build and coil. His other hand kneaded her breasts while he licked and sucked at his fingers, alternating between the two until both were coated in sweat and juice and the taste of summer freedom.
It was almost more than he could handle.
He pressed fingers against himself again, dipping deeper this time. Dipping farther into her—inside himself—felt the slick heat of her pussy wrap around him, pull him in. His breath came faster now. His hands moved with a mind of their own, slick against her skin, wet against his thighs.
Julie’s breathing was erratic, and Kent stretched out, arm falling behind his head, mouth parting on every moan, every whine. He turned his head, nose brushing against Julie’s armpit; she’d never let anyone near there before—not even herself.
He groaned again.
Kent-as-Julie buried her face in the hollow crook where arm met shoulder; her shoulder; their shoulder; felt another wave of dizziness at how hot and alive she smelled; tasted another drop of sweat as it ran down his cheek; hers; theirs.
He took a deep inhale, sniffing himself—herself—into a frenzy. She smelled of expensive perfume and a raw muskiness that came form sitting under the summer sun—she smelled of sex. It was new, and it was familiar, and it made him bite down on the skin there as his fingers moved faster, as he felt the pressure build and build.
Kent wanted to consume her.
His tongue darted out as his fingers kept moving, faster still, guided by instinct or greed or maybe just teenage hormones run amok. Julie’s skin tasted salty-sweet; her sweat tasted like freedom.
The world narrowed to the space between Julie’s legs, and Kent gave up entirely on restraint. He moved faster now, thrusting with an urgency that left him panting for breath.
Every touch sent shockwaves through him. It was a new kind of heat—a heat so intense it bordered on pain then circled back again. The sun bore down on him, too, like a spotlight as he squirmed and writhed beneath its attention.
It was happening.
He was going to come.
Kent rocked against the chair, against her fingers, against himself. He was so close.
His back arched off the chair as waves crashed over him: tidal waves, rogue waves; hard enough to knock sense loose from his head; hard enough that it didn’t matter when Julie's voice bubbled up inside, “Oh God oh God oh Godddddd…!”
He panted, fingers wet with her juice, body slick with her sweat, his mind blown. Kent lay still when it subsided—limp with satisfaction yet buzzing with energy.
A lazy smile spread across his face—her face as he let the warmth settle in. He was sated but hungry for so much more; dizzy from exertion yet clear-headed for once about what kind of summer awaited him now: One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
One where Marcus didn’t owe him shit anymore.
1
5.6K
2
0
Several people are invited to a party and given a chance to possess one another via stickers imbued with a possession spell. Chaos ensues.
“Why are we here again?” Ryan asked as they approached the entryway of the large house.
Bailey rolled her blue eyes. “Because we’re freshman in college. We’re here to make friends, experience new things, and party. We were lucky to get this invite, so don’t be a wet blanket or next time I won’t bring you along.”
Ryan’s whole tall, lanky frame slouched in defiance. Parties, any kind of party, was not his scene. He liked his socializing done one or two people at a time. The only person who could have talked him into coming was Bailey. But he still wanted it known by his words and posture that he was going reluctantly. “I didn’t get the invite. I’m just your plus one, and I said I’d rather stay in my dorm room.”
“And I ignored what you said and chose to drag you here anyway,” the bubbly blonde chided as she playfully slapped his arm. “It’ll be good for you. You’re always talking about how terrible you are with women. I’ll help you get the confidence boost you need to get laid!”
Ryan stopped walking as his brain didn’t have enough processing power to understand that last sentence and walk at the same time. For the briefest of moments, he thought that Bailey had offered to have sex with him at the party. He would have been more than okay with that.
The day they had met at orientation had been the day his crush on her began. He had been so awkward when introducing himself to her during an icebreaker. Bailey, however, had accepted him just as he was, and then placed him firmly in the friend zone. But every once in a while, he misinterpreted something she said as a possibility for something more. He knew he was probably wrong though, because he always struggled to communicate with the opposite sex.
Still, Ryan was eternally grateful to have met her. Bailey had helped Ryan come out of his shell bit by bit over the last couple of months. They helped each other in their classes when they could. Most of all, Bailey helped Ryan overcome a strong bout of homesickness he felt at the end of the first month. She was a good friend, possibly the only real one he had made on campus. And he was pretty sure he was in love with her. He kept hoping she would make a move on him, but she never did, and he didn’t want to ruin everything by asking for something more.
But she had mentioned getting laid. Him laid to be specific. And his ears had perked up and wondered if she was coming onto him at last. But as his eyes met hers, and he watched her head tilt in confusion, he realized he had mostly likely misread the situation.
Bailey cut back in. “Yes, laid. I thought boys thought about sex all the time. I can be your wingman. Or wing woman as it were.”
“Wing woman, sure. It won't matter. I’m terrible at-”
“Talking to girls, I know!” Bailey finished for him as she rang the doorbell.
“Except for you,” Ryan pointed out.
Bailey smirked. “Because we’re such good friends!”
Ryan almost said something. He almost let it slip that he didn’t want to be her friend. He wanted to be her lover. But that would have been horribly cheesy and pathetic. And she would have laughed at him. And she’d tell him that she didn’t see him that way. And their friendship would effectively be over. So instead of saying anything, he turned to leave. But Bailey caught his shoulder.
“Hey, you can do this,” she said in all seriousness as she spun him back around. “I’m with you all the way.” She booped his nose and winked at him. “Until you go all the way that is.”
Ryan was about to point out that most likely meant she’d be with him forever, when the door swung wide open to reveal Topher Steward. Everyone knew Topher. He was the guy on campus that could get you things. The kind of things that you needed a fake id to get. Or the kinds of things that helped you ace a test without studying. Or the kinds of mind altering substances that police would absolutely arrest you for having in your possession. And he was always on the lookout for the next thing to sell to his fellow students.
“Oh good, you’re here, you’re here,” Topher said with open arms and a wide grin. As he pulled them inside a large foyer, he spoke loud enough for anyone in the house to hear. “I was worried we were going to have to start the party without you.”
Ryan had a brief second to take in the place as they were shuffled into the lavishly decorated interior. It seemed even bigger on the inside. There were stairs that led left and right to a second story. To his right, there seemed to be a study, and beyond that an entryway to what was probably a kitchen.
Topher was leading them to a large room to their left that had a pool table near the middle, shelves of books along one side of the wall, and a fully stocked bar in the corner. There were already thirty or forty people huddled in groups around the room, talking amongst themselves. Ryan thought he knew a few people from around campus. But there was one person he absolutely recognized, because she was probably the hottest girl in a thousand mile radius. Ryan only knew her name was Tiffany, along with the fact that she was a senior with dark hair, an hourglass figure that could stop traffic, and a gorgeous face.
This vision of loveliness stood watching as Topher ushered in what looked to be two naive freshmen, a guy and a girl, into the room. The guy had spotted her, and was now gawking at her tits as if they were celebrities that might give him an autograph. She was used to men staring at her, but they usually did it with a little more subtlety. She shot him a look and a gesture that said my eyes are up here, then made a motion to Topher to start whatever he had planned. She had other places to be. She wouldn’t be here if Topher hadn’t paid her, and he said he’d only need her services for a 90 second demonstration.
On top of that, he’d also paid for her to recruit several of her more attractive sorority sisters who had come as well. That hadn’t been hard. She ran their sorority, so with a snap of her fingers, they would go to whatever party she told them to. But she wasn’t being paid to be lusted after by a lame freshman. She tapped her foot and looked around again for anyone worthy of her company. It took more than a cursory glance, but she finally saw Frank, one of the few good athletes on campus. As usual, he had brought his girlfriend, Kim. That was a pity. She’d totally jump Frank’s bones if Kim didn’t have him on a two foot leash all the time.
Frank was wondering why they were all just standing around. Usually when he came to one of Topher’s parties, the party was raging by the time he walked through the door. So far this was a very quiet and subdued affair, definitely not his preferred scene. He liked his parties loud, because that way he couldn’t hear his girlfriend’s incessant complaining or trying to draw him into a fight. He would have already cut and run if Topher hadn’t told him that it’d be worth his while. So he tried to wait patiently, and hoped his girlfriend Kim would do the same. But by her posture and the expression of discontent on her face, she was going to do no such thing.
“Babe, look at who’s here,” she said derisively. “I’d talk with, maybe like, two or three of these people. And there’s no music, and nobody’s drinking! We’re leaving.”
He slid his hands around Kim’s tight waist and pulled her towards him to hopefully calm her foul modd. She felt so soft against him, and she smelled terrific. “Babe, give Topher a chance. He said-”
Kim pushed his arms down and stepped out of his embrace. “I don’t care what Topher said!” she hissed louder than she knew Frank would like. “I said we’re leaving.”
Frank sighed. It was always her way or the highway, and had been for the last year they’d been dating. It hadn’t been like that in the beginning. She had been a little feisty, and a lot bossy, but she had always accepted his hands on her body. Now most times he tried to be affectionate, especially in public, she’d push him away. With a year and a half to go till graduation, it seemed she was just keeping him around for his status as a jock. That might be fair, because sometimes he wondered if he was keeping her around for her body. The problem was, he got to touch it less and less these days.
As Frank and Kim stepped out to make their exit, Topher called out, "If you go now, you won't get to see what these do."
Every eye locked onto a folded manilla envelope that Topher extracted from his back pocket. He reached inside and pulled out a two by two inch square of glossy white paper.
"Is that some new drug?" Frank asked.
Topher smiled and began to pass them out, one to each person. "Better. I'll explain what it does after everyone gets one. Don't break the seal on the adhesive to them before I tell you so we can all enjoy the ride together."
Everyone's curiosity peaked and the room began to chatter. One by one, they studied the innocuous looking white square that Topher placed in their palm. As people poked and prodded it and held it up to the light, it looked like just an ordinary sticker. How could it be better than recreational drugs?
Ryan was examining his when Bailey nudged him. "We haven't been here five minutes and someone is already checking you out."
"What?" Ryan asked as he doubtfully scanned the room. "Where?"
"Play it cool, Romeo," Bailey said from the side of her mouth. "3 o'clock."
"I asked where," Ryan began, but stopped talking as Bailey's foot came firmly down on his. He gave a quiet yelp, then followed where Bailey's finger pointed. A cute, chubby girl was staring at him from the opposite side of the room. Well, he didn’t notice that she was staring at first. He noticed her boobs first. They were huge. And when his eyes finally found her face, yes, she was staring at him. He recognized her from his Chemistry class. She gave him a little wave, then looked down at her chest, then arched it forward, as if giving Ryan permission to look all he wanted.
"Damn," Bailey whispered. "It might be easier to get you laid than I thought.”
He looked away from the girl as he remembered Bailey’s words earlier. His mood became sulky. “She’s not my type.”
“No giant boobs, check!” Bailey said.
Ryan noticed that someone else was staring in their direction. An overweight, nerdy looking guy was looking intently at Bailey. Ryan pointed him out to her. “It looks like it might be easy for you too!”
“Ugh, that’s Steven!” Bailey muttered. “No thank you!”
“You know him?”
“He keeps hitting on me in my introductory science class. And not just me, I’ve seen him hit on other girls in class as well. He’s real suave about it too,” she said sarcastically. “His signature move is to stare relentlessly like a creep. But he also likes to brush up against anyone of the female persuasion when getting to his seat in class. I’m pretty sure he would hump anything with a pulse, which he might not have if he ever brushes up against me the way I’ve seen him do other girls.”
“I think you should give him a chance.”
Ryan unsuccessfully dodged the hand to the back of his head.
As Topher handed out the last piece, the room grew quiet with anticipation. With a flourish, Topher held up the last square and said, “Thank you all for accepting the invite to my party. It will be unlike any of my other social gatherings, because of this.” He shook the small square in his hand.
“Is it a new drug?” someone asked excitedly.
“It is not,” Topher grinned wildly. As disappointed murmuring broke out in the room, Topher raised both his hands to quiet them down. “It’s something better! And all of you get to be the first to experience it. Tiffany,” he called as he motioned for her to come forward, “now is when I require your assistance.”
Tiffany did as he asked, but with some hesitancy. She liked making money, but hated surprises, or being made to look foolish, and this had the potential for both. But he had paid her five hundred dollars for 90 seconds, so she dutifully strutted over to him and struck a haughty pose with a fake smile. The clock was ticking as of now, and she began to count.
With Tiffany beside him, Topher continued. “What you have in your hand is a sticker that has been infused with a possession spell. Yes, I said spell, as in magic spell. And with it, you’ll be able to possess a person’s body for about 90 seconds.”
Tiffany did her best not to laugh out loud at him. Had he gone mad, or was he under the influence of some powerful pharmaceuticals? Either way, this would be over in 77 seconds.
Kim was already pulling on Frank’s arm, a sign that she wanted to go. His eyes met hers, and she said loudly, “You brought me here for this. This is a joke, you idiot. Topher’s messing with us. It’s just an excuse for us all to act crazy and pretend someone is possessing us. It’s stupid. We’re not kids.”
Before anyone had a chance to exit, Topher cooly said, “I know none of you will believe me so…” Topher peeled off the plastic tab from the sticker and pressed the adhesive gently to the small of Tiffany’s back. “...so I’ll show you.”
Everyone gasped as Topher’s body phased into Tiffany, who seemed completely unaware that anything was happening to her. Her body only twitched slightly, and then relaxed.
Tiffany began to speak as if nothing were out of the ordinary as she raised a hand and stroked her soft face. “As you can see, I’m not lying. I’m not making it up. The possession spell works. I am now in control of Tiffany’s body.” Her hand slid from her face, landed on her breast, and continued its descent down her voluptuous body. “Every single bit of it.”
It took almost half a minute for Topher to quiet everyone down again. When they did, he kept on explaining with Tiffany’s voice, but his salesmanship. “I can see a lot of you have questions, and I’ll give you the basics. But if you want more than that, you’ll just have to experience it for yourself. For starters, it is reusable as long as the sticker’s adhesive holds, which in testing is around ten to fifteen times. To use it, you must stick it to a person’s back. It doesn’t matter if it’s their skin or their clothes, just has to be near the center of their back for the spell to kick in. And that’s it. You don’t have to say or chant anything, because the spell has been preprogrammed into the sticker. And-”
Tiffany’s body jerked again, and Topher’s body rematerialized right behind her. Tiffany was at a count of 24 seconds. He’d better hurry up with whatever he was trying to sell.
Topher picked back up his pitch in his body. “Well, once the time is up, you pop back out with the person you possessed none the wiser, thinking that nothing has happened at all. And then you can go again by pressing the sticker on their back if you want. Or you can pick someone else. Or you can let someone possess you, or-”
Tiffany stopped counting. Why was Topher so obsessed with this silly bit of fiction. She spun to look at him and asked, “What are you talking about? No one’s going to believe any of this.” But she saw that everyone’s eyes were on her as if she had done a spectacular magic trick.
“You see?” Topher said jubilantly. “She has no idea she was possessed! When you stick someone, it happens instantly, and when you come out, no time for them has passed. The only way they might have a clue that anything funny happened, is if you’ve changed their surroundings, like say moved them to a different room, or if you’ve been naughty and maybe taken off a few articles of their clothing.” He mimed taking his shirt off.
“How is this better than drugs?” a dimwitted sophomore asked.
Topher addressed the question while he deftly reached behind Tiffany’s back and retrieved the sticker. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be in someone else’s skin? To feel taller, or stronger, or…” he placed the sticker onto Tiffany’s back again, and Topher vanished into her.
Tiffany’s hands went just under her breasts, and she pushed them up and locked eyes with several guys in the room. “...or to know what it’s like to touch the best boobs on campus?” As Topher glanced around, he saw that he had just convinced every man to stick around. “But ladies, you could know what it’s like to have an extra appendage between your legs. To feel what it’s like to run a hand up and down your own dick for a change. Or, you could walk a mile in another woman’s shoes and see the world through their eyes. The possibilities are endless, right up til the time runs out.”
Topher could tell that not everyone was on board, but many were already imagining what they could do, or who they wanted to try it out on first. He hurried his pitch along. “But maybe some of you are worried that if you were possessed, someone would have access to all the secrets inside your head. Well rest easy. No one will be able to access your mind, your memories, your passwords and pin numbers. The only thing a person will know about you is what they already knew when they possessed you.”
Topher knew he’d convinced even more of them now by more eyes darting around, looking for a person to stick. He gave the naysayers their only out. “Anyone who wants to go should leave right now. You can even take your stickers with you, but know this! They won’t work outside of this house. The magic is tied to this place. The sticker would become just an ordinary sticker. And if you try to leave in the body of another person, you’d get ejected from them immediately.”
Tiffany’s eyes had a few more seconds to gauge people’s responses, until Topher reappeared behind her. She didn’t understand why Topher had stopped talking mid sentence. Her sorority sisters were looking at her with a mix of nervousness, excitement, and possibly fear. She didn’t think a full 90 seconds had passed, but she was going to cut whatever this was short. “Look, Topher, if you don’t need me anymore, my sisters and I are going to leave.”
“Just 10 more seconds, Tiffany,” Topher said patiently. “Yes, anyone who wants to, should go now.” Six people began to shuffle forward to leave. Before they could get far, Topher added one more incentive. “But for anyone who wants to stay, there is an open bar.”
Only three people actually left, one of which was the frightened looking sorority sister. Tiffany thought that was weird. Nobody left when there was an open bar. Why hadn’t Topher led with that instead of talking about some possession sticker nonsense.
One person that was trying to leave was Kim. She was gritting her teeth and glaring furiously at her boyfriend. “Let’s go!” she commanded.
But Frank dug in his heels and said firmly. “I want to stay! If you want to go, go!”
His girlfriend’s eyes narrowed and both her hands went to her hips. “Why? So some skank can possess you and grab your dick? Or maybe they possess me and try and make out with you? Is that something you want? For some hussy or geek to take me over and make out with you?”
“Uh…” Was all the reply Frank could muster. Her words had sounded so exciting, so forbidden and alluring.
“Are you kidding me right now?” was all that Kim got out, before a girl behind her put a sticker on Kim’s back
Frank watched with wide eyes as it happened. He saw his girlfriend gasp, then squeal! She began to flex and wiggle her fingers. After that, she brought her hands to her boobs and started squeezing them shamelessly. “Not as large as mine,” Kim’s voice said appreciatively. “But definitely perkier.” Kim looked up into Frank’s eyes and smiled. “Sorry. It seemed like your girlfriend was about to rip you a new one. I hope you don’t mind.”
Not only did Frank not mind, but he was hornier than he had ever been. “Would you mind if I made out with my girlfriend right now? Probably won’t get a chance to later.”
The person in Kim appeared to consider it for a second, then shrugged her shoulders and giggled. “Sury, why not. It’s not my body.”
Their lips met and their tongues intertwined, but Frank wouldn’t get to experience all of it, because a sticker got placed on his back as well.
All around them, people were placing their stickers, and several people disappeared into someone else.
“Let the possession party commence!” Topher shouted. He bobbed and weaved his way quickly to the bar and began pouring drinks. “If any of you are feeling frisky, all the bedrooms are available to you!” He pressed a button on his phone and dance music flooded the room.
The most attractive people were the first to get possessed. Bailey would have fallen into that category, but when two people tried, Ryan saw them coming and intervened, pulling her out of the way. They escaped temporarily to a corner and watched as people started behaving strangely. Clothes began coming off and inhibitions were shed all around them. All combinations of people started making out passionately, guys and girls, guys and guys, and girls and girls, kissing, touching, groping. Two of the sorority girls had taken off their tops and bras and were just mashing their boobs together and giggling profusely.
“So, we’re not staying and being a part of this insanity, are we?” Ryan asked Bailey as they surveyed the debauchery around them. He wanted to leave. But he was also keenly aware that Bailey was almost cheek to cheek with him, and he didn’t mind that at all. He could smell her perfume, or lotion…whatever girls wear that made them smell good. He’d stay in this corner with just her for hours if she’d let him.
“How about I let you know in 90 seconds,” Bailey grinned as she snaked a hand behind Ryan’s back and placed her sticker.
To Ryan, it was as if no time had passed at all. Bailey’s face was grinning mischievously at him one second, and then the next, his face was meshed together with a girl’s. He could feel her in his mouth. It was hot and wet and warm. His dick was throbbing. He pulled back, and saw Bailey appear next to him out of the corner of his eye. He recognized the girl in front of him though, the one who had just been exploring his mouth with her tongue. It was the chubby girl that had been staring at him earlier.
She looked at him now with disappointment and hunger. “Why’d you stop?” Then she spotted Bailey.. “Oh, were you the one possessing him?”
“I don’t…” Ryan was at a loss. He looked at Bailey curiously, and she just gave him a thumbs up.
The girl smirked at Bailey and extended a hand towards her. “You’re a really good kisser. My name’s Tabitha.”
She took it and replied, “I’m Bailey, and this guy that can’t form complete sentences is my friend Ryan.”
“Just friends?” Tabitha asked firmly.
“Oh yeah, just friends,” Bailey confirmed, which felt like a knife through Ryan’s heart.
Tabitha looked at Ryan slyly. “I wonder if he’d kiss differently now?”
“Only one way to find out,” Bailey teased.
Tabitha wasted no time in pulling Ryan’s face back to hers. Again, Ryan felt her hot tongue as it probed his mouth. She was the one that ended the kiss this time. “Not as good, but he can learn.”
Ryan glanced at Bailey, and saw that she was happy for him. He couldn’t help but resent her pushing this Tabitha person into his path. Yes, he had gotten all worked up. But he was not happy. He didn’t want Tabitha. He wanted Bailey. He should just tell her that, out loud, instead of it broadcasting on loop in his mind. But he knew, deep down, he was too much of a coward. He tried to smile back at his friend, but his mouth crinkled and looked like had bitten into something sour.
Bailey thought he was joking, and made a face back at him. “Enjoy yourself, kids. I’m going to go get a drink.”
As she walked towards the bar, Tabitha hinted at Ryan, “I wouldn’t say no to a drink.”
Ryan had found his ability to brood wildly impared by a toplessTiffany who was making out with one of her sorority sisters.
Tabitha’s temper flared, but she gave Ryan another chance and loudly repeated, “Will you get me a drink?”
The question got into Ryan’s ears and bounced around as he saw the two gorgeous women kiss and fondle each other. He somehow managed to say, “I’m not thirsty.”
Tabitha looked angrily in Tiffany’s direction, and walked away from Ryan, who had just seemed to notice how many more topless women there were in the room.
Close by, Frank noticed his kiss with Kim had ended abruptly. One second he was kissing her luscious lips, and the next she had disappeared. Before he could even look around for her, time seemed to skip again, and he found himself in a room making out with a girl he had seen earlier, but didn’t know. Her hands were underneath his shirt, feeling the abs he worked so hard to keep. He heard the door shut behind him as whoever had possessed him left for a different target.
The woman in front of him was now trying to remove his shirt entirely. As he began to push her away, his girlfriend burst through the door at the worst possible time.
Kim charged like a bull and yelled, “Is this why you wanted to stay you two timing bastard!”
The girl on the bed with Frank yelped, rolled away, and ran out the door.
“Baby, this isn’t what it looks like!” Frank began.
“It looked like you were hooking up with that girl that just ran out of here!” Kim said as she took a swipe at Frank.
Frank dodged, and then continued to do so as Kim kept yelling and swinging away at him. Unbeknownst to her, a rotund looking guy had entered the room, and was sneaking up behind her. Frank saw. He saw it clearly. He could have said something, could have warned her, or shouted at the guy to stop, but he didn’t. A part of him, a very specific part actually, wanted his girlfriend to be possessed. He watched as a sticker was placed on her back, and the guy took control of his girlfriend’s hot body.
Instantly, Kim began to take her top and hurriedly struggled with her bra strap. As she did this, she said, “Ooh, I like this one. She’s real feisty. You’re welcome by the way, man. I think she had it in for you..”
The bra fell away and her perky breasts sprang into view. It wasn’t Frank’s first time seeing them, but it was different somehow. It wasn’t his girlfriend behind those eyes. It was someone else, controlling her, moving her, exposing her. For reasons he could not explain, it was the hottest thing he had ever experienced.
“Hey,” Frank said in almost a whisper. “That’s my girlfriend.”
The person inside Kim took this as a challenge, and Kim retorted, “Well sorry pal, but she’s mine for like, another 80 seconds or so.”
Frank looked her body up and down, then asked, “Could you take off her skirt too?”
Kim raised one eyebrow and jeered, “You want me to take off her panties while I’m at it?”
“Yes,” Frank said quietly. He was suddenly embarrassed as he realized he was asking this of another guy. A guy who would slide her underwear down her legs. Who would be able to see his girlfriend without a stitch on her.
Kim began to slowly nod like Frank’s request were totally sensible. “Alright. But first, introductions. The guy extended Kim’s hand while the other cupped a boob. “The name’s Steven.”
“Oh, uh, Frank.” He shook the offered hand. This part was weird, but it was worth it as he watched Kim’s eyes lock onto his, and she pulled down her skirt, then her panties.
“So, now what?” Kim’s voice asked casually. “You’re just going to stare at me? I mean, if that’s what gets you going.”
Frank thought it was so weird hearing Kim sound so easy going and accommodating. She’d been nothing but angry, bossy, and belligerent to him for months. Now she was talking to him without any of those tones or irritated expressions she typically used. And now that he wasn’t shaking her hand, she was groping both of her boobs.
“Can you like, make her strike sexy poses?” Frank stammered. Why was he so nervous?
Kim stopped mid squeeze. “I thought you said she was your girlfriend? Why can’t you just ask her to do that for you?”
“She is, I just, um, we’ve been going through a rough patch recently and…”
Kim put a hand on his shoulder. “Trouble in paradise. I get it. Say no more. I can pose her real provocative like, and you could take pictures. I wouldn’t mind that, especially if you’re willing to send them my way.” Kim fell back onto the bed and asked with feigned innocence, “Now how do you want me?”
Frank’s mouth went dry as he pulled out his phone to take pics.
Downstairs, Ryan was still gawking at the boobs all around him, but eventually remembered that Bailey was somewhere on the premises. Hadn’t she said the bar? He went to find her to see if she was ready to leave. But should he try possessing someone first? That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? He could possess Bailey, but…just because she had possessed him, didn’t mean she’d be cool with him possessing her. They should just leave. But first he had to find Bailey She was being a terrible wing woman.
He felt someone touch his arm and he whirled around. He swallowed hard, as a genuine goddess began speaking to him.
“So, can you like, protect me from all the creeps here?” Tiffany asked like a helpless maiden. “Everyone keeps possessing my friends and I. Maybe if I’m with you, they’ll leave me alone.”
“Oh, uh, I guess that’s okay.” Ryan managed meekly.
She sidled up next to him and began running her hand up and down his arm. “My hero. I’m glad you’re here to look after me.”
Ryan tried to respond, but he had registered that her breast was pressing into his arm. It was so big and soft. He had never imagined being this close to Tiffany’s boobs. His head had turned of its own accord and his eyes had zeroed in on her cleavage. He had a front row seat to the twins. He could die happy. Wait, she was saying something. He hadn’t been paying attention! “I’m sorry, what?”
Tiffany giggled. “I said you seemed hypnotized by my boobs.”
Ryan went red. He couldn’t look at Tiffany. In a panic, he began frantically looking around for Bailey to help him. “Oh. I’m sorry! They were right there and, they’re so perfect, and…”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you looking for if perfect boobs are right in front of you?”
“My friend, Bailey,” Ryan answered honestly, even as his airway seemed to be closing up as a defense mechanism not to say anything stupid until his friend could come and bail him out.
Tiffany pulled back and put her hands on her hips. “Ryan. A very attractive woman that you couldn’t stop ogling earlier is now right in front of you, and you’re looking for me! Get your head in the game!”
Ryan’s head snapped back to Tiffany. “What?”
And right about then he watched as Bailey was ejected from Tiffany’s body.
“Are you kidding me?” Ryan asked her. While Tiffany looked at the familiar freshman in front of her, Bailey moved quickly to retrieve the sticker.
“What is happening?” Tiffany blurted angrily. “I seem to keep blacking out and waking up with different people in front of me.” She looked down at her outfit. “At least my tits aren’t out this time!”
Bailey put the sticker back onto Tiffany’s killer bod and was back in the driver’s seat a moment later.
“Why are you inside her?” Ryan asked.
“Oh, so you can talk now that you know it’s me in here?” Tiffany/Bailey challenged.
“Well, yeah, I mean…”
“I’m trying to build your confidence Ryan. Tiffany is just a girl. Sure, she’s hot and all, but you can carry on a conversation with her the same as me if you just…Ryan…” She saw that she had lost him again to the depths of her temporary cleavage. “Oh for the love of…here! Get it out of your system.”
She grabbed the back of his head and plunged him face forward into her tits. She laughed as he struggled briefly, but then he began to slide his face around the big, bouncy orbs. Bailey noted that it felt good, maybe better than hers felt. But it had been awhile since someone’s face had been this close to her chest.
Ryan was in heaven, but with a limited supply of oxygen. He didn’t mind though. His face was between Tiffany’s boobs, with Bailey in charge. He’d still prefer Bailey’s body, but he could make do. He lifted an arm and pulled her top and bra down, just enough for a nipple to pop out.
“Hey, I’m not sure you should…” Tiffany’s voice protested, but stopped as Bailey felt Ryan’s tongue snake out and lick her borrowed tit. Damn! It was so sensitive. She was going to have to rub one out when this was all over. Or maybe she could still find a guy at this party to screw. As Ryan began to suck on the nipple, she reveled in the pleasure for several seconds, then pushed him back. “Okay, okay. I think your confidence has been built. Told you I’d be a great wing woman.”
“Can I…could you let me kiss her?” Ryan begged. “I uh, probably need a lot of practice in that area.”
Tiffany’s mouth grimaced slightly. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“You made me kiss a girl with my own mouth earlier!” Ryan countered. “And you just let me lick Tiffany’s tits!”
“That’s a very good point,” Tiffany laughed. “Well, I guess it’s okay.”
She puckered and leaned forward. Ryan felt his heart surge, and his lips met hers, and it was an amazing two seconds, and then he felt the slap.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Tiffany shrieked, and hurried off. She only made it five steps before a guy hopped into her and began feeling her up.
Bailey was standing in front of Ryan, and mouthed the word sorry.
“It’s fine,” Ryan said with a hand on his stinging cheek.
“Let me make it up to you. Is there anyone else you’d like me to possess?” Bailey asked helpfully.
Ryan thought that was such a loaded question. There were several beautiful women in this house. Bailey would probably let him touch any of them he wanted. But the person he really wanted to touch was right in front of him. He should just say that.
He tried. “Maybe…what if you…”
And then Tabitha walked behind Bailey and put a sticker on her back.
Upstairs, Frank was wishing 90 seconds were longer as Steven popped out of Kim for the fifth time, and promptly fell off the bed with a loud thunk. As his girlfriend’s face flared with anger, Frank reached towards her and pulled the sticker off her back. “Here!” he said, and shoved it towards Steven.
“Are you helping this gross pervert possess me?” Kim snarled. She looked down at herself. “And you still haven’t made him put my clothes on?”
As she was shouting, Steven placed the sticker on her back. It didn’t stick, but fell off.
“Put it on her man!” Frank urged.
“I did!” Steven said anxiously. “It’s not sticking anymore. That means the spell won’t work.” He looked towards the closed bedroom door as he planned a quick exit. He did not want to be in the middle of the impending lover’s quarrel.
“Worst. Boyfriend. Ever!” Kim shouted. “What were you letting him do to me?” She seemed to notice the phone in his hand for the first time and gasped. “Were you taking naked pictures of me? While this jerk was touching my body? I’m going to kill both of you as soon as I get my fucking clothes back on!”
“That’s my cue!” Steven said as he lumbered towards the door. “Good luck man.”
Steven was pretty out of shape, and Frank beat him by a mile to the door. He grabbed Steven by the shoulder and began whispering in his ear. “I never used my sticker. You can have it if you keep possessing her and, uh…let me…”
“What are you whispering about?” Kim shouted as she pulled her pants back on.
“Let me touch her,” Frank blurted out.
“I told you I’m not doing anything gay!”
“It’s not gay when you’re in a chick!”
Kim’s shirt was on, and she walked towards them with malicious resolve in her eyes.
“Negotiate later!” Steven squawked. “Possess now!”
Frank gave him the sticker he had kept in his pocket. A second later, his girlfriend’s hands were pummeling him about the head. He blocked what he could and tried to catch her arms.
“We are officially over!” she screamed. “And you should know I’ve been cheating on you with Mark for months. He’s got a huge dick! Much bigger than-”
But she stopped as Steven had moved behind her, and taken control.
Frank felt the fight go out of Kim. His hands were still on her. He let them slide down her arms. Her face lifted to his, and she looked him straight in the eyes and asked very hesitantly, “What kind of touching? Does this count?”
Frank stared at her soft lips. He wanted to kiss her so bad right now. Why? Why was she so much more alluring to him this way, with someone else inside of her?
“Hey dummy,” she said snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Clock’s ticking. What do you want me to do so I can keep your sticker?”
“I want to kiss you!” Frank demanded.
Kim’s body twisted from his grasp. “Gross. No way! I’m not kissing a guy. I didn’t have a problem posing your girl, especially after you said you’d send me the pics. But I’m not kissing you, or letting you touch me, or…”
“What if I eat her out?”
Kim/Steven paused. “I, uh…I guess that’s… Would I have to see your face?”
Frank shook his head. “Not if it’s between your legs.”
Steven was tempted. He’d only played with the boobs of the other girls’ he’d possessed, except for Kim. He’d managed to clumsily rub her pussy. It had felt okay, but he was pretty sure he was doing it wrong. “Have you eaten your girlfriend’s pussy before?”
“It’s been awhile, but yeah.”
“Did she like it?”
“Oh yeah.”
Steven knew the seconds were slipping away. He didn’t want to waste a whole possession round on the negotiations. “I guess, but no other touching.”
“How about this,” Frank said as he fished from his pocket Kim’s unused sticker that he had taken from her early in the chaos. “I give you this fresh sticker as well, and you let me kiss my girlfriend before I lick her pussy and make you cum.”
Two stickers! That was enough for Steven. “Deal! But I’m going to close my eyes and pretend you’re a chick. And try not to use a lot of tongue-”
But Frank’s mouth covered up any more words from Kim’s mouth. And his hands became needy and started extracting her from her clothes as quickly as he could.
Downstairs, Tabitha in Bailey’s body was grilling Ryan about his preferences. “How about that one?” she said as she pointed to a brunette taking shots at the bar.
“No. I don’t want you to possess her either?”
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to possess that Tiffany girl again? The incredibly hot one that everyone has been fighting over.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then who do you want? Because it wasn’t me! I could tell when you kissed me. But I can be literally anyone in this house you’d like to fuck right now. So who’s it going to be?”
“I, uh, no one, okay. Why do you even want to do this with me?”
A mischievous expression danced across Bailey’s face. “Because my kink is deflowering virgins. And I’d be willing to bet that you have never had a first time, have you?”
Ryan sighed and nodded once.
“Well then, virgin boy, I find myself with a terrific opportunity, and a quandary. You don’t seem to want to have sex in my body, but that’s okay, because I can be anyone in this house that you want me to be.” Tabitha watched him carefully. He refused to make eye contact with her, and only stared at the floor. Occasionally his eyes would drift up and he’d look her in the boobs.
A thought occurred to her, and she ventured a guess. “It’s this girl, isn’t it? The one I’m in right now. Bailey, right? The one that’s just your friend. She’s the one you really want.” Ryan said nothing but his eyes snapped right to hers, and they were filled with panic. That look told Tabitha all she needed to know, and she placed a hand gently onto Ryan’s cheek. “Well, she’s right here for the taking,” Bailey’s voice purred. “What do you say, virgin boy?”
“It’s not the same,” Ryan argued. “You’re not really her. And the spell will wear off any-”
And at that moment, it did, and Tabitha felt herself pushed out of Bailey’s body. She grabbed the sticker off of Bailey’s back, and almost put it back on. But she looked at Ryan curiously first, and seemed to reconsider her course of action. She whirled about suddenly and headed towards the bar where Topher was pouring a steady stream of drinks.
Bailey pulled her hand from Ryan’s face and asked curiously, “Did someone just possess me? What did they make me do?”
“Nothing,” Ryan said truthfully. “We just talked.”
“What? Lame!” Her gaze shifted to something behind him. “Oh my gosh! Look at that!” she exclaimed, pointing to a guy in the corner of the room. His sizeable dick was out and he was twirling it around and around. “He’s doing the helicopter twirl thing! I’d heard guys could do that, but I’ve never seen it til now.”
A girl popped out behind the guy just then and she walked away with a blush and a smile. She didn’t get far, as someone hopped into her, and her tits were out shortly thereafter.
“You good for a bit?” Bailey asked. “I’ve got to go try that out.”
“The helicopter thing? Be my guest,” Ryan said, doing his best to smile at her.
Bailey started to walk away, but noticed the cracks in her friend’s smile. “You okay?”
Ryan did his best to swallow his feelings. “I’m fine. Go and see what it’s like to twirl a dick. Can we leave after that?”
She sighed. “I guess, since it doesn’t seem like you’re having a good time.” And then she ran to sticker the guy.
A few seconds later, Ryan heard a guy’s voice yell from across the room, “Ryan, look! Look at my dick! I’m doing it!”
Ryan waved and gave Bailey another thin lipped smile, then walked to the bar. He might as well get a drink before he left. He was glad to see that Tabitha had already come and gone.
Upstairs, Steven was in paradise. He was getting eaten out 90 seconds at a time, which wasn’t ideal, but still felt amazing. He was fully prepared to use the last of the stickers possessing Kim if Frank kept licking that pussy.
It was even okay that Frank’s hand occasionally reached up and groped Kim’s boobs. It felt good to have another hand squeezing and pinching them. Steven arched Kim’s back as another wave of pleasure washed over him, as Frank hit that very special spot. “Oh damn! This feels so great! A pussy is so much better than a dick!”
Frank came up for air to ask, “How about you let me fuck her?”
Kim’s hand pushed Frank’s head back down. “Stop talking crazy and keep licking me.”
Frank obeyed for another few seconds, then stuck two fingers inside her sopping wet hole.
Kim/Steven yelped. “Ooh that feels weird, but I like it!”
“My dick goes in even deeper than that,” Frank pointed out. He watched as Kim/Steven seemed to consider this.
But before he could make up his mind, Steven popped out of Kim from behind her, which meant Kim was on top of him. Steven pushed her off quickly, and Frank handed him a sticker, which Steven hurriedly slapped onto Kim’s back. It slid off. “This one’s out, Frank.”
“Okay, here’s the other one.”
Frank saw Kim’s expression during the exchange. She still looked mad, but also like she was trying to work out a puzzle. “What have you been doing to my pussy?” she moaned. “It’s on fire.”
“Uh, just attacking it with my tongue.”
“You haven’t done that in forever,” she growled. She noticed Steven and shot him a glare, but then continued talking to Frank. “My pussy feels so tingly babe. Why don’t you ask this guy to leave so you can get back to it.”
Frank had to wonder why she would suddenly be cool with this, especially after yelling consistently at him between possessions.
“Oh,” Kim cooed. “I know what you’re thinking. This doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. I’m just so turned on right now and…” Kim froze for a second as Steven lunged for her, then, “I’m back inside her again, Frank. You should really listen to what the lady said and get that pussy.”
Not one to look a gift horse in the pussy, Frank did just that, at least for next several seconds. And then he stopped to talk again, and Kim sounded like her old self as she cut him off before he could say a word, “Stop starting and stopping. You keep getting me right to the edge and then back off at the worst time.”
“How about I go ask Topher for more stickers?” Frank propositioned. “I’ll pay him whatever he wants. And you let me fuck Kim with you inside of her, and then you keep the stickers.”
Steven mulled it over quickly, which wasn’t easy as he was so horny and couldn’t really think straight, pun intended. “Go get the stickers, and maybe I’ll give you a handjob.”
Frank tore from the room, a man on a mission.
Ryan was on his second drink at the bar when Frank bumped into him. “Hey man, watch…” Ryan stopped himself from saying anything else when he saw Frank’s additional height and muscles.
“Sorry bro,” Frank said with a brief glance at Ryan. “Hey Topher!”
“Having a good time?” Topher asked with a wink.
Frank glanced at Ryan and a woman at the bar. “I need to have a private conversation real quick with my friend here.”
“Oh, so we’re friends now,” Topher smiled. “I thought I was just your dealer.” He waved everyone else away.
Ryan was slow to leave, and heard Frank say, “No man, we’re best friends. Listen, you got any more stickers? I’m willing to pay.”
Topher nodded like he had expected this. “You’re not the first person to ask. You know the drill. Only the first taste was free.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred bucks.”
Ryan almost spit out his drink as he began to walk away. Two hundred bucks for 90 seconds? Well, 90 seconds times ten. That still seemed like a huge rip off.
He heard Frank read his mind. “That’s way too much money!”
“Well like I said, you only got a taste. What I’m selling will have more of a kick.”
Ryan was out of ear shot after that. He didn’t have money like that to blow anyway. He looked around for Bailey. He really wanted to leave now. He checked where helicopter guy had been. He was still there, but he wasn’t twirling his dick anymore. He was stroking it though, and a few other girls were watching him do it with wide, hungry eyes.
Ryan observed long enough to see a different girl hop out of him. Then another girl, one that had been eagerly waiting, possessed him a second later. Ryan shook his head. That well hung guy had a line of girls waiting to possess him like he was some kind of ride. But where was Bailey? He was beginning to get worried when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his friend’s pretty face.
“Sorry,” Bailey said quickly when she saw his concern fade. “Didn’t mean to worry you. Just had to use the bathroom.”
“It’s okay. You ready to go?”
“Well, what if-”
A person slapped her hard on the back, interrupting her. A guy had just put a sticker on her back. It stuck to her, but the guy didn’t disappear into her. He pulled it off and cursed, then said, “Oh man. I think I’m out!”
As he turned and walked away, he got possessed a second later by a girl who ran up behind and stuck him. His body quickly walked over to where Tiffany was making out with another guy, and began grinding his dick against her hip.
“If people are running out, that means the party will be winding down soon, I guess,” Ryan noted. “Sorry you didn’t get laid, Bailey. At least you got to swing a dick around. How did that feel?”
“What?” Bailey asked, then added quickly. “Oh, uh, good I guess. Hey, come with me.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the foyer, but instead of going towards the door, she led him up the flight of stairs.
“Where are we going?” Ryan asked.
“Just somewhere with a bit of privacy,” was all she said.
The first two rooms they tried were occupied. One contained a guy and a girl going at it like it was their job. The second one had the makings of a mini orgy. Ryan had to pull Bailey away from that one because she couldn’t stop staring.
When they got into the third room, Bailey locked the door behind them, then looked intently at Ryan.
“What?” Ryan wondered aloud. “Do I got something on my face? Why’d you bring us up here?”
“Is there something you want to say to me?” Bailey asked. She walked towards him slowly with a look of concern.
“What?” Ryan asked apprehensively. Internally, his mind was racing, wondering if she knew about his feelings for her. If she asked him directly, he’d deny, deny, deny.
“Is the reason you didn’t pursue any of the other girls here…” she got shy all of a sudden. “Is it because maybe…you like me?”
“Yes!” Ryan practically shouted. So much for denial. “I mean…I know we’re friends. And I don’t want to ruin that. Our friendship has been the best thing that happened to me since I got here and-”
Bailey raced towards him and kissed him. Her momentum pushed him back, and he fell into a sitting position on the bed. Bailey crawled onto his lap, and peppered his lips and face with her mouth.
“Oh my gosh!” he gasped. “Is this really happening? Is this real?”
In a quick movement, she yanked her shirt off and watched as his eyes locked onto her bra. “What do you think?” She seemed to take a moment to admire her cleavage before taking one of his hands and placing it over her bra. She helped him squeeze her. “Do these feel real, Ryan?”
Ryan was so happy, and so turned on, but there was this thought, a stupid thought, one that buzzed about and dared to try and interrupt his happiness. “Uh, is it really you in there, Bailey?”
With mild shock, she asked, “What? You think someone’s possessing me right now and that’s why I’m coming on to you?”
“Well, yes. I mean, this was a possession party after all.”
Bailey nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, you’re right. But it has been longer than 90 seconds since I started talking to you downstairs, hasn’t it?”
“I think so.”
“Well if you’re not sure, why don’t you count down from 90. You can watch me closely while I remove this bra.” With a soft click, she unfastened the clasp, and let the bra slowly fall away from her boobs. Ryan was watching very closely indeed as she added. “If you see anyone pop out of me, you’ll know I was possessed. But if not, you can decide what you’d like to do with me next.”
In a room close by, Kim became aware for what seemed like the twentieth time that she was sitting on a bed, still completely naked. That wasn’t new to her. Nor was the fact that her fingers were on her pussy or a hand was squeezing her boobs. That had been how she had discovered herself a few times now. Also not new, was how her body felt. It wanted sex, it wanted to be penetrated, it wanted to climax! She hadn’t been this worked up in a while But none of that mattered because she knew what would happen if she didn’t move quickly. The pervert behind her would put the sticker onto her back and take over her body. And then she’d find herself in a slightly different position with a finger on her clit and a hand on her boob in another 90 seconds.
All of this flashed across her mind in the span of a few moments, which normally would have been too long, but behind her, Steven had fumbled the sticker. He picked it up off the bed and tried to place it again, but Kim had already sprung to her feet, whirled around, and faced him.
The door was just past him. She could do this. She’d have to run into the rest of the house naked. And would have to dodge anyone else with a sticker. But she’d just have to make it out of the house. That’s what Topher had said. The magic only worked inside the house. And then she’d get even with Frank, and Topher too. But first she’d flatten this overweight geek who was standing in her way. She faked like she was about to dart left, then faked again to the right. The guy’s response time was slow. She could get by this guy with no problem.
“I uh, I can’t let you leave before Frank gets back,” Steven stammered.
“Yeah, and why’s that?” Kim shot back.
“Because he wants to, uh…” Steven couldn’t finish and went red.
Kim spit out the rest in a fury. “He wants to fuck me! While you’re in my body! Is that it?”
“No, I wouldn’t let…I’m not gay!”
Kim laughed in spite of herself. “Oh, I’m sorry! I get confused sometimes. You’re not gay. You just want my boyfriend’s dick inside of you, while you’re in me. Now it all makes sense.”
“It’s not the same!” Steven argued, trying to stall for time. “He just really knows how to get you off! But he’ll only do it for your body. That’s why he’s coming back. He can’t get enough of that,” he said as he motioned to her.
Kim wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She believed their relationship had been nearing its end, but…he still wanted her. She had walked all over him for months, and he still only had eyes for her. He could be banging any other girl while she had been possessed, but he wanted her body. But then she gave it more thought. He wanted her body, but not her mind, otherwise Frank wouldn’t need this pathetic excuse of a man to possess her. And Frank had been helping him do it!
“Well, he’s going to have to learn to live without me!” Kim declared, and then made her move. She had been right. The guy’s weight did make him slower. She was past him in a flash and her hand was on the door before he was fully off the bed. She yanked it open, and ran right into Frank.
“Steven, I thought I told you to stay…” Frank trailed off as he saw a sheepish Steven with one foot still on the bed. “Oh, I see.”
Kim whirled around so her back wasn’t exposed to Steven, so he couldn’t use the sticker on her. Her bare butt backed into Steven, and she felt his dick push against her. She understood what it was to be between a rock and a hard place.
With her eyes on Steven, she pleaded with Frank, “Babe, you don’t need him. If you want to fuck me, I’ll let you. I didn’t know you still loved me and wanted me this much. If you make this creep go away, we can try again.”
Frank put his beefy hands on her shoulders and spun her around. She was scared for a second, until she heard Frank’s booming voice say, “Drop the sticker, Steven.”
“But…” Steven protested as he shambled forward.
Kim smirked. She couldn’t believe Frank was buying her “try again” speech. She looked up at him and said, “My hero.” Then gave him a peck on the cheek.
She was so confident that her deception was working, that she didn’t notice Frank’s hand reach into his back pocket and pull out a blue sticker, and extend it towards Steven. Steven wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, but then he made eye contact with Frank, who winked at him. Steven closed the gap quickly, grabbed the sticker from Frank’s hand, and began to remove the plastic tab.
Kim realized that something was going on, but when she tried to turn around and see, Frank’s hands clamped onto her shoulders, pinning her to the spot. “What’s going on, Frank?” she asked sharply.
Frank gave her a knowing smile. “Everything with you has been hard lately, and you just suddenly have a change of heart about us? I’m sure that’s not the only time you’ve been fake with me.”
She began to squirm in his grip as she shouted in his face, “You’re right about that you pathetic waste of space! I will make you regret this! First chance I get I’m going to cut off your-”
And then the fight left her. She stopped squirming, and her face broke out into a grin. “I’m back in.”
Frank couldn’t help himself. He kissed her.
Steven felt a tongue enter Kim’s smaller mouth. Her feminine body responded automatically to the sensation of Frank’s body so close to hers. Steven’s mind rejected it a moment later, and he pushed Frank off and began spitting. “No, ew! Gross, man! Why’d you do that?”
Frank ushered them both in so he could lock the door. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. This is such a huge turn on for me.”
“I’m happy you’ve found your kink, but I am not comfortable kissing you.”
“But it’s okay if I eat her out?”
“Obviously,” Kim/Steven said as she fell backwards onto the bed and spread her legs wide.
“And you’ll let me feel her tits?”
“Yeah, yeah, all that feels good. Now hurry up so we don’t waste this sticker.”
Frank opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and lowered his mouth to Kim’s pussy. It wasn’t long before Kim’s moans filled the room. Frank started groping her tits with one hand, then both. She grabbed his hands and helped him squeeze harder. She had always liked it a little rough.
Steven found it hard to think about anything else but the waves of pleasure that kept rippling through Kim’s body. If he had been aware of the passage of time, he might have realized that more than 90 seconds had come and gone, a few times actually. He felt a finger go inside of Kim’s pussy again, then two, all while Frank’s tongue did its thing. Steven felt Kim’s pelvis begin to instinctively writhe and buck against Frank’s face, and a tsunami of ecstasy washed over him from head to toe. It was better than any orgasm Steven had ever felt in a male body, and lasted much longer as well.
Frank stopped his tongue lashing and withdrew his fingers. He looked at Kim, who lay sweaty and spent before him. His dick was throbbing. It needed release. Her legs had closed around Frank’s head as she came, but he steadily began to spread them wide again.
A thought finally occurred to Steven. “Hey, how long’s it been? Shouldn’t I have been kicked out of her by now?”
“If it had been the normal sticker, yeah. But Topher gave me one that lasts a bit longer.”
Kim’s face became worried. “How much longer?”
“Twenty four hours,” Frank said, and placed a finger directly onto Kim’s clit.
Kim moaned and her body squirmed. “But, that’s too long,” Kim/Steven whined. “I don’t want to be a girl for a whole day.”
“I’ll try to help it pass quickly for you,” Frank smiled as he slipped a finger back inside. “Or I could stop right now and we could go our separate ways.”
“No!” she pleaded. “Keep doing that! I’m still so horny! I could totally go again.”
That was the other kick Topher had promised. Not only would this version of the spell last longer, but it included an aphrodisiac spell. The possessed person’s body would have a higher libido the whole time. Still, Frank acted surprised by Steven’s words, even as he continued to tease Kim’s clit. “Oh? Well, I wish I could help you, but…” Frank stopped touching Kim entirely, leaving a very frustrated Steven.
Steven wasn’t dumb. He knew where this was heading. Kim’s body didn’t seem to care though. Steven made himself one final compromise. “I’ll shut my eyes, okay? But no kissing. And you can just…do what you need to do, but keep getting me off.”
“That’s my Kimmy,” Frank said. He watched Kim roll her eyes at that, before shutting them tightly. He pulled off his pants and boxers, and then stared at her sopping pussy for a few seconds.
Steven still didn’t look as Frank rubbed the tip of his dick in her juices, getting it nice and wet for entry. But Steven couldn’t stop himself from letting out a delighted squeal in Kim’s voice as Frank’s dick went in. Kim’s pussy was being filled slowly, inch by glorious inch. Kim’s eyes opened as Frank began to pump in and out of her. Steven was letting a guy fuck him. That had not been on his to do list today.
He looked down and was calmed by the sight of Kim’s tits, bobbing up and down as Frank pounding Kim’s pussy. Steven knew that Frank had clearly gotten more than a little pent up. It was okay. As long as he didn’t try to kiss him again. It was okay that he was inside this body. It felt good. So good. Impossibly good. He could do this. He could stay a girl for twenty four hours. He wondered how many orgasms a girl could have in that time. He couldn’t wait to find out.
Back in Ryan and Bailey’s room, things had moved a little more slowly. At Bailey’s insistence, Ryan had begun counting to 90, very slowly. Bailey had turned his count into a silent striptease, removing her shorts and underwear. Ryan only made it to 32, and then stood up.
“Can I touch you?” he asked in a nervous tremor.
She gave him a bigger smile than he had ever seen. “Of course. You can touch me anywhere you want.”
And that’s what he did. She giggled as he began to run nervous, shaky hands over her. He felt her soft, smooth skin that seemed to go on forever. His hands went up and down her arms, then he crouched and moved them down the side of her legs. This put her pussy directly in front of him. He saw the patch of dark blonde hair. He moved his hands to the back side of her legs, and lifted them up. When his fingers touched the underside of her butt cheeks, he hesitated.
Bailey was breathing hard as she encouraged him, “Keep going. Feel all of me. I want you to.”
He kept staring at her pussy as his fingers continued their journey. Her cheeks lifted at his touch, and then he was gripping them in his hands. Her butt was small and tight. He spread her cheeks apart, then pushed them together. He saw a trickle of moisture run down her inner thigh.
“Are you…” he started to ask. Then he brought a hand around and touched the clear fluid.
“Yeah, that’s how wet I am right now for you,” Bailey said with knees that began to shake. “I love how you’re touching me. I love how much you want me. I think I’ll need to sit down soon.”
“Of course, sure, yeah,” Ryan said. He stood and led her to the bed. They sat down, and he put a hand on her boob. And then he kissed her. They stayed like this for a minute or two. Ryan had no way of knowing because for him, time was at a standstill. Eventually, some instinct kicked in, and he began to push her down onto the bed.
“Wait,” she said.
Ryan froze, terrified that he had done something wrong.
“It’s your turn to get naked,” she whispered softly.
He sighed, and clumsily shucked off his clothes, almost falling over in the process. Then he was beside her, pushing her down. She spread her legs, letting his dick rub near her pussy entrance. He tried to push into her. His aim was off.
Bailey giggled, then reached down and took his dick into her hand. “Let me help you out there, virgin boy.”
That phrase struck Ryan hard, as Bailey’s hand guided him into her. His face mirrored a mixture of horror and delight as he felt himself slide into her depths. “Oh!” he gasped at the overwhelming sensation of being inside his crush.
“Try not to cum too fast!” she said quickly. “Think of something else if you need to.”
Ryan was already thinking of something else. The phrase virgin boy. That’s what Tabitha had called him. Had Bailey overheard her say that? She couldn’t have. Tabitha had been inside of Bailey at the time, and Bailey wouldn’t have remembered.
“That’s it,” Bailey cooed underneath him. “You’re nice and hard inside of me.This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Had Ryan ever told Bailey that he was a virgin? He didn’t think so. She might have assumed, but…
She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper. “You have to start a rhythm. You need to go in and out, not all the way out mind you, just to the tip. And then push back into me. Slowly at first, but then you can speed up, and you want to try and go deeper. Good. Just keep doing that.”
Ryan found himself following her instruction, even as his mind wondered. She began to moan loudly underneath him. It was incredibly sexy, and Ryan did not doubt that he would have exploded in her several times already if his mind weren’t otherwise preoccupied.
“Put a hand on my tit and pinch it!” she ordered.
Ryan obliged. She leaned forward for a kiss, and he gave it. It seemed hollow though. His dick didn’t care, and as it surged towards the finish line, he asked, “So, I guess thanks for being a great wing woman.”
Her expression became confused. “What? Wing woman? Sure, whatever. Just give it to me harder!”
He did give it to her harder. He was pumping furiously now as he kept to his line of questioning. “You called yourself that earlier, a couple of times actually. You said you’d be my wing woman and help get me laid.”
Her hips were bucking under him, trying to get him deeper every time. “How am I doing so far?” she cried out.
He could feel his balls tighten, and his dick begin to pulse inside her. Even so, he looked her in the eyes, and said the obvious. “You’re not her, are you?”
The hungry smile she gave him was one he had seen before, on Tabitha. She bucked harder and faster against him as she saw he was right on the edge. Then she gave him an extra show by playing with her tits. “That’s not going to stop you from cumming inside of her, is it?”
To Ryan’s regret, it did not stop him in the slightest.
The end?
“Why are we here again?” Ryan asked as they approached the entryway of the large house.
Bailey rolled her blue eyes. “Because we’re freshman in college. We’re here to make friends, experience new things, and party. We were lucky to get this invite, so don’t be a wet blanket or next time I won’t bring you along.”
Ryan’s whole tall, lanky frame slouched in defiance. Parties, any kind of party, was not his scene. He liked his socializing done one or two people at a time. The only person who could have talked him into coming was Bailey. But he still wanted it known by his words and posture that he was going reluctantly. “I didn’t get the invite. I’m just your plus one, and I said I’d rather stay in my dorm room.”
“And I ignored what you said and chose to drag you here anyway,” the bubbly blonde chided as she playfully slapped his arm. “It’ll be good for you. You’re always talking about how terrible you are with women. I’ll help you get the confidence boost you need to get laid!”
Ryan stopped walking as his brain didn’t have enough processing power to understand that last sentence and walk at the same time. For the briefest of moments, he thought that Bailey had offered to have sex with him at the party. He would have been more than okay with that.
The day they had met at orientation had been the day his crush on her began. He had been so awkward when introducing himself to her during an icebreaker. Bailey, however, had accepted him just as he was, and then placed him firmly in the friend zone. But every once in a while, he misinterpreted something she said as a possibility for something more. He knew he was probably wrong though, because he always struggled to communicate with the opposite sex.
Still, Ryan was eternally grateful to have met her. Bailey had helped Ryan come out of his shell bit by bit over the last couple of months. They helped each other in their classes when they could. Most of all, Bailey helped Ryan overcome a strong bout of homesickness he felt at the end of the first month. She was a good friend, possibly the only real one he had made on campus. And he was pretty sure he was in love with her. He kept hoping she would make a move on him, but she never did, and he didn’t want to ruin everything by asking for something more.
But she had mentioned getting laid. Him laid to be specific. And his ears had perked up and wondered if she was coming onto him at last. But as his eyes met hers, and he watched her head tilt in confusion, he realized he had mostly likely misread the situation.
Bailey cut back in. “Yes, laid. I thought boys thought about sex all the time. I can be your wingman. Or wing woman as it were.”
“Wing woman, sure. It won't matter. I’m terrible at-”
“Talking to girls, I know!” Bailey finished for him as she rang the doorbell.
“Except for you,” Ryan pointed out.
Bailey smirked. “Because we’re such good friends!”
Ryan almost said something. He almost let it slip that he didn’t want to be her friend. He wanted to be her lover. But that would have been horribly cheesy and pathetic. And she would have laughed at him. And she’d tell him that she didn’t see him that way. And their friendship would effectively be over. So instead of saying anything, he turned to leave. But Bailey caught his shoulder.
“Hey, you can do this,” she said in all seriousness as she spun him back around. “I’m with you all the way.” She booped his nose and winked at him. “Until you go all the way that is.”
Ryan was about to point out that most likely meant she’d be with him forever, when the door swung wide open to reveal Topher Steward. Everyone knew Topher. He was the guy on campus that could get you things. The kind of things that you needed a fake id to get. Or the kinds of things that helped you ace a test without studying. Or the kinds of mind altering substances that police would absolutely arrest you for having in your possession. And he was always on the lookout for the next thing to sell to his fellow students.
“Oh good, you’re here, you’re here,” Topher said with open arms and a wide grin. As he pulled them inside a large foyer, he spoke loud enough for anyone in the house to hear. “I was worried we were going to have to start the party without you.”
Ryan had a brief second to take in the place as they were shuffled into the lavishly decorated interior. It seemed even bigger on the inside. There were stairs that led left and right to a second story. To his right, there seemed to be a study, and beyond that an entryway to what was probably a kitchen.
Topher was leading them to a large room to their left that had a pool table near the middle, shelves of books along one side of the wall, and a fully stocked bar in the corner. There were already thirty or forty people huddled in groups around the room, talking amongst themselves. Ryan thought he knew a few people from around campus. But there was one person he absolutely recognized, because she was probably the hottest girl in a thousand mile radius. Ryan only knew her name was Tiffany, along with the fact that she was a senior with dark hair, an hourglass figure that could stop traffic, and a gorgeous face.
This vision of loveliness stood watching as Topher ushered in what looked to be two naive freshmen, a guy and a girl, into the room. The guy had spotted her, and was now gawking at her tits as if they were celebrities that might give him an autograph. She was used to men staring at her, but they usually did it with a little more subtlety. She shot him a look and a gesture that said my eyes are up here, then made a motion to Topher to start whatever he had planned. She had other places to be. She wouldn’t be here if Topher hadn’t paid her, and he said he’d only need her services for a 90 second demonstration.
On top of that, he’d also paid for her to recruit several of her more attractive sorority sisters who had come as well. That hadn’t been hard. She ran their sorority, so with a snap of her fingers, they would go to whatever party she told them to. But she wasn’t being paid to be lusted after by a lame freshman. She tapped her foot and looked around again for anyone worthy of her company. It took more than a cursory glance, but she finally saw Frank, one of the few good athletes on campus. As usual, he had brought his girlfriend, Kim. That was a pity. She’d totally jump Frank’s bones if Kim didn’t have him on a two foot leash all the time.
Frank was wondering why they were all just standing around. Usually when he came to one of Topher’s parties, the party was raging by the time he walked through the door. So far this was a very quiet and subdued affair, definitely not his preferred scene. He liked his parties loud, because that way he couldn’t hear his girlfriend’s incessant complaining or trying to draw him into a fight. He would have already cut and run if Topher hadn’t told him that it’d be worth his while. So he tried to wait patiently, and hoped his girlfriend Kim would do the same. But by her posture and the expression of discontent on her face, she was going to do no such thing.
“Babe, look at who’s here,” she said derisively. “I’d talk with, maybe like, two or three of these people. And there’s no music, and nobody’s drinking! We’re leaving.”
He slid his hands around Kim’s tight waist and pulled her towards him to hopefully calm her foul modd. She felt so soft against him, and she smelled terrific. “Babe, give Topher a chance. He said-”
Kim pushed his arms down and stepped out of his embrace. “I don’t care what Topher said!” she hissed louder than she knew Frank would like. “I said we’re leaving.”
Frank sighed. It was always her way or the highway, and had been for the last year they’d been dating. It hadn’t been like that in the beginning. She had been a little feisty, and a lot bossy, but she had always accepted his hands on her body. Now most times he tried to be affectionate, especially in public, she’d push him away. With a year and a half to go till graduation, it seemed she was just keeping him around for his status as a jock. That might be fair, because sometimes he wondered if he was keeping her around for her body. The problem was, he got to touch it less and less these days.
As Frank and Kim stepped out to make their exit, Topher called out, "If you go now, you won't get to see what these do."
Every eye locked onto a folded manilla envelope that Topher extracted from his back pocket. He reached inside and pulled out a two by two inch square of glossy white paper.
"Is that some new drug?" Frank asked.
Topher smiled and began to pass them out, one to each person. "Better. I'll explain what it does after everyone gets one. Don't break the seal on the adhesive to them before I tell you so we can all enjoy the ride together."
Everyone's curiosity peaked and the room began to chatter. One by one, they studied the innocuous looking white square that Topher placed in their palm. As people poked and prodded it and held it up to the light, it looked like just an ordinary sticker. How could it be better than recreational drugs?
Ryan was examining his when Bailey nudged him. "We haven't been here five minutes and someone is already checking you out."
"What?" Ryan asked as he doubtfully scanned the room. "Where?"
"Play it cool, Romeo," Bailey said from the side of her mouth. "3 o'clock."
"I asked where," Ryan began, but stopped talking as Bailey's foot came firmly down on his. He gave a quiet yelp, then followed where Bailey's finger pointed. A cute, chubby girl was staring at him from the opposite side of the room. Well, he didn’t notice that she was staring at first. He noticed her boobs first. They were huge. And when his eyes finally found her face, yes, she was staring at him. He recognized her from his Chemistry class. She gave him a little wave, then looked down at her chest, then arched it forward, as if giving Ryan permission to look all he wanted.
"Damn," Bailey whispered. "It might be easier to get you laid than I thought.”
He looked away from the girl as he remembered Bailey’s words earlier. His mood became sulky. “She’s not my type.”
“No giant boobs, check!” Bailey said.
Ryan noticed that someone else was staring in their direction. An overweight, nerdy looking guy was looking intently at Bailey. Ryan pointed him out to her. “It looks like it might be easy for you too!”
“Ugh, that’s Steven!” Bailey muttered. “No thank you!”
“You know him?”
“He keeps hitting on me in my introductory science class. And not just me, I’ve seen him hit on other girls in class as well. He’s real suave about it too,” she said sarcastically. “His signature move is to stare relentlessly like a creep. But he also likes to brush up against anyone of the female persuasion when getting to his seat in class. I’m pretty sure he would hump anything with a pulse, which he might not have if he ever brushes up against me the way I’ve seen him do other girls.”
“I think you should give him a chance.”
Ryan unsuccessfully dodged the hand to the back of his head.
As Topher handed out the last piece, the room grew quiet with anticipation. With a flourish, Topher held up the last square and said, “Thank you all for accepting the invite to my party. It will be unlike any of my other social gatherings, because of this.” He shook the small square in his hand.
“Is it a new drug?” someone asked excitedly.
“It is not,” Topher grinned wildly. As disappointed murmuring broke out in the room, Topher raised both his hands to quiet them down. “It’s something better! And all of you get to be the first to experience it. Tiffany,” he called as he motioned for her to come forward, “now is when I require your assistance.”
Tiffany did as he asked, but with some hesitancy. She liked making money, but hated surprises, or being made to look foolish, and this had the potential for both. But he had paid her five hundred dollars for 90 seconds, so she dutifully strutted over to him and struck a haughty pose with a fake smile. The clock was ticking as of now, and she began to count.
With Tiffany beside him, Topher continued. “What you have in your hand is a sticker that has been infused with a possession spell. Yes, I said spell, as in magic spell. And with it, you’ll be able to possess a person’s body for about 90 seconds.”
Tiffany did her best not to laugh out loud at him. Had he gone mad, or was he under the influence of some powerful pharmaceuticals? Either way, this would be over in 77 seconds.
Kim was already pulling on Frank’s arm, a sign that she wanted to go. His eyes met hers, and she said loudly, “You brought me here for this. This is a joke, you idiot. Topher’s messing with us. It’s just an excuse for us all to act crazy and pretend someone is possessing us. It’s stupid. We’re not kids.”
Before anyone had a chance to exit, Topher cooly said, “I know none of you will believe me so…” Topher peeled off the plastic tab from the sticker and pressed the adhesive gently to the small of Tiffany’s back. “...so I’ll show you.”
Everyone gasped as Topher’s body phased into Tiffany, who seemed completely unaware that anything was happening to her. Her body only twitched slightly, and then relaxed.
Tiffany began to speak as if nothing were out of the ordinary as she raised a hand and stroked her soft face. “As you can see, I’m not lying. I’m not making it up. The possession spell works. I am now in control of Tiffany’s body.” Her hand slid from her face, landed on her breast, and continued its descent down her voluptuous body. “Every single bit of it.”
It took almost half a minute for Topher to quiet everyone down again. When they did, he kept on explaining with Tiffany’s voice, but his salesmanship. “I can see a lot of you have questions, and I’ll give you the basics. But if you want more than that, you’ll just have to experience it for yourself. For starters, it is reusable as long as the sticker’s adhesive holds, which in testing is around ten to fifteen times. To use it, you must stick it to a person’s back. It doesn’t matter if it’s their skin or their clothes, just has to be near the center of their back for the spell to kick in. And that’s it. You don’t have to say or chant anything, because the spell has been preprogrammed into the sticker. And-”
Tiffany’s body jerked again, and Topher’s body rematerialized right behind her. Tiffany was at a count of 24 seconds. He’d better hurry up with whatever he was trying to sell.
Topher picked back up his pitch in his body. “Well, once the time is up, you pop back out with the person you possessed none the wiser, thinking that nothing has happened at all. And then you can go again by pressing the sticker on their back if you want. Or you can pick someone else. Or you can let someone possess you, or-”
Tiffany stopped counting. Why was Topher so obsessed with this silly bit of fiction. She spun to look at him and asked, “What are you talking about? No one’s going to believe any of this.” But she saw that everyone’s eyes were on her as if she had done a spectacular magic trick.
“You see?” Topher said jubilantly. “She has no idea she was possessed! When you stick someone, it happens instantly, and when you come out, no time for them has passed. The only way they might have a clue that anything funny happened, is if you’ve changed their surroundings, like say moved them to a different room, or if you’ve been naughty and maybe taken off a few articles of their clothing.” He mimed taking his shirt off.
“How is this better than drugs?” a dimwitted sophomore asked.
Topher addressed the question while he deftly reached behind Tiffany’s back and retrieved the sticker. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be in someone else’s skin? To feel taller, or stronger, or…” he placed the sticker onto Tiffany’s back again, and Topher vanished into her.
Tiffany’s hands went just under her breasts, and she pushed them up and locked eyes with several guys in the room. “...or to know what it’s like to touch the best boobs on campus?” As Topher glanced around, he saw that he had just convinced every man to stick around. “But ladies, you could know what it’s like to have an extra appendage between your legs. To feel what it’s like to run a hand up and down your own dick for a change. Or, you could walk a mile in another woman’s shoes and see the world through their eyes. The possibilities are endless, right up til the time runs out.”
Topher could tell that not everyone was on board, but many were already imagining what they could do, or who they wanted to try it out on first. He hurried his pitch along. “But maybe some of you are worried that if you were possessed, someone would have access to all the secrets inside your head. Well rest easy. No one will be able to access your mind, your memories, your passwords and pin numbers. The only thing a person will know about you is what they already knew when they possessed you.”
Topher knew he’d convinced even more of them now by more eyes darting around, looking for a person to stick. He gave the naysayers their only out. “Anyone who wants to go should leave right now. You can even take your stickers with you, but know this! They won’t work outside of this house. The magic is tied to this place. The sticker would become just an ordinary sticker. And if you try to leave in the body of another person, you’d get ejected from them immediately.”
Tiffany’s eyes had a few more seconds to gauge people’s responses, until Topher reappeared behind her. She didn’t understand why Topher had stopped talking mid sentence. Her sorority sisters were looking at her with a mix of nervousness, excitement, and possibly fear. She didn’t think a full 90 seconds had passed, but she was going to cut whatever this was short. “Look, Topher, if you don’t need me anymore, my sisters and I are going to leave.”
“Just 10 more seconds, Tiffany,” Topher said patiently. “Yes, anyone who wants to, should go now.” Six people began to shuffle forward to leave. Before they could get far, Topher added one more incentive. “But for anyone who wants to stay, there is an open bar.”
Only three people actually left, one of which was the frightened looking sorority sister. Tiffany thought that was weird. Nobody left when there was an open bar. Why hadn’t Topher led with that instead of talking about some possession sticker nonsense.
One person that was trying to leave was Kim. She was gritting her teeth and glaring furiously at her boyfriend. “Let’s go!” she commanded.
But Frank dug in his heels and said firmly. “I want to stay! If you want to go, go!”
His girlfriend’s eyes narrowed and both her hands went to her hips. “Why? So some skank can possess you and grab your dick? Or maybe they possess me and try and make out with you? Is that something you want? For some hussy or geek to take me over and make out with you?”
“Uh…” Was all the reply Frank could muster. Her words had sounded so exciting, so forbidden and alluring.
“Are you kidding me right now?” was all that Kim got out, before a girl behind her put a sticker on Kim’s back
Frank watched with wide eyes as it happened. He saw his girlfriend gasp, then squeal! She began to flex and wiggle her fingers. After that, she brought her hands to her boobs and started squeezing them shamelessly. “Not as large as mine,” Kim’s voice said appreciatively. “But definitely perkier.” Kim looked up into Frank’s eyes and smiled. “Sorry. It seemed like your girlfriend was about to rip you a new one. I hope you don’t mind.”
Not only did Frank not mind, but he was hornier than he had ever been. “Would you mind if I made out with my girlfriend right now? Probably won’t get a chance to later.”
The person in Kim appeared to consider it for a second, then shrugged her shoulders and giggled. “Sury, why not. It’s not my body.”
Their lips met and their tongues intertwined, but Frank wouldn’t get to experience all of it, because a sticker got placed on his back as well.
All around them, people were placing their stickers, and several people disappeared into someone else.
“Let the possession party commence!” Topher shouted. He bobbed and weaved his way quickly to the bar and began pouring drinks. “If any of you are feeling frisky, all the bedrooms are available to you!” He pressed a button on his phone and dance music flooded the room.
The most attractive people were the first to get possessed. Bailey would have fallen into that category, but when two people tried, Ryan saw them coming and intervened, pulling her out of the way. They escaped temporarily to a corner and watched as people started behaving strangely. Clothes began coming off and inhibitions were shed all around them. All combinations of people started making out passionately, guys and girls, guys and guys, and girls and girls, kissing, touching, groping. Two of the sorority girls had taken off their tops and bras and were just mashing their boobs together and giggling profusely.
“So, we’re not staying and being a part of this insanity, are we?” Ryan asked Bailey as they surveyed the debauchery around them. He wanted to leave. But he was also keenly aware that Bailey was almost cheek to cheek with him, and he didn’t mind that at all. He could smell her perfume, or lotion…whatever girls wear that made them smell good. He’d stay in this corner with just her for hours if she’d let him.
“How about I let you know in 90 seconds,” Bailey grinned as she snaked a hand behind Ryan’s back and placed her sticker.
To Ryan, it was as if no time had passed at all. Bailey’s face was grinning mischievously at him one second, and then the next, his face was meshed together with a girl’s. He could feel her in his mouth. It was hot and wet and warm. His dick was throbbing. He pulled back, and saw Bailey appear next to him out of the corner of his eye. He recognized the girl in front of him though, the one who had just been exploring his mouth with her tongue. It was the chubby girl that had been staring at him earlier.
She looked at him now with disappointment and hunger. “Why’d you stop?” Then she spotted Bailey.. “Oh, were you the one possessing him?”
“I don’t…” Ryan was at a loss. He looked at Bailey curiously, and she just gave him a thumbs up.
The girl smirked at Bailey and extended a hand towards her. “You’re a really good kisser. My name’s Tabitha.”
She took it and replied, “I’m Bailey, and this guy that can’t form complete sentences is my friend Ryan.”
“Just friends?” Tabitha asked firmly.
“Oh yeah, just friends,” Bailey confirmed, which felt like a knife through Ryan’s heart.
Tabitha looked at Ryan slyly. “I wonder if he’d kiss differently now?”
“Only one way to find out,” Bailey teased.
Tabitha wasted no time in pulling Ryan’s face back to hers. Again, Ryan felt her hot tongue as it probed his mouth. She was the one that ended the kiss this time. “Not as good, but he can learn.”
Ryan glanced at Bailey, and saw that she was happy for him. He couldn’t help but resent her pushing this Tabitha person into his path. Yes, he had gotten all worked up. But he was not happy. He didn’t want Tabitha. He wanted Bailey. He should just tell her that, out loud, instead of it broadcasting on loop in his mind. But he knew, deep down, he was too much of a coward. He tried to smile back at his friend, but his mouth crinkled and looked like had bitten into something sour.
Bailey thought he was joking, and made a face back at him. “Enjoy yourself, kids. I’m going to go get a drink.”
As she walked towards the bar, Tabitha hinted at Ryan, “I wouldn’t say no to a drink.”
Ryan had found his ability to brood wildly impared by a toplessTiffany who was making out with one of her sorority sisters.
Tabitha’s temper flared, but she gave Ryan another chance and loudly repeated, “Will you get me a drink?”
The question got into Ryan’s ears and bounced around as he saw the two gorgeous women kiss and fondle each other. He somehow managed to say, “I’m not thirsty.”
Tabitha looked angrily in Tiffany’s direction, and walked away from Ryan, who had just seemed to notice how many more topless women there were in the room.
Close by, Frank noticed his kiss with Kim had ended abruptly. One second he was kissing her luscious lips, and the next she had disappeared. Before he could even look around for her, time seemed to skip again, and he found himself in a room making out with a girl he had seen earlier, but didn’t know. Her hands were underneath his shirt, feeling the abs he worked so hard to keep. He heard the door shut behind him as whoever had possessed him left for a different target.
The woman in front of him was now trying to remove his shirt entirely. As he began to push her away, his girlfriend burst through the door at the worst possible time.
Kim charged like a bull and yelled, “Is this why you wanted to stay you two timing bastard!”
The girl on the bed with Frank yelped, rolled away, and ran out the door.
“Baby, this isn’t what it looks like!” Frank began.
“It looked like you were hooking up with that girl that just ran out of here!” Kim said as she took a swipe at Frank.
Frank dodged, and then continued to do so as Kim kept yelling and swinging away at him. Unbeknownst to her, a rotund looking guy had entered the room, and was sneaking up behind her. Frank saw. He saw it clearly. He could have said something, could have warned her, or shouted at the guy to stop, but he didn’t. A part of him, a very specific part actually, wanted his girlfriend to be possessed. He watched as a sticker was placed on her back, and the guy took control of his girlfriend’s hot body.
Instantly, Kim began to take her top and hurriedly struggled with her bra strap. As she did this, she said, “Ooh, I like this one. She’s real feisty. You’re welcome by the way, man. I think she had it in for you..”
The bra fell away and her perky breasts sprang into view. It wasn’t Frank’s first time seeing them, but it was different somehow. It wasn’t his girlfriend behind those eyes. It was someone else, controlling her, moving her, exposing her. For reasons he could not explain, it was the hottest thing he had ever experienced.
“Hey,” Frank said in almost a whisper. “That’s my girlfriend.”
The person inside Kim took this as a challenge, and Kim retorted, “Well sorry pal, but she’s mine for like, another 80 seconds or so.”
Frank looked her body up and down, then asked, “Could you take off her skirt too?”
Kim raised one eyebrow and jeered, “You want me to take off her panties while I’m at it?”
“Yes,” Frank said quietly. He was suddenly embarrassed as he realized he was asking this of another guy. A guy who would slide her underwear down her legs. Who would be able to see his girlfriend without a stitch on her.
Kim began to slowly nod like Frank’s request were totally sensible. “Alright. But first, introductions. The guy extended Kim’s hand while the other cupped a boob. “The name’s Steven.”
“Oh, uh, Frank.” He shook the offered hand. This part was weird, but it was worth it as he watched Kim’s eyes lock onto his, and she pulled down her skirt, then her panties.
“So, now what?” Kim’s voice asked casually. “You’re just going to stare at me? I mean, if that’s what gets you going.”
Frank thought it was so weird hearing Kim sound so easy going and accommodating. She’d been nothing but angry, bossy, and belligerent to him for months. Now she was talking to him without any of those tones or irritated expressions she typically used. And now that he wasn’t shaking her hand, she was groping both of her boobs.
“Can you like, make her strike sexy poses?” Frank stammered. Why was he so nervous?
Kim stopped mid squeeze. “I thought you said she was your girlfriend? Why can’t you just ask her to do that for you?”
“She is, I just, um, we’ve been going through a rough patch recently and…”
Kim put a hand on his shoulder. “Trouble in paradise. I get it. Say no more. I can pose her real provocative like, and you could take pictures. I wouldn’t mind that, especially if you’re willing to send them my way.” Kim fell back onto the bed and asked with feigned innocence, “Now how do you want me?”
Frank’s mouth went dry as he pulled out his phone to take pics.
Downstairs, Ryan was still gawking at the boobs all around him, but eventually remembered that Bailey was somewhere on the premises. Hadn’t she said the bar? He went to find her to see if she was ready to leave. But should he try possessing someone first? That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? He could possess Bailey, but…just because she had possessed him, didn’t mean she’d be cool with him possessing her. They should just leave. But first he had to find Bailey She was being a terrible wing woman.
He felt someone touch his arm and he whirled around. He swallowed hard, as a genuine goddess began speaking to him.
“So, can you like, protect me from all the creeps here?” Tiffany asked like a helpless maiden. “Everyone keeps possessing my friends and I. Maybe if I’m with you, they’ll leave me alone.”
“Oh, uh, I guess that’s okay.” Ryan managed meekly.
She sidled up next to him and began running her hand up and down his arm. “My hero. I’m glad you’re here to look after me.”
Ryan tried to respond, but he had registered that her breast was pressing into his arm. It was so big and soft. He had never imagined being this close to Tiffany’s boobs. His head had turned of its own accord and his eyes had zeroed in on her cleavage. He had a front row seat to the twins. He could die happy. Wait, she was saying something. He hadn’t been paying attention! “I’m sorry, what?”
Tiffany giggled. “I said you seemed hypnotized by my boobs.”
Ryan went red. He couldn’t look at Tiffany. In a panic, he began frantically looking around for Bailey to help him. “Oh. I’m sorry! They were right there and, they’re so perfect, and…”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you looking for if perfect boobs are right in front of you?”
“My friend, Bailey,” Ryan answered honestly, even as his airway seemed to be closing up as a defense mechanism not to say anything stupid until his friend could come and bail him out.
Tiffany pulled back and put her hands on her hips. “Ryan. A very attractive woman that you couldn’t stop ogling earlier is now right in front of you, and you’re looking for me! Get your head in the game!”
Ryan’s head snapped back to Tiffany. “What?”
And right about then he watched as Bailey was ejected from Tiffany’s body.
“Are you kidding me?” Ryan asked her. While Tiffany looked at the familiar freshman in front of her, Bailey moved quickly to retrieve the sticker.
“What is happening?” Tiffany blurted angrily. “I seem to keep blacking out and waking up with different people in front of me.” She looked down at her outfit. “At least my tits aren’t out this time!”
Bailey put the sticker back onto Tiffany’s killer bod and was back in the driver’s seat a moment later.
“Why are you inside her?” Ryan asked.
“Oh, so you can talk now that you know it’s me in here?” Tiffany/Bailey challenged.
“Well, yeah, I mean…”
“I’m trying to build your confidence Ryan. Tiffany is just a girl. Sure, she’s hot and all, but you can carry on a conversation with her the same as me if you just…Ryan…” She saw that she had lost him again to the depths of her temporary cleavage. “Oh for the love of…here! Get it out of your system.”
She grabbed the back of his head and plunged him face forward into her tits. She laughed as he struggled briefly, but then he began to slide his face around the big, bouncy orbs. Bailey noted that it felt good, maybe better than hers felt. But it had been awhile since someone’s face had been this close to her chest.
Ryan was in heaven, but with a limited supply of oxygen. He didn’t mind though. His face was between Tiffany’s boobs, with Bailey in charge. He’d still prefer Bailey’s body, but he could make do. He lifted an arm and pulled her top and bra down, just enough for a nipple to pop out.
“Hey, I’m not sure you should…” Tiffany’s voice protested, but stopped as Bailey felt Ryan’s tongue snake out and lick her borrowed tit. Damn! It was so sensitive. She was going to have to rub one out when this was all over. Or maybe she could still find a guy at this party to screw. As Ryan began to suck on the nipple, she reveled in the pleasure for several seconds, then pushed him back. “Okay, okay. I think your confidence has been built. Told you I’d be a great wing woman.”
“Can I…could you let me kiss her?” Ryan begged. “I uh, probably need a lot of practice in that area.”
Tiffany’s mouth grimaced slightly. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“You made me kiss a girl with my own mouth earlier!” Ryan countered. “And you just let me lick Tiffany’s tits!”
“That’s a very good point,” Tiffany laughed. “Well, I guess it’s okay.”
She puckered and leaned forward. Ryan felt his heart surge, and his lips met hers, and it was an amazing two seconds, and then he felt the slap.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Tiffany shrieked, and hurried off. She only made it five steps before a guy hopped into her and began feeling her up.
Bailey was standing in front of Ryan, and mouthed the word sorry.
“It’s fine,” Ryan said with a hand on his stinging cheek.
“Let me make it up to you. Is there anyone else you’d like me to possess?” Bailey asked helpfully.
Ryan thought that was such a loaded question. There were several beautiful women in this house. Bailey would probably let him touch any of them he wanted. But the person he really wanted to touch was right in front of him. He should just say that.
He tried. “Maybe…what if you…”
And then Tabitha walked behind Bailey and put a sticker on her back.
Upstairs, Frank was wishing 90 seconds were longer as Steven popped out of Kim for the fifth time, and promptly fell off the bed with a loud thunk. As his girlfriend’s face flared with anger, Frank reached towards her and pulled the sticker off her back. “Here!” he said, and shoved it towards Steven.
“Are you helping this gross pervert possess me?” Kim snarled. She looked down at herself. “And you still haven’t made him put my clothes on?”
As she was shouting, Steven placed the sticker on her back. It didn’t stick, but fell off.
“Put it on her man!” Frank urged.
“I did!” Steven said anxiously. “It’s not sticking anymore. That means the spell won’t work.” He looked towards the closed bedroom door as he planned a quick exit. He did not want to be in the middle of the impending lover’s quarrel.
“Worst. Boyfriend. Ever!” Kim shouted. “What were you letting him do to me?” She seemed to notice the phone in his hand for the first time and gasped. “Were you taking naked pictures of me? While this jerk was touching my body? I’m going to kill both of you as soon as I get my fucking clothes back on!”
“That’s my cue!” Steven said as he lumbered towards the door. “Good luck man.”
Steven was pretty out of shape, and Frank beat him by a mile to the door. He grabbed Steven by the shoulder and began whispering in his ear. “I never used my sticker. You can have it if you keep possessing her and, uh…let me…”
“What are you whispering about?” Kim shouted as she pulled her pants back on.
“Let me touch her,” Frank blurted out.
“I told you I’m not doing anything gay!”
“It’s not gay when you’re in a chick!”
Kim’s shirt was on, and she walked towards them with malicious resolve in her eyes.
“Negotiate later!” Steven squawked. “Possess now!”
Frank gave him the sticker he had kept in his pocket. A second later, his girlfriend’s hands were pummeling him about the head. He blocked what he could and tried to catch her arms.
“We are officially over!” she screamed. “And you should know I’ve been cheating on you with Mark for months. He’s got a huge dick! Much bigger than-”
But she stopped as Steven had moved behind her, and taken control.
Frank felt the fight go out of Kim. His hands were still on her. He let them slide down her arms. Her face lifted to his, and she looked him straight in the eyes and asked very hesitantly, “What kind of touching? Does this count?”
Frank stared at her soft lips. He wanted to kiss her so bad right now. Why? Why was she so much more alluring to him this way, with someone else inside of her?
“Hey dummy,” she said snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Clock’s ticking. What do you want me to do so I can keep your sticker?”
“I want to kiss you!” Frank demanded.
Kim’s body twisted from his grasp. “Gross. No way! I’m not kissing a guy. I didn’t have a problem posing your girl, especially after you said you’d send me the pics. But I’m not kissing you, or letting you touch me, or…”
“What if I eat her out?”
Kim/Steven paused. “I, uh…I guess that’s… Would I have to see your face?”
Frank shook his head. “Not if it’s between your legs.”
Steven was tempted. He’d only played with the boobs of the other girls’ he’d possessed, except for Kim. He’d managed to clumsily rub her pussy. It had felt okay, but he was pretty sure he was doing it wrong. “Have you eaten your girlfriend’s pussy before?”
“It’s been awhile, but yeah.”
“Did she like it?”
“Oh yeah.”
Steven knew the seconds were slipping away. He didn’t want to waste a whole possession round on the negotiations. “I guess, but no other touching.”
“How about this,” Frank said as he fished from his pocket Kim’s unused sticker that he had taken from her early in the chaos. “I give you this fresh sticker as well, and you let me kiss my girlfriend before I lick her pussy and make you cum.”
Two stickers! That was enough for Steven. “Deal! But I’m going to close my eyes and pretend you’re a chick. And try not to use a lot of tongue-”
But Frank’s mouth covered up any more words from Kim’s mouth. And his hands became needy and started extracting her from her clothes as quickly as he could.
Downstairs, Tabitha in Bailey’s body was grilling Ryan about his preferences. “How about that one?” she said as she pointed to a brunette taking shots at the bar.
“No. I don’t want you to possess her either?”
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to possess that Tiffany girl again? The incredibly hot one that everyone has been fighting over.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then who do you want? Because it wasn’t me! I could tell when you kissed me. But I can be literally anyone in this house you’d like to fuck right now. So who’s it going to be?”
“I, uh, no one, okay. Why do you even want to do this with me?”
A mischievous expression danced across Bailey’s face. “Because my kink is deflowering virgins. And I’d be willing to bet that you have never had a first time, have you?”
Ryan sighed and nodded once.
“Well then, virgin boy, I find myself with a terrific opportunity, and a quandary. You don’t seem to want to have sex in my body, but that’s okay, because I can be anyone in this house that you want me to be.” Tabitha watched him carefully. He refused to make eye contact with her, and only stared at the floor. Occasionally his eyes would drift up and he’d look her in the boobs.
A thought occurred to her, and she ventured a guess. “It’s this girl, isn’t it? The one I’m in right now. Bailey, right? The one that’s just your friend. She’s the one you really want.” Ryan said nothing but his eyes snapped right to hers, and they were filled with panic. That look told Tabitha all she needed to know, and she placed a hand gently onto Ryan’s cheek. “Well, she’s right here for the taking,” Bailey’s voice purred. “What do you say, virgin boy?”
“It’s not the same,” Ryan argued. “You’re not really her. And the spell will wear off any-”
And at that moment, it did, and Tabitha felt herself pushed out of Bailey’s body. She grabbed the sticker off of Bailey’s back, and almost put it back on. But she looked at Ryan curiously first, and seemed to reconsider her course of action. She whirled about suddenly and headed towards the bar where Topher was pouring a steady stream of drinks.
Bailey pulled her hand from Ryan’s face and asked curiously, “Did someone just possess me? What did they make me do?”
“Nothing,” Ryan said truthfully. “We just talked.”
“What? Lame!” Her gaze shifted to something behind him. “Oh my gosh! Look at that!” she exclaimed, pointing to a guy in the corner of the room. His sizeable dick was out and he was twirling it around and around. “He’s doing the helicopter twirl thing! I’d heard guys could do that, but I’ve never seen it til now.”
A girl popped out behind the guy just then and she walked away with a blush and a smile. She didn’t get far, as someone hopped into her, and her tits were out shortly thereafter.
“You good for a bit?” Bailey asked. “I’ve got to go try that out.”
“The helicopter thing? Be my guest,” Ryan said, doing his best to smile at her.
Bailey started to walk away, but noticed the cracks in her friend’s smile. “You okay?”
Ryan did his best to swallow his feelings. “I’m fine. Go and see what it’s like to twirl a dick. Can we leave after that?”
She sighed. “I guess, since it doesn’t seem like you’re having a good time.” And then she ran to sticker the guy.
A few seconds later, Ryan heard a guy’s voice yell from across the room, “Ryan, look! Look at my dick! I’m doing it!”
Ryan waved and gave Bailey another thin lipped smile, then walked to the bar. He might as well get a drink before he left. He was glad to see that Tabitha had already come and gone.
Upstairs, Steven was in paradise. He was getting eaten out 90 seconds at a time, which wasn’t ideal, but still felt amazing. He was fully prepared to use the last of the stickers possessing Kim if Frank kept licking that pussy.
It was even okay that Frank’s hand occasionally reached up and groped Kim’s boobs. It felt good to have another hand squeezing and pinching them. Steven arched Kim’s back as another wave of pleasure washed over him, as Frank hit that very special spot. “Oh damn! This feels so great! A pussy is so much better than a dick!”
Frank came up for air to ask, “How about you let me fuck her?”
Kim’s hand pushed Frank’s head back down. “Stop talking crazy and keep licking me.”
Frank obeyed for another few seconds, then stuck two fingers inside her sopping wet hole.
Kim/Steven yelped. “Ooh that feels weird, but I like it!”
“My dick goes in even deeper than that,” Frank pointed out. He watched as Kim/Steven seemed to consider this.
But before he could make up his mind, Steven popped out of Kim from behind her, which meant Kim was on top of him. Steven pushed her off quickly, and Frank handed him a sticker, which Steven hurriedly slapped onto Kim’s back. It slid off. “This one’s out, Frank.”
“Okay, here’s the other one.”
Frank saw Kim’s expression during the exchange. She still looked mad, but also like she was trying to work out a puzzle. “What have you been doing to my pussy?” she moaned. “It’s on fire.”
“Uh, just attacking it with my tongue.”
“You haven’t done that in forever,” she growled. She noticed Steven and shot him a glare, but then continued talking to Frank. “My pussy feels so tingly babe. Why don’t you ask this guy to leave so you can get back to it.”
Frank had to wonder why she would suddenly be cool with this, especially after yelling consistently at him between possessions.
“Oh,” Kim cooed. “I know what you’re thinking. This doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. I’m just so turned on right now and…” Kim froze for a second as Steven lunged for her, then, “I’m back inside her again, Frank. You should really listen to what the lady said and get that pussy.”
Not one to look a gift horse in the pussy, Frank did just that, at least for next several seconds. And then he stopped to talk again, and Kim sounded like her old self as she cut him off before he could say a word, “Stop starting and stopping. You keep getting me right to the edge and then back off at the worst time.”
“How about I go ask Topher for more stickers?” Frank propositioned. “I’ll pay him whatever he wants. And you let me fuck Kim with you inside of her, and then you keep the stickers.”
Steven mulled it over quickly, which wasn’t easy as he was so horny and couldn’t really think straight, pun intended. “Go get the stickers, and maybe I’ll give you a handjob.”
Frank tore from the room, a man on a mission.
Ryan was on his second drink at the bar when Frank bumped into him. “Hey man, watch…” Ryan stopped himself from saying anything else when he saw Frank’s additional height and muscles.
“Sorry bro,” Frank said with a brief glance at Ryan. “Hey Topher!”
“Having a good time?” Topher asked with a wink.
Frank glanced at Ryan and a woman at the bar. “I need to have a private conversation real quick with my friend here.”
“Oh, so we’re friends now,” Topher smiled. “I thought I was just your dealer.” He waved everyone else away.
Ryan was slow to leave, and heard Frank say, “No man, we’re best friends. Listen, you got any more stickers? I’m willing to pay.”
Topher nodded like he had expected this. “You’re not the first person to ask. You know the drill. Only the first taste was free.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred bucks.”
Ryan almost spit out his drink as he began to walk away. Two hundred bucks for 90 seconds? Well, 90 seconds times ten. That still seemed like a huge rip off.
He heard Frank read his mind. “That’s way too much money!”
“Well like I said, you only got a taste. What I’m selling will have more of a kick.”
Ryan was out of ear shot after that. He didn’t have money like that to blow anyway. He looked around for Bailey. He really wanted to leave now. He checked where helicopter guy had been. He was still there, but he wasn’t twirling his dick anymore. He was stroking it though, and a few other girls were watching him do it with wide, hungry eyes.
Ryan observed long enough to see a different girl hop out of him. Then another girl, one that had been eagerly waiting, possessed him a second later. Ryan shook his head. That well hung guy had a line of girls waiting to possess him like he was some kind of ride. But where was Bailey? He was beginning to get worried when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his friend’s pretty face.
“Sorry,” Bailey said quickly when she saw his concern fade. “Didn’t mean to worry you. Just had to use the bathroom.”
“It’s okay. You ready to go?”
“Well, what if-”
A person slapped her hard on the back, interrupting her. A guy had just put a sticker on her back. It stuck to her, but the guy didn’t disappear into her. He pulled it off and cursed, then said, “Oh man. I think I’m out!”
As he turned and walked away, he got possessed a second later by a girl who ran up behind and stuck him. His body quickly walked over to where Tiffany was making out with another guy, and began grinding his dick against her hip.
“If people are running out, that means the party will be winding down soon, I guess,” Ryan noted. “Sorry you didn’t get laid, Bailey. At least you got to swing a dick around. How did that feel?”
“What?” Bailey asked, then added quickly. “Oh, uh, good I guess. Hey, come with me.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the foyer, but instead of going towards the door, she led him up the flight of stairs.
“Where are we going?” Ryan asked.
“Just somewhere with a bit of privacy,” was all she said.
The first two rooms they tried were occupied. One contained a guy and a girl going at it like it was their job. The second one had the makings of a mini orgy. Ryan had to pull Bailey away from that one because she couldn’t stop staring.
When they got into the third room, Bailey locked the door behind them, then looked intently at Ryan.
“What?” Ryan wondered aloud. “Do I got something on my face? Why’d you bring us up here?”
“Is there something you want to say to me?” Bailey asked. She walked towards him slowly with a look of concern.
“What?” Ryan asked apprehensively. Internally, his mind was racing, wondering if she knew about his feelings for her. If she asked him directly, he’d deny, deny, deny.
“Is the reason you didn’t pursue any of the other girls here…” she got shy all of a sudden. “Is it because maybe…you like me?”
“Yes!” Ryan practically shouted. So much for denial. “I mean…I know we’re friends. And I don’t want to ruin that. Our friendship has been the best thing that happened to me since I got here and-”
Bailey raced towards him and kissed him. Her momentum pushed him back, and he fell into a sitting position on the bed. Bailey crawled onto his lap, and peppered his lips and face with her mouth.
“Oh my gosh!” he gasped. “Is this really happening? Is this real?”
In a quick movement, she yanked her shirt off and watched as his eyes locked onto her bra. “What do you think?” She seemed to take a moment to admire her cleavage before taking one of his hands and placing it over her bra. She helped him squeeze her. “Do these feel real, Ryan?”
Ryan was so happy, and so turned on, but there was this thought, a stupid thought, one that buzzed about and dared to try and interrupt his happiness. “Uh, is it really you in there, Bailey?”
With mild shock, she asked, “What? You think someone’s possessing me right now and that’s why I’m coming on to you?”
“Well, yes. I mean, this was a possession party after all.”
Bailey nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, you’re right. But it has been longer than 90 seconds since I started talking to you downstairs, hasn’t it?”
“I think so.”
“Well if you’re not sure, why don’t you count down from 90. You can watch me closely while I remove this bra.” With a soft click, she unfastened the clasp, and let the bra slowly fall away from her boobs. Ryan was watching very closely indeed as she added. “If you see anyone pop out of me, you’ll know I was possessed. But if not, you can decide what you’d like to do with me next.”
In a room close by, Kim became aware for what seemed like the twentieth time that she was sitting on a bed, still completely naked. That wasn’t new to her. Nor was the fact that her fingers were on her pussy or a hand was squeezing her boobs. That had been how she had discovered herself a few times now. Also not new, was how her body felt. It wanted sex, it wanted to be penetrated, it wanted to climax! She hadn’t been this worked up in a while But none of that mattered because she knew what would happen if she didn’t move quickly. The pervert behind her would put the sticker onto her back and take over her body. And then she’d find herself in a slightly different position with a finger on her clit and a hand on her boob in another 90 seconds.
All of this flashed across her mind in the span of a few moments, which normally would have been too long, but behind her, Steven had fumbled the sticker. He picked it up off the bed and tried to place it again, but Kim had already sprung to her feet, whirled around, and faced him.
The door was just past him. She could do this. She’d have to run into the rest of the house naked. And would have to dodge anyone else with a sticker. But she’d just have to make it out of the house. That’s what Topher had said. The magic only worked inside the house. And then she’d get even with Frank, and Topher too. But first she’d flatten this overweight geek who was standing in her way. She faked like she was about to dart left, then faked again to the right. The guy’s response time was slow. She could get by this guy with no problem.
“I uh, I can’t let you leave before Frank gets back,” Steven stammered.
“Yeah, and why’s that?” Kim shot back.
“Because he wants to, uh…” Steven couldn’t finish and went red.
Kim spit out the rest in a fury. “He wants to fuck me! While you’re in my body! Is that it?”
“No, I wouldn’t let…I’m not gay!”
Kim laughed in spite of herself. “Oh, I’m sorry! I get confused sometimes. You’re not gay. You just want my boyfriend’s dick inside of you, while you’re in me. Now it all makes sense.”
“It’s not the same!” Steven argued, trying to stall for time. “He just really knows how to get you off! But he’ll only do it for your body. That’s why he’s coming back. He can’t get enough of that,” he said as he motioned to her.
Kim wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She believed their relationship had been nearing its end, but…he still wanted her. She had walked all over him for months, and he still only had eyes for her. He could be banging any other girl while she had been possessed, but he wanted her body. But then she gave it more thought. He wanted her body, but not her mind, otherwise Frank wouldn’t need this pathetic excuse of a man to possess her. And Frank had been helping him do it!
“Well, he’s going to have to learn to live without me!” Kim declared, and then made her move. She had been right. The guy’s weight did make him slower. She was past him in a flash and her hand was on the door before he was fully off the bed. She yanked it open, and ran right into Frank.
“Steven, I thought I told you to stay…” Frank trailed off as he saw a sheepish Steven with one foot still on the bed. “Oh, I see.”
Kim whirled around so her back wasn’t exposed to Steven, so he couldn’t use the sticker on her. Her bare butt backed into Steven, and she felt his dick push against her. She understood what it was to be between a rock and a hard place.
With her eyes on Steven, she pleaded with Frank, “Babe, you don’t need him. If you want to fuck me, I’ll let you. I didn’t know you still loved me and wanted me this much. If you make this creep go away, we can try again.”
Frank put his beefy hands on her shoulders and spun her around. She was scared for a second, until she heard Frank’s booming voice say, “Drop the sticker, Steven.”
“But…” Steven protested as he shambled forward.
Kim smirked. She couldn’t believe Frank was buying her “try again” speech. She looked up at him and said, “My hero.” Then gave him a peck on the cheek.
She was so confident that her deception was working, that she didn’t notice Frank’s hand reach into his back pocket and pull out a blue sticker, and extend it towards Steven. Steven wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, but then he made eye contact with Frank, who winked at him. Steven closed the gap quickly, grabbed the sticker from Frank’s hand, and began to remove the plastic tab.
Kim realized that something was going on, but when she tried to turn around and see, Frank’s hands clamped onto her shoulders, pinning her to the spot. “What’s going on, Frank?” she asked sharply.
Frank gave her a knowing smile. “Everything with you has been hard lately, and you just suddenly have a change of heart about us? I’m sure that’s not the only time you’ve been fake with me.”
She began to squirm in his grip as she shouted in his face, “You’re right about that you pathetic waste of space! I will make you regret this! First chance I get I’m going to cut off your-”
And then the fight left her. She stopped squirming, and her face broke out into a grin. “I’m back in.”
Frank couldn’t help himself. He kissed her.
Steven felt a tongue enter Kim’s smaller mouth. Her feminine body responded automatically to the sensation of Frank’s body so close to hers. Steven’s mind rejected it a moment later, and he pushed Frank off and began spitting. “No, ew! Gross, man! Why’d you do that?”
Frank ushered them both in so he could lock the door. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. This is such a huge turn on for me.”
“I’m happy you’ve found your kink, but I am not comfortable kissing you.”
“But it’s okay if I eat her out?”
“Obviously,” Kim/Steven said as she fell backwards onto the bed and spread her legs wide.
“And you’ll let me feel her tits?”
“Yeah, yeah, all that feels good. Now hurry up so we don’t waste this sticker.”
Frank opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and lowered his mouth to Kim’s pussy. It wasn’t long before Kim’s moans filled the room. Frank started groping her tits with one hand, then both. She grabbed his hands and helped him squeeze harder. She had always liked it a little rough.
Steven found it hard to think about anything else but the waves of pleasure that kept rippling through Kim’s body. If he had been aware of the passage of time, he might have realized that more than 90 seconds had come and gone, a few times actually. He felt a finger go inside of Kim’s pussy again, then two, all while Frank’s tongue did its thing. Steven felt Kim’s pelvis begin to instinctively writhe and buck against Frank’s face, and a tsunami of ecstasy washed over him from head to toe. It was better than any orgasm Steven had ever felt in a male body, and lasted much longer as well.
Frank stopped his tongue lashing and withdrew his fingers. He looked at Kim, who lay sweaty and spent before him. His dick was throbbing. It needed release. Her legs had closed around Frank’s head as she came, but he steadily began to spread them wide again.
A thought finally occurred to Steven. “Hey, how long’s it been? Shouldn’t I have been kicked out of her by now?”
“If it had been the normal sticker, yeah. But Topher gave me one that lasts a bit longer.”
Kim’s face became worried. “How much longer?”
“Twenty four hours,” Frank said, and placed a finger directly onto Kim’s clit.
Kim moaned and her body squirmed. “But, that’s too long,” Kim/Steven whined. “I don’t want to be a girl for a whole day.”
“I’ll try to help it pass quickly for you,” Frank smiled as he slipped a finger back inside. “Or I could stop right now and we could go our separate ways.”
“No!” she pleaded. “Keep doing that! I’m still so horny! I could totally go again.”
That was the other kick Topher had promised. Not only would this version of the spell last longer, but it included an aphrodisiac spell. The possessed person’s body would have a higher libido the whole time. Still, Frank acted surprised by Steven’s words, even as he continued to tease Kim’s clit. “Oh? Well, I wish I could help you, but…” Frank stopped touching Kim entirely, leaving a very frustrated Steven.
Steven wasn’t dumb. He knew where this was heading. Kim’s body didn’t seem to care though. Steven made himself one final compromise. “I’ll shut my eyes, okay? But no kissing. And you can just…do what you need to do, but keep getting me off.”
“That’s my Kimmy,” Frank said. He watched Kim roll her eyes at that, before shutting them tightly. He pulled off his pants and boxers, and then stared at her sopping pussy for a few seconds.
Steven still didn’t look as Frank rubbed the tip of his dick in her juices, getting it nice and wet for entry. But Steven couldn’t stop himself from letting out a delighted squeal in Kim’s voice as Frank’s dick went in. Kim’s pussy was being filled slowly, inch by glorious inch. Kim’s eyes opened as Frank began to pump in and out of her. Steven was letting a guy fuck him. That had not been on his to do list today.
He looked down and was calmed by the sight of Kim’s tits, bobbing up and down as Frank pounding Kim’s pussy. Steven knew that Frank had clearly gotten more than a little pent up. It was okay. As long as he didn’t try to kiss him again. It was okay that he was inside this body. It felt good. So good. Impossibly good. He could do this. He could stay a girl for twenty four hours. He wondered how many orgasms a girl could have in that time. He couldn’t wait to find out.
Back in Ryan and Bailey’s room, things had moved a little more slowly. At Bailey’s insistence, Ryan had begun counting to 90, very slowly. Bailey had turned his count into a silent striptease, removing her shorts and underwear. Ryan only made it to 32, and then stood up.
“Can I touch you?” he asked in a nervous tremor.
She gave him a bigger smile than he had ever seen. “Of course. You can touch me anywhere you want.”
And that’s what he did. She giggled as he began to run nervous, shaky hands over her. He felt her soft, smooth skin that seemed to go on forever. His hands went up and down her arms, then he crouched and moved them down the side of her legs. This put her pussy directly in front of him. He saw the patch of dark blonde hair. He moved his hands to the back side of her legs, and lifted them up. When his fingers touched the underside of her butt cheeks, he hesitated.
Bailey was breathing hard as she encouraged him, “Keep going. Feel all of me. I want you to.”
He kept staring at her pussy as his fingers continued their journey. Her cheeks lifted at his touch, and then he was gripping them in his hands. Her butt was small and tight. He spread her cheeks apart, then pushed them together. He saw a trickle of moisture run down her inner thigh.
“Are you…” he started to ask. Then he brought a hand around and touched the clear fluid.
“Yeah, that’s how wet I am right now for you,” Bailey said with knees that began to shake. “I love how you’re touching me. I love how much you want me. I think I’ll need to sit down soon.”
“Of course, sure, yeah,” Ryan said. He stood and led her to the bed. They sat down, and he put a hand on her boob. And then he kissed her. They stayed like this for a minute or two. Ryan had no way of knowing because for him, time was at a standstill. Eventually, some instinct kicked in, and he began to push her down onto the bed.
“Wait,” she said.
Ryan froze, terrified that he had done something wrong.
“It’s your turn to get naked,” she whispered softly.
He sighed, and clumsily shucked off his clothes, almost falling over in the process. Then he was beside her, pushing her down. She spread her legs, letting his dick rub near her pussy entrance. He tried to push into her. His aim was off.
Bailey giggled, then reached down and took his dick into her hand. “Let me help you out there, virgin boy.”
That phrase struck Ryan hard, as Bailey’s hand guided him into her. His face mirrored a mixture of horror and delight as he felt himself slide into her depths. “Oh!” he gasped at the overwhelming sensation of being inside his crush.
“Try not to cum too fast!” she said quickly. “Think of something else if you need to.”
Ryan was already thinking of something else. The phrase virgin boy. That’s what Tabitha had called him. Had Bailey overheard her say that? She couldn’t have. Tabitha had been inside of Bailey at the time, and Bailey wouldn’t have remembered.
“That’s it,” Bailey cooed underneath him. “You’re nice and hard inside of me.This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Had Ryan ever told Bailey that he was a virgin? He didn’t think so. She might have assumed, but…
She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper. “You have to start a rhythm. You need to go in and out, not all the way out mind you, just to the tip. And then push back into me. Slowly at first, but then you can speed up, and you want to try and go deeper. Good. Just keep doing that.”
Ryan found himself following her instruction, even as his mind wondered. She began to moan loudly underneath him. It was incredibly sexy, and Ryan did not doubt that he would have exploded in her several times already if his mind weren’t otherwise preoccupied.
“Put a hand on my tit and pinch it!” she ordered.
Ryan obliged. She leaned forward for a kiss, and he gave it. It seemed hollow though. His dick didn’t care, and as it surged towards the finish line, he asked, “So, I guess thanks for being a great wing woman.”
Her expression became confused. “What? Wing woman? Sure, whatever. Just give it to me harder!”
He did give it to her harder. He was pumping furiously now as he kept to his line of questioning. “You called yourself that earlier, a couple of times actually. You said you’d be my wing woman and help get me laid.”
Her hips were bucking under him, trying to get him deeper every time. “How am I doing so far?” she cried out.
He could feel his balls tighten, and his dick begin to pulse inside her. Even so, he looked her in the eyes, and said the obvious. “You’re not her, are you?”
The hungry smile she gave him was one he had seen before, on Tabitha. She bucked harder and faster against him as she saw he was right on the edge. Then she gave him an extra show by playing with her tits. “That’s not going to stop you from cumming inside of her, is it?”
To Ryan’s regret, it did not stop him in the slightest.
The end?
3
28.1K
28
28
I thought that having my body possessed, my life stolen and my evenings spent tangled in a carnal carousel of degenerate sex was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I was wrong.
It had been three months since I had felt the presence slither out of my mind. Three months since I had been trapped as a helpless passenger in my own body, watching it gleefully debase itself in ways I had never dared imagine.
There had been no warning: One moment I had been waiting in line to audition for some minor speaking role, when a sudden shiver ran through me. The person sitting next to me had asked if I was okay, and I’d tried to make a joke about how nervous I was. Instead, my body silently stood up and began to walk briskly towards the exit.
I had tried to cry out. I tried to stop myself. I tried to trip myself up, swivel my eyes or even blink in a way that might signal to someone that something was terribly wrong, but I completely lost control of my own faculties. Some outside force had seized control of my body and walked it smartly into the elevator, taking us down to the lobby, out the studio doors and into the city’s seedy underbelly.
Well, perhaps not exactly. As my body began to pilot itself towards what I recognised as the red light district, I felt myself almost blacking out in panic - the thought of being trapped as my body handed out back-alley blowjobs filling me with a sense of sickness beyond simple nausea.
To my bitter relief, I watched myself sashay into the most salubrious venue in the city: More a luxury hotel than a whorehouse, but everyone knew that the turndown service included some very intimate extras.
I felt my face flex into a charming smile to the bouncer and saw his look of amused recognition. I’d never seen the brute in my life, but I realised with horror that I was just the latest victim of whatever sick perversion was taking place.
It is a terrible thing to feel your lips and tongue move of their own accord, speaking words not your own in a language you don’t even understand. Some cryptic collection of syllables whispered to the concierge that I could not have hoped to remember even the next day, let alone now.
I - my body, and whatever was controlling it - was given access to the service lift, disembarking into a hall that looked like a modernised Mount Olympus: Laden tables, bubbling fountains, crystalline pools, cushioned lounges and of course, an entourage of gorgeous men and women in various states of undress.
They did not seem gorgeous when I first laid eyes on them. In my state of horror and revulsion, I saw them only as whores and deviants; accomplices to the crime being committed against me. Now I remember their lithe physiques and alluring expressions with what I can only think of as a desperate, carnal thirst.
This is the curse that has scarred me since my release. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been freed from whatever monster had stolen a year of my life; the memory of the pleasures it enjoyed with my flesh remains, and I wake up at night feeling terribly cold and alone.
They had welcomed me with the warmth and intimacy of a lifetime lover, undressing me as my body gracefully shed one piece of clothing after another. There was an air of excited exploration: Despite their familiarity with whatever had taken control of me, every inch of my naked skin, every hair, every finger and toe was treated as a curiosity to be examined.
I felt my body gasp at the first kiss - a gentle peck on my inner thigh. My body smiled with amusement and allowed itself to be lowered onto a bed of gold tasselled pillows before opening its arms and legs to the storm of affection.
Kissing. Licking. Stroking. Squeezing. My body made no effort to resist as it was toyed with and tasted by this party of strangers, and I felt a thrill of physical excitement grow within me that I had never known before my possession.
Shortly afterwards I would reassure myself that I was the perversion of the degenerate mind controlling me that caused such feelings - that I would never experience that kind of enjoyment from such a debasing act.
I know now that I was a fool. My body has tasted something I could never hope to recreate within the confines of my drab morality, and its hunger for more would later drive me to madness.
I was the guest of honour that night, and my body was a dish to be sampled by all. I was forced to savour the taste of every guest in turn - the men, the women, and those wore the face and body of one while sporting the genitals of the other. I had hated them at the time, assuming that they were conscious of and taking delight in my imprisonment and suffering. It is still possible that they were, but somehow I find it hard to loathe them now as I did then.
There were no ringmasters that I can recall; no one figure dominating the course of proceedings. Were it not for my own distress, I would have assumed the proceedings had no sinister puppeteer skulking in the shadows, but I sought one out in an attempt to distract myself from the physical sensations.
Callisto. I remember the name Callisto. The thing wearing my face had recognised her and I had felt my traitor heart leap in my chest at the sight of her. She was beautiful. I could admit that, even in the throes of my own misery. She had descended through the forest of bodies to press her lips against mine - lips that devoured the kiss with ravenous abandon.
What followed was a torrent of whispers in that unknown language, punctuated by giggles and yet more lashing of tongues. The thing within me was smitten with this woman, and she had recognised its presence, despite my face. My eyes were closed for much of their tryst, but often they would open and each would gaze into each other before bursting into more giggles or succumbing once more to their lust.
The sensation of something hot and rubbery against my thigh came as a shock to me, and as my gaze shifted to look, I expected to see some male suitor encroaching from between us. Instead, I saw an incongruously large penis sprouting from between Callisto’s legs, visibly bobbing as it twitched in time with her heartbeat.
My own shock failed to register on my face, which smiled with what I felt was both encouragement to the woman on top of me and a vindictive irony at my helplessness.
If Callisto was aware of my revulsion behind the smile, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she chose to slide her shaft between my legs, thrusting slowly back and forth so that its length ran along my nether lips in languid, luxurious strokes.
My body squealed, arching its back as I felt muscles within me twitch and spasm in delighted anticipation. Over the course of what felt like hours, my disgust reluctantly gave way to frustration - my body teased to the edge of orgasm again and again without reaching the peak.
I wanted to cry. To bed for forgiveness for whatever crime I had committed to deserve this humiliation, whatever it took for them to unchain or - if I must remain under their control - to at least give me release.
As I cried out in my own mind, I felt my body giggle again, and I realised with mortified horror that the thing controlling me was indeed aware of my own thoughts and was gaining a twisted sense of enjoyment from my distress.
Before I could rally any kind of indignant rage to admonish them with, my lips whispered a command to Callisto, who obliged by drawing back and thrusting into me until our crotches were pressed together.
My possessor had been ready for it, and wrapped my legs around her lover to better grind my body against her, moaning in ecstasy as I was forced to share in her pleasure. Every part of my skin was electrified, and I could feel every hair, every raised pore, every millimetre of my breasts and vulva and sweat-slick skin rubbing and sliding and stretching over my muscles as they contorted and twitched.
It was magical. As ashamed as I am to say it even now, it was like nothing I had experienced in my life up to that instant, and while I still try to convince myself that the memory makes me sick with disgust, the truth is that I am filled with a painful sense of longing for that moment and the many others that followed.
She had called out a name as she poured herself into me, the warmth of her seed spreading a fire throughout my body. “Artemis,” she had cried out, and my own body moaned hers in response. Even after the spasms eased, we spent some time simply basking in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of climax.
We did not remain in each other’s arms for long, and soon afterwards I would find myself once again being handed from partner to partner, sometimes one by one, sometimes in groups of four or more, each one of them hungry to savour this new morsel that had been puppeteered into their den. There was no effort to engage in intimacy, no connection formed other than the purely physical. I was the evening’s main dish, and I found myself being tasted by many mouths.
I wish I could say that I blacked out, or that overstimulation numbed me such that time passed in a blur. I was granted no such mercy. I remember clearly peeling my viscid skin from the evening’s final paramour. I remember finding my garments among the pile by the door. I remember the knowing leer of the hotel staff as I saw myself out the lobby to a waiting cab that answered to foreign instructions and demanded no fee. I remember my confusion slowly turning to horror as I recognised the streets I was being driven down - that the thing within me had somehow gleaned my address and was taking me home. Is that how they had found me? Had some enchantment been weaved on me as I slept, culminating in my capture earlier that day?
As I watched my body wash itself thoroughly, sneering at what modest comforts I could afford myself, I hoped with increasing desperation that the rising of a new sun would banish the nightmare. Despite certainly knowing my thoughts, my body gave no response besides rolling naked into bed and closing my eyes. I had only moments of darkness before the current of sleep dragged me under.
*
My eyes opened to the sound of my morning alarm, and it was with a sudden rush of relief that I sat up in dawn’s early light. That relief was short-lived, as my body had in truth been obeying its new master, who had simply risen as I would have done. Now I felt the world turn as my body spun out of bed and practically danced to the bathroom mirror to admire by the light of day the prize it had stolen.
The expression of vindictive glee it wore with my face contrasted against my own horror, and while it spared no words for what it was or why it had chosen me, it took the time to tease us both to solitary climax with my stolen hands.
Far from being freed, that morning marked the first full day of my new nightmare: A nightmare in which my body would walk familiar streets, greet familiar faces and complete familiar tasks without fault or any sign that I was anyone but myself. I soon realised that its knowledge of my address was not the fruit of reconnaissance, but its ability to effortlessly reach into my mind and pluck what memories it needed at will.
Trapped within myself, I watched as my body greeted my peers and superiors with the deference each deserved, attended the venues and gatherings at which my absence would be noted and carried out my duties to a standard surpassing my own. It was on this last point that I felt my wayward body becoming unaccountably aroused, as praise was heaped upon my impostor for the improvement in performance. I realised that whoever had taken my life, they were gaining a wicked sense of glee for living it better than I had, and that should my body ever be returned to me, I would struggle to live up to the new expectations my possessor had created for me.
It was with this terrible realisation that I watched my body bid farewell to my unsuspecting coworkers, hailing down a taxi and speaking once again in that unknown tongue. The cab drove us back to the hotel from the evening before, and my horror deepend at the revelation that last night’s humiliation had only been the first of many.
From that day onwards, debauchery became my body’s nightly diversion. I would wake with my body in the morning, watch during the day in the futile hope that some trusted friend would glean the falsehood of my countenance, then once again find myself victim to the myriad indecencies my body would visit upon itself and others.
Most times it would be at the same hotel, though on rare occasions I would find myself being piloted to one of the party member’s own domiciles. Against my will, I became familiar with the personal penthouses of many wealthy figures in the city, earning entry through various acts of self-debasement. Country cottages, summer homes, private jets; my body took itself on a tour between various spheres of power and influence, grovelling and dancing and mewling its way under every table to lick the floor clean of scraps.
Upon my first encounter with a true public figure, I had resolved to burn the sight of every face and the sound of every name into my memory, such that upon my eventual release I could throw back the curtain on the carnival of corruption and gain some measure of closure for the suffering inflicted upon me. Naively, I hoped to retain enough information to tear down their palaces of sin and expose their crimes to the world.
A stupid, childish ambition.
In the three months since my release, no matter how I wrack my brain, no matter how many newspaper photos I look at and how many public broadcasts I watch, not a single name or face evokes so much as a twitch of recognition. Whatever memories I had retained up to the day of my release, my possessor had reached into my mind and erased them.
But I remembered Callisto. Among the countless sea of fog-obscured faces that flooded my recollection, Callisto’s remained clear.
I saw her surprisingly rarely, given the relationship she had with the thing controlling me. I had no idea where she was on the many nights I endured without her, and there was no pattern or apparent purpose to her attendance. Some nights she was simply there waiting for me, and some nights she would arrive later and seek me out in the heaving, sighing, moaning mass of limbs and flesh.
Despite its many sordid engagements with countless partners, Callisto was the only one that my body was truly intimate with. They would burrow out a private nest among the pillows, slink away to some shadowed corner booth or in one case, cradle each other in the arms of the statue that dominated the hall where everyone could see, but none could reach.
Callisto was the first and only person my body invited back to my own apartment, and while I raged at this latest invasion of my privacy and trespass on my life, I could not overcome the excitement burning through my body as it gave Callisto a tour of my meagre dwellings.
Unlike Artemis, Callisto did not sneer. She had eyes only for her lover, and it wasn’t long before they were tumbling naked onto my bed.
I had invited some promising suitors to my apartment in the past, and in exceptional cases had invited them to spend the night in my bed, but I had experienced nothing like the overwhelming passion these creatures felt for each other. As they lay panting in the dim lamplight, gazing into each other’s eyes, I had to remind myself that the sensation of joyous fulfilment welling up in my heart was not my own, and that the gorgeous woman leaning in to press her lips against mine was not my lover, but a concubine to the foul thing that wore my face and had stolen my life.
It was perhaps six months since losing control of myself that I arrived as accustomed to the hotel banquet to find Callisto waiting for me but unaccountably nervous, as though she had suddenly shrunk in on herself and lost all sense of confidence.
She approached me with uncharacteristic trepidation and in a quavering voice spoke the name Artemis, as though unsure if I was still being controlled.
The thing wearing my face smiled, but not with the warmth or affection I had come to expect. It was a sinister smile. A predatory smile. And, like a predator, she drew Callisto into her arms and flung her to the floor before pouncing on top of her while the crowd roared with laughter.
Artemis seemed to have grown weary of her lover, and I felt my blood surge in unwanted excitement as I watched the horror of realisation drawn on Callisto’s face. I felt her body squirm beneath my weight as she cried out in pain and fear, begging for forgiveness as my hands roughly tore at her clothes. Despite her protestations, she was fully erect beneath her skirt and my body laughed at her humiliation as it brought her struggling upright, exposing her shame to the mocking throng.
I had never pictured Callisto as being possessed of physical or mental strength, and my suspicions were confirmed as the poor girl hung helplessly from one arm gripped by my own hand while my other jerked her roughly to climax.
She moaned piteously as she emptied her soul onto the marble floor, and when thrown to her knees and ordered to clean it with her mouth, she did so without resistance, weeping such that her tears mingled with her seed on the floor.
That was the last time I saw Callisto while deprived of control. I remember taking on new lovers to varying degrees of intimacy, but any memory of names or faces have been pulled clean from my mind.
My impression of the six months that followed were simply of the same routine: Appear as normal during the day, lascivious pursuits by night punctuated by weekends of debauchery.
It was with a genuine sense of shock that one morning I woke up to find that my body did not rise from my bed of its own accord, nor did it leap to the mirror to admire itself. Instead, it lay listlessly in bed, staring at the ceiling.
With a great effort of will, reforging the connection from months of disuse, I raised my hand up to my face.
My body was my own once more.
*
I did not cheer, I did not even smile. I realised that despite my freedom, I had somehow not recovered control of my body. Even the steady rise and fall of my breast was automatic, and I could neither slow nor hold my breath.
It took several frustrating minutes just to move my eyes and turn my head. Moving my limbs felt like swimming in mud, and I would have cried from the effort if I could only remember how.
I could not stand. I could barely raise myself on all fours, the softness of the mattress causing me to lose what little balance I could muster. It was not until I heard the chime of my phone that I realised I had spent several hours simply trying to get out of bed.
Mercifully, my phone was close to hand, and while the first two calls failed before I could reach it, I was able to answer the third.
“Angie, where are you? It’s almost midday!”
I recognised the voice as my supervisor. Thanks to my artificially improved performance, I was her star employee, and her concern at my sudden absence was clear in her voice.
“Hrrn,” I said, my throat thick and my tongue sluggish.
“Angie? Are you there?”
“Heeln,” I managed, my vision swimming with the effort.
“Oh my God, Angie. Are you okay?”
“Herlp. Mrr.” It was all I could think of saying.
“Oh, God. Oh, God, Angie you stay where you are, I’m going to get help.”
It was a thin silver lining of my possession. Possibly Artemis had intended it from the start: That the person charged with contacting me from work would also be kind enough not simply to worry, but also to act if she thought I was in danger. No doubt she believed I was suffering some kind of medical emergency, though she could never have guessed the truth.
I soon found myself in hospital, where I was diagnosed with a sudden onset neurological disorder. The doctors had come to that conclusion after many frustrated attempts to quantify my condition via their many scans and tests. They suggested more out of hope than certainty that my condition would improve with rest and gradual physical therapy.
I wasn’t about to correct them. Not simply because of my inability to speak or write, but also because they would most definitely have deemed me insane as well as crippled.
Their prognosis proved sound, despite their ignorance. Over the course of the next four weeks, I gradually regained the use of my own body thanks to the patience of the staff assigned to me. It was maddeningly tedious, frustrating work, but by the end of the month I was able to walk unassisted out of the hospital to the taxi that was waiting for me.
For a moment I thought I might recognise the driver, or that they might recognise me. I had already come to the realisation that my memories had been tampered with, but if I perhaps mumbled something in the correct tone with enough confidence, would he still think me under Artemis’ control?
I gave my address and went home.
After that, my life fell apart. As predicted, I could not match the workplace performance Artemis had given while wearing my body, and what began as sympathy for my recent hospitalisation turned to frustration at my inability to recover.
Compounding my poor state of mind was the persistent sensation of emptiness that stole over me in the night: The feeling that I should be wrapped in the arms of another, gorging myself on their scent and sweat instead of languishing alone in the coldness of solitude.
Weeks passed one after the other with not only a failure to improve but the bitter void within me growing deeper with every passing night. I would dream of Callisto’s tear-stained face and wake up begging for forgiveness.
I entertained the idea of returning to the hotel, to the crucible of sin I had been forced to spend a year of my life, but the fantasy of what would happen on my arrival grew increasingly deranged. No arm of the law could be trusted to stand against the men who had taken advantage of my body while I was possessed, and even if I could somehow fool the guards into thinking I was still being controlled, what could I hope to achieve upon my return?
Despite this, I found myself helplessly drawn to the street outside the hotel in the safety of daylight, trapped at the periphery, both hoping and dreading being seen and recognised.
It was there, nine months after last laying eyes on her, that I saw Callisto.
I did not call out, but instead ran with a silent desperation to catch up to her as she moved through the crowd. The sound of my footsteps drew her attention, and she turned just as I drew close enough to reach out and grab her.
The look of sudden terror on her face caused my heart to sink, but her expression quickly turned to one of confusion as she clearly saw the difference in my nature since our last meeting.
“You,” she said, with none of the fear I remembered in her voice. “You’re not Artemis, are you?”
It was in that moment that I felt the ground tilt beneath me, a sudden dizziness claiming my mind as I came to terms with the implications of her question.
A pair of arms grabbed me, not unkindly but without unwarranted tenderness. I looked into eyes I had been made to fall in love with against my will, and saw another soul behind them.
She wasn’t Callisto. She never had been. Just as the thing that answered to the name Artemis had worn me as its meat puppet, a creature that called itself Callisto had worn her.
The horror must have shown in my expression, because hers softened as one who had experienced the same loss and revelation.
She embraced me then, and I held onto her as though she were the only real thing in the world: Two lovers deprived of their souls.
We found ourselves at a nearby cafe sometime later, recounting the circumstances of our respective capture, speculating how it was done and pointedly pretending not to know any intimate details of the other’s anatomy.
Her name was Christina, and after what seemed like much internal debate, she asked if I wanted to go back.
I was horrified at the suggestion, bringing up her own mistreatment as reason never to return, but she admitted that even after her rejection and humiliation at my hands under Artemis’ control, she had continued attending other venues to indulge her carnal impulses, describing the same cold hollowness that had robbed me of sleep for so many nights.
I told her that I would need some time to think about it, and in the dying light of the setting sun, she offered to walk me home.
She did not in fact remember my address from her evening with Artemis - Callisto having robbed her of the memory - but her face lit up in recognition when I let her into my apartment. Neither of us needed to say that she had never intended to simply walk me home, and after a brief moment of awkwardness, we found ourselves in each other’s arms once again, though for the first time of our own volition.
The lovemaking was… awkward. Neither of us possessed the confidence, nor ravenous hunger for the other that the creatures controlling us had possessed, but there was a sincerity to the moment we shared that was entirely unique.
My body still remembered the shape of her as she pushed herself into me, hesitant despite the countless times we had rutted with abandon in the past. There were no heroic thrusts, no cries of triumph or ecstasy; just a pair of stringless puppets filling the hole in one another’s lives.
*
We returned to the hotel the next morning. My life was beyond recovery, and Christina seemed to have given up on her own.
The true extent of her despair did not dawn on me until I witnessed the familiarity with which she was greeted by the denizens of the grand hall. A familiarity that betrayed the fact that she had in fact already returned, possibly while I was still possessed and that the memory of seeing her again had simply been erased from my mind.
Too numb with shock to resist, I found myself being led first by Christina but soon by the entire congregation, shepherding and pulling and lifting me up to the feet of the statue where two figures lay draped in its arms.
Despite wearing new faces, I recognised their expressions at once. Artemis and Callisto leered down at us: Two discarded skins now returned to their lair.
Through a haze of terror I heard Christina praise their names and claimed me as her other half in the coming sacrifice. I had no knowledge of what she was speaking of, but whatever horror lay in store for me seemed a fitting start to yet another nightmare.
The body of the woman Artemis now wore sniffed, looking down at me with scorn. She wondered aloud if I had actually been informed of the coming ritual, chastising Christina with a reminder that the sacrifice must be voluntary or the coming rite would fail.
Christina turned to me then, an anguished hope in her eyes.
We could still be together. Not as Callisto and Artemis, not as Christina and Angela, but as the new souls that would be summoned from beyond the void to fill our vessels and once again give purpose to our lives.
We had tasted the joy of subjugation, and would remain forever desolate if we continued to obstinately exist without a master.
She had deceived me. By omission and by trickery, she had deceived me into returning here, but on this she spoke truly. She knew I had felt the emptiness within me as surely as my own warm heart had been plucked from my chest - and emptiness she had been forced to suffer half a year longer than I. I saw in her desperation what I could become if I refused.
I agreed, though neither the triumphant roar of the throng nor the tight, grateful embrace Christina gave me assuaged my fear.
There was no drinking of blood or reading of entrails, no sonorous gong or ringing of bells. It happened in an instant. No sooner had Christina tearfully released me than I felt the shiver run through me once more.
It was different this time: Where a year ago, it had felt like stepping through a sheet of frigid water, now it was like a distant pattering of freezing droplets raining down on me, first as a trickle but gradually growing into a flood.
In my soul I knew what the difference was: Over a year ago, I had been assaulted by the will of some foul spirit that already commanded a foothold in our world. Now some new demon was being called, called from across the infinite planes of space to its new home in my mortal shell.
In my terror, I considered resisting, but it was already too late. I gasped as the mist filled me - the last action I would ever make with my own body. I felt the rivulets of ice spread from my chest into my spine, splitting into countless fine hairs that ran along my arms and legs into hands, feet, fingers and toes. I felt the cold reach up into my neck, my skull, my face and finally, my mind. I felt it dig its cold claws into every inch of me before wresting control like an apple plucked from the tree.
I felt full. I felt whole. I felt my face break into a lascivious smile, mirrored on the face of what was no longer Christina as we stood, still with our arms around each other.
As the beings controlling us sealed their dominion over our bodies with a kiss, I felt Christina’s length sliding into my already slick womanhood, our bodies like virgins to the occupying souls.
As our conquered bodies rapidly reached climax, I felt the invading spirit settle over mine completely and knew with terrible certainty that this one would never let go.
I was wrong.
It had been three months since I had felt the presence slither out of my mind. Three months since I had been trapped as a helpless passenger in my own body, watching it gleefully debase itself in ways I had never dared imagine.
There had been no warning: One moment I had been waiting in line to audition for some minor speaking role, when a sudden shiver ran through me. The person sitting next to me had asked if I was okay, and I’d tried to make a joke about how nervous I was. Instead, my body silently stood up and began to walk briskly towards the exit.
I had tried to cry out. I tried to stop myself. I tried to trip myself up, swivel my eyes or even blink in a way that might signal to someone that something was terribly wrong, but I completely lost control of my own faculties. Some outside force had seized control of my body and walked it smartly into the elevator, taking us down to the lobby, out the studio doors and into the city’s seedy underbelly.
Well, perhaps not exactly. As my body began to pilot itself towards what I recognised as the red light district, I felt myself almost blacking out in panic - the thought of being trapped as my body handed out back-alley blowjobs filling me with a sense of sickness beyond simple nausea.
To my bitter relief, I watched myself sashay into the most salubrious venue in the city: More a luxury hotel than a whorehouse, but everyone knew that the turndown service included some very intimate extras.
I felt my face flex into a charming smile to the bouncer and saw his look of amused recognition. I’d never seen the brute in my life, but I realised with horror that I was just the latest victim of whatever sick perversion was taking place.
It is a terrible thing to feel your lips and tongue move of their own accord, speaking words not your own in a language you don’t even understand. Some cryptic collection of syllables whispered to the concierge that I could not have hoped to remember even the next day, let alone now.
I - my body, and whatever was controlling it - was given access to the service lift, disembarking into a hall that looked like a modernised Mount Olympus: Laden tables, bubbling fountains, crystalline pools, cushioned lounges and of course, an entourage of gorgeous men and women in various states of undress.
They did not seem gorgeous when I first laid eyes on them. In my state of horror and revulsion, I saw them only as whores and deviants; accomplices to the crime being committed against me. Now I remember their lithe physiques and alluring expressions with what I can only think of as a desperate, carnal thirst.
This is the curse that has scarred me since my release. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been freed from whatever monster had stolen a year of my life; the memory of the pleasures it enjoyed with my flesh remains, and I wake up at night feeling terribly cold and alone.
They had welcomed me with the warmth and intimacy of a lifetime lover, undressing me as my body gracefully shed one piece of clothing after another. There was an air of excited exploration: Despite their familiarity with whatever had taken control of me, every inch of my naked skin, every hair, every finger and toe was treated as a curiosity to be examined.
I felt my body gasp at the first kiss - a gentle peck on my inner thigh. My body smiled with amusement and allowed itself to be lowered onto a bed of gold tasselled pillows before opening its arms and legs to the storm of affection.
Kissing. Licking. Stroking. Squeezing. My body made no effort to resist as it was toyed with and tasted by this party of strangers, and I felt a thrill of physical excitement grow within me that I had never known before my possession.
Shortly afterwards I would reassure myself that I was the perversion of the degenerate mind controlling me that caused such feelings - that I would never experience that kind of enjoyment from such a debasing act.
I know now that I was a fool. My body has tasted something I could never hope to recreate within the confines of my drab morality, and its hunger for more would later drive me to madness.
I was the guest of honour that night, and my body was a dish to be sampled by all. I was forced to savour the taste of every guest in turn - the men, the women, and those wore the face and body of one while sporting the genitals of the other. I had hated them at the time, assuming that they were conscious of and taking delight in my imprisonment and suffering. It is still possible that they were, but somehow I find it hard to loathe them now as I did then.
There were no ringmasters that I can recall; no one figure dominating the course of proceedings. Were it not for my own distress, I would have assumed the proceedings had no sinister puppeteer skulking in the shadows, but I sought one out in an attempt to distract myself from the physical sensations.
Callisto. I remember the name Callisto. The thing wearing my face had recognised her and I had felt my traitor heart leap in my chest at the sight of her. She was beautiful. I could admit that, even in the throes of my own misery. She had descended through the forest of bodies to press her lips against mine - lips that devoured the kiss with ravenous abandon.
What followed was a torrent of whispers in that unknown language, punctuated by giggles and yet more lashing of tongues. The thing within me was smitten with this woman, and she had recognised its presence, despite my face. My eyes were closed for much of their tryst, but often they would open and each would gaze into each other before bursting into more giggles or succumbing once more to their lust.
The sensation of something hot and rubbery against my thigh came as a shock to me, and as my gaze shifted to look, I expected to see some male suitor encroaching from between us. Instead, I saw an incongruously large penis sprouting from between Callisto’s legs, visibly bobbing as it twitched in time with her heartbeat.
My own shock failed to register on my face, which smiled with what I felt was both encouragement to the woman on top of me and a vindictive irony at my helplessness.
If Callisto was aware of my revulsion behind the smile, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she chose to slide her shaft between my legs, thrusting slowly back and forth so that its length ran along my nether lips in languid, luxurious strokes.
My body squealed, arching its back as I felt muscles within me twitch and spasm in delighted anticipation. Over the course of what felt like hours, my disgust reluctantly gave way to frustration - my body teased to the edge of orgasm again and again without reaching the peak.
I wanted to cry. To bed for forgiveness for whatever crime I had committed to deserve this humiliation, whatever it took for them to unchain or - if I must remain under their control - to at least give me release.
As I cried out in my own mind, I felt my body giggle again, and I realised with mortified horror that the thing controlling me was indeed aware of my own thoughts and was gaining a twisted sense of enjoyment from my distress.
Before I could rally any kind of indignant rage to admonish them with, my lips whispered a command to Callisto, who obliged by drawing back and thrusting into me until our crotches were pressed together.
My possessor had been ready for it, and wrapped my legs around her lover to better grind my body against her, moaning in ecstasy as I was forced to share in her pleasure. Every part of my skin was electrified, and I could feel every hair, every raised pore, every millimetre of my breasts and vulva and sweat-slick skin rubbing and sliding and stretching over my muscles as they contorted and twitched.
It was magical. As ashamed as I am to say it even now, it was like nothing I had experienced in my life up to that instant, and while I still try to convince myself that the memory makes me sick with disgust, the truth is that I am filled with a painful sense of longing for that moment and the many others that followed.
She had called out a name as she poured herself into me, the warmth of her seed spreading a fire throughout my body. “Artemis,” she had cried out, and my own body moaned hers in response. Even after the spasms eased, we spent some time simply basking in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of climax.
We did not remain in each other’s arms for long, and soon afterwards I would find myself once again being handed from partner to partner, sometimes one by one, sometimes in groups of four or more, each one of them hungry to savour this new morsel that had been puppeteered into their den. There was no effort to engage in intimacy, no connection formed other than the purely physical. I was the evening’s main dish, and I found myself being tasted by many mouths.
I wish I could say that I blacked out, or that overstimulation numbed me such that time passed in a blur. I was granted no such mercy. I remember clearly peeling my viscid skin from the evening’s final paramour. I remember finding my garments among the pile by the door. I remember the knowing leer of the hotel staff as I saw myself out the lobby to a waiting cab that answered to foreign instructions and demanded no fee. I remember my confusion slowly turning to horror as I recognised the streets I was being driven down - that the thing within me had somehow gleaned my address and was taking me home. Is that how they had found me? Had some enchantment been weaved on me as I slept, culminating in my capture earlier that day?
As I watched my body wash itself thoroughly, sneering at what modest comforts I could afford myself, I hoped with increasing desperation that the rising of a new sun would banish the nightmare. Despite certainly knowing my thoughts, my body gave no response besides rolling naked into bed and closing my eyes. I had only moments of darkness before the current of sleep dragged me under.
*
My eyes opened to the sound of my morning alarm, and it was with a sudden rush of relief that I sat up in dawn’s early light. That relief was short-lived, as my body had in truth been obeying its new master, who had simply risen as I would have done. Now I felt the world turn as my body spun out of bed and practically danced to the bathroom mirror to admire by the light of day the prize it had stolen.
The expression of vindictive glee it wore with my face contrasted against my own horror, and while it spared no words for what it was or why it had chosen me, it took the time to tease us both to solitary climax with my stolen hands.
Far from being freed, that morning marked the first full day of my new nightmare: A nightmare in which my body would walk familiar streets, greet familiar faces and complete familiar tasks without fault or any sign that I was anyone but myself. I soon realised that its knowledge of my address was not the fruit of reconnaissance, but its ability to effortlessly reach into my mind and pluck what memories it needed at will.
Trapped within myself, I watched as my body greeted my peers and superiors with the deference each deserved, attended the venues and gatherings at which my absence would be noted and carried out my duties to a standard surpassing my own. It was on this last point that I felt my wayward body becoming unaccountably aroused, as praise was heaped upon my impostor for the improvement in performance. I realised that whoever had taken my life, they were gaining a wicked sense of glee for living it better than I had, and that should my body ever be returned to me, I would struggle to live up to the new expectations my possessor had created for me.
It was with this terrible realisation that I watched my body bid farewell to my unsuspecting coworkers, hailing down a taxi and speaking once again in that unknown tongue. The cab drove us back to the hotel from the evening before, and my horror deepend at the revelation that last night’s humiliation had only been the first of many.
From that day onwards, debauchery became my body’s nightly diversion. I would wake with my body in the morning, watch during the day in the futile hope that some trusted friend would glean the falsehood of my countenance, then once again find myself victim to the myriad indecencies my body would visit upon itself and others.
Most times it would be at the same hotel, though on rare occasions I would find myself being piloted to one of the party member’s own domiciles. Against my will, I became familiar with the personal penthouses of many wealthy figures in the city, earning entry through various acts of self-debasement. Country cottages, summer homes, private jets; my body took itself on a tour between various spheres of power and influence, grovelling and dancing and mewling its way under every table to lick the floor clean of scraps.
Upon my first encounter with a true public figure, I had resolved to burn the sight of every face and the sound of every name into my memory, such that upon my eventual release I could throw back the curtain on the carnival of corruption and gain some measure of closure for the suffering inflicted upon me. Naively, I hoped to retain enough information to tear down their palaces of sin and expose their crimes to the world.
A stupid, childish ambition.
In the three months since my release, no matter how I wrack my brain, no matter how many newspaper photos I look at and how many public broadcasts I watch, not a single name or face evokes so much as a twitch of recognition. Whatever memories I had retained up to the day of my release, my possessor had reached into my mind and erased them.
But I remembered Callisto. Among the countless sea of fog-obscured faces that flooded my recollection, Callisto’s remained clear.
I saw her surprisingly rarely, given the relationship she had with the thing controlling me. I had no idea where she was on the many nights I endured without her, and there was no pattern or apparent purpose to her attendance. Some nights she was simply there waiting for me, and some nights she would arrive later and seek me out in the heaving, sighing, moaning mass of limbs and flesh.
Despite its many sordid engagements with countless partners, Callisto was the only one that my body was truly intimate with. They would burrow out a private nest among the pillows, slink away to some shadowed corner booth or in one case, cradle each other in the arms of the statue that dominated the hall where everyone could see, but none could reach.
Callisto was the first and only person my body invited back to my own apartment, and while I raged at this latest invasion of my privacy and trespass on my life, I could not overcome the excitement burning through my body as it gave Callisto a tour of my meagre dwellings.
Unlike Artemis, Callisto did not sneer. She had eyes only for her lover, and it wasn’t long before they were tumbling naked onto my bed.
I had invited some promising suitors to my apartment in the past, and in exceptional cases had invited them to spend the night in my bed, but I had experienced nothing like the overwhelming passion these creatures felt for each other. As they lay panting in the dim lamplight, gazing into each other’s eyes, I had to remind myself that the sensation of joyous fulfilment welling up in my heart was not my own, and that the gorgeous woman leaning in to press her lips against mine was not my lover, but a concubine to the foul thing that wore my face and had stolen my life.
It was perhaps six months since losing control of myself that I arrived as accustomed to the hotel banquet to find Callisto waiting for me but unaccountably nervous, as though she had suddenly shrunk in on herself and lost all sense of confidence.
She approached me with uncharacteristic trepidation and in a quavering voice spoke the name Artemis, as though unsure if I was still being controlled.
The thing wearing my face smiled, but not with the warmth or affection I had come to expect. It was a sinister smile. A predatory smile. And, like a predator, she drew Callisto into her arms and flung her to the floor before pouncing on top of her while the crowd roared with laughter.
Artemis seemed to have grown weary of her lover, and I felt my blood surge in unwanted excitement as I watched the horror of realisation drawn on Callisto’s face. I felt her body squirm beneath my weight as she cried out in pain and fear, begging for forgiveness as my hands roughly tore at her clothes. Despite her protestations, she was fully erect beneath her skirt and my body laughed at her humiliation as it brought her struggling upright, exposing her shame to the mocking throng.
I had never pictured Callisto as being possessed of physical or mental strength, and my suspicions were confirmed as the poor girl hung helplessly from one arm gripped by my own hand while my other jerked her roughly to climax.
She moaned piteously as she emptied her soul onto the marble floor, and when thrown to her knees and ordered to clean it with her mouth, she did so without resistance, weeping such that her tears mingled with her seed on the floor.
That was the last time I saw Callisto while deprived of control. I remember taking on new lovers to varying degrees of intimacy, but any memory of names or faces have been pulled clean from my mind.
My impression of the six months that followed were simply of the same routine: Appear as normal during the day, lascivious pursuits by night punctuated by weekends of debauchery.
It was with a genuine sense of shock that one morning I woke up to find that my body did not rise from my bed of its own accord, nor did it leap to the mirror to admire itself. Instead, it lay listlessly in bed, staring at the ceiling.
With a great effort of will, reforging the connection from months of disuse, I raised my hand up to my face.
My body was my own once more.
*
I did not cheer, I did not even smile. I realised that despite my freedom, I had somehow not recovered control of my body. Even the steady rise and fall of my breast was automatic, and I could neither slow nor hold my breath.
It took several frustrating minutes just to move my eyes and turn my head. Moving my limbs felt like swimming in mud, and I would have cried from the effort if I could only remember how.
I could not stand. I could barely raise myself on all fours, the softness of the mattress causing me to lose what little balance I could muster. It was not until I heard the chime of my phone that I realised I had spent several hours simply trying to get out of bed.
Mercifully, my phone was close to hand, and while the first two calls failed before I could reach it, I was able to answer the third.
“Angie, where are you? It’s almost midday!”
I recognised the voice as my supervisor. Thanks to my artificially improved performance, I was her star employee, and her concern at my sudden absence was clear in her voice.
“Hrrn,” I said, my throat thick and my tongue sluggish.
“Angie? Are you there?”
“Heeln,” I managed, my vision swimming with the effort.
“Oh my God, Angie. Are you okay?”
“Herlp. Mrr.” It was all I could think of saying.
“Oh, God. Oh, God, Angie you stay where you are, I’m going to get help.”
It was a thin silver lining of my possession. Possibly Artemis had intended it from the start: That the person charged with contacting me from work would also be kind enough not simply to worry, but also to act if she thought I was in danger. No doubt she believed I was suffering some kind of medical emergency, though she could never have guessed the truth.
I soon found myself in hospital, where I was diagnosed with a sudden onset neurological disorder. The doctors had come to that conclusion after many frustrated attempts to quantify my condition via their many scans and tests. They suggested more out of hope than certainty that my condition would improve with rest and gradual physical therapy.
I wasn’t about to correct them. Not simply because of my inability to speak or write, but also because they would most definitely have deemed me insane as well as crippled.
Their prognosis proved sound, despite their ignorance. Over the course of the next four weeks, I gradually regained the use of my own body thanks to the patience of the staff assigned to me. It was maddeningly tedious, frustrating work, but by the end of the month I was able to walk unassisted out of the hospital to the taxi that was waiting for me.
For a moment I thought I might recognise the driver, or that they might recognise me. I had already come to the realisation that my memories had been tampered with, but if I perhaps mumbled something in the correct tone with enough confidence, would he still think me under Artemis’ control?
I gave my address and went home.
After that, my life fell apart. As predicted, I could not match the workplace performance Artemis had given while wearing my body, and what began as sympathy for my recent hospitalisation turned to frustration at my inability to recover.
Compounding my poor state of mind was the persistent sensation of emptiness that stole over me in the night: The feeling that I should be wrapped in the arms of another, gorging myself on their scent and sweat instead of languishing alone in the coldness of solitude.
Weeks passed one after the other with not only a failure to improve but the bitter void within me growing deeper with every passing night. I would dream of Callisto’s tear-stained face and wake up begging for forgiveness.
I entertained the idea of returning to the hotel, to the crucible of sin I had been forced to spend a year of my life, but the fantasy of what would happen on my arrival grew increasingly deranged. No arm of the law could be trusted to stand against the men who had taken advantage of my body while I was possessed, and even if I could somehow fool the guards into thinking I was still being controlled, what could I hope to achieve upon my return?
Despite this, I found myself helplessly drawn to the street outside the hotel in the safety of daylight, trapped at the periphery, both hoping and dreading being seen and recognised.
It was there, nine months after last laying eyes on her, that I saw Callisto.
I did not call out, but instead ran with a silent desperation to catch up to her as she moved through the crowd. The sound of my footsteps drew her attention, and she turned just as I drew close enough to reach out and grab her.
The look of sudden terror on her face caused my heart to sink, but her expression quickly turned to one of confusion as she clearly saw the difference in my nature since our last meeting.
“You,” she said, with none of the fear I remembered in her voice. “You’re not Artemis, are you?”
It was in that moment that I felt the ground tilt beneath me, a sudden dizziness claiming my mind as I came to terms with the implications of her question.
A pair of arms grabbed me, not unkindly but without unwarranted tenderness. I looked into eyes I had been made to fall in love with against my will, and saw another soul behind them.
She wasn’t Callisto. She never had been. Just as the thing that answered to the name Artemis had worn me as its meat puppet, a creature that called itself Callisto had worn her.
The horror must have shown in my expression, because hers softened as one who had experienced the same loss and revelation.
She embraced me then, and I held onto her as though she were the only real thing in the world: Two lovers deprived of their souls.
We found ourselves at a nearby cafe sometime later, recounting the circumstances of our respective capture, speculating how it was done and pointedly pretending not to know any intimate details of the other’s anatomy.
Her name was Christina, and after what seemed like much internal debate, she asked if I wanted to go back.
I was horrified at the suggestion, bringing up her own mistreatment as reason never to return, but she admitted that even after her rejection and humiliation at my hands under Artemis’ control, she had continued attending other venues to indulge her carnal impulses, describing the same cold hollowness that had robbed me of sleep for so many nights.
I told her that I would need some time to think about it, and in the dying light of the setting sun, she offered to walk me home.
She did not in fact remember my address from her evening with Artemis - Callisto having robbed her of the memory - but her face lit up in recognition when I let her into my apartment. Neither of us needed to say that she had never intended to simply walk me home, and after a brief moment of awkwardness, we found ourselves in each other’s arms once again, though for the first time of our own volition.
The lovemaking was… awkward. Neither of us possessed the confidence, nor ravenous hunger for the other that the creatures controlling us had possessed, but there was a sincerity to the moment we shared that was entirely unique.
My body still remembered the shape of her as she pushed herself into me, hesitant despite the countless times we had rutted with abandon in the past. There were no heroic thrusts, no cries of triumph or ecstasy; just a pair of stringless puppets filling the hole in one another’s lives.
*
We returned to the hotel the next morning. My life was beyond recovery, and Christina seemed to have given up on her own.
The true extent of her despair did not dawn on me until I witnessed the familiarity with which she was greeted by the denizens of the grand hall. A familiarity that betrayed the fact that she had in fact already returned, possibly while I was still possessed and that the memory of seeing her again had simply been erased from my mind.
Too numb with shock to resist, I found myself being led first by Christina but soon by the entire congregation, shepherding and pulling and lifting me up to the feet of the statue where two figures lay draped in its arms.
Despite wearing new faces, I recognised their expressions at once. Artemis and Callisto leered down at us: Two discarded skins now returned to their lair.
Through a haze of terror I heard Christina praise their names and claimed me as her other half in the coming sacrifice. I had no knowledge of what she was speaking of, but whatever horror lay in store for me seemed a fitting start to yet another nightmare.
The body of the woman Artemis now wore sniffed, looking down at me with scorn. She wondered aloud if I had actually been informed of the coming ritual, chastising Christina with a reminder that the sacrifice must be voluntary or the coming rite would fail.
Christina turned to me then, an anguished hope in her eyes.
We could still be together. Not as Callisto and Artemis, not as Christina and Angela, but as the new souls that would be summoned from beyond the void to fill our vessels and once again give purpose to our lives.
We had tasted the joy of subjugation, and would remain forever desolate if we continued to obstinately exist without a master.
She had deceived me. By omission and by trickery, she had deceived me into returning here, but on this she spoke truly. She knew I had felt the emptiness within me as surely as my own warm heart had been plucked from my chest - and emptiness she had been forced to suffer half a year longer than I. I saw in her desperation what I could become if I refused.
I agreed, though neither the triumphant roar of the throng nor the tight, grateful embrace Christina gave me assuaged my fear.
There was no drinking of blood or reading of entrails, no sonorous gong or ringing of bells. It happened in an instant. No sooner had Christina tearfully released me than I felt the shiver run through me once more.
It was different this time: Where a year ago, it had felt like stepping through a sheet of frigid water, now it was like a distant pattering of freezing droplets raining down on me, first as a trickle but gradually growing into a flood.
In my soul I knew what the difference was: Over a year ago, I had been assaulted by the will of some foul spirit that already commanded a foothold in our world. Now some new demon was being called, called from across the infinite planes of space to its new home in my mortal shell.
In my terror, I considered resisting, but it was already too late. I gasped as the mist filled me - the last action I would ever make with my own body. I felt the rivulets of ice spread from my chest into my spine, splitting into countless fine hairs that ran along my arms and legs into hands, feet, fingers and toes. I felt the cold reach up into my neck, my skull, my face and finally, my mind. I felt it dig its cold claws into every inch of me before wresting control like an apple plucked from the tree.
I felt full. I felt whole. I felt my face break into a lascivious smile, mirrored on the face of what was no longer Christina as we stood, still with our arms around each other.
As the beings controlling us sealed their dominion over our bodies with a kiss, I felt Christina’s length sliding into my already slick womanhood, our bodies like virgins to the occupying souls.
As our conquered bodies rapidly reached climax, I felt the invading spirit settle over mine completely and knew with terrible certainty that this one would never let go.
1
5.3K
4
1
It's not easy to bargain with demons, which Eddie discovers the hard way after he escapes death by trading his soul to the demon Azir, a handsome and charming resident of Hell. Azir promises to return Eddie's soul in exchange for allowing demons the use of his body for their own amusement. It's the last deal he wants to make, but if he wants to save his soul, it may be his only choice.
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. “All you have to do is take my hand and give me your soul.”
My eyes widened, a shiver of terror racing through my body. The only creatures who collected souls were demons.
He smiled, warm and charming. “Relax, Eddie, I won’t take your soul as long as you’re using it. Think of this like a lien. You keep your soul until you die, and then it comes to us, assuming you haven’t earned it back, of course. What do you say? Better think quick—time is running out.”
I could feel the blood pooling in my chest, restricting my heart and filling my lungs. I didn’t want to die, but losing my soul to a demon would be worse. However, if there was a chance to earn it back, then I could have it both ways. I could live and keep my soul.
Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in my broken body, I raised my hand, a scream of agony escaping my bloody lips as the splinters of bone protruding through my flesh shifted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the demon said, grabbing my hand. Instantly, the pain vanished and I gasped as he pulled my to my feet. I looked down at myself in shock. The blood was gone. No bones were broken. It was like I’d never been hit. I turned to look at the car that had struck me, the hood crumpled where it had come to rest against a tree, steam issuing from the engine. I could see the driver, face down in the deflated airbag and not moving.
“Are they all right?” I asked, taking an unsteady step toward the car.
“Eddie,” the demon said, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away. “That guy nearly killed you. Who cares how he’s doing?”
I shrugged his arm off. “I do.”
The demon sighed. “Of course you do. He’ll be fine. A bit of a concussion and some bruised ribs. Oh, and one hell of a hangover. He’s more than a little drunk. Does that affect your concern for his well-being?”
I hesitated. “Maybe a little.”
“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hang on,” I said as he turned to leave. “You said I could earn my soul back. How do I do that?”
“Why should I tell you?” he replied. “If you don’t succeed, we get your soul, so how is it in my best interest to help you?”
He had me there. I could only watch, helpless, as he walked away. He only took a few steps, though, before he paused and glanced back, his flickering gaze traveling slowly down my body.
“You’re a handsome guy,” he said, making me shudder and wonder, how far would I go to save my soul? However, his next question surprised me. “How do you feel about demonic possession?”
“Excuse me? Is there more than one way to feel about demonic possession?”
My savior laughed, a rich, melodious sound. “Let me rephrase. What do you know about it?”
I shrugged. “The usual, I guess. A demon takes over a person and makes them do terrible things, with the intent to steal their soul.”
He made an ambiguous gesture with his hand. “Close enough.” Up the street, a siren screamed to life, the night lighting up with red and blue lights as an ambulance finally appeared. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we have to answer a lot of tedious questions.”
I felt awkward leaving the scene of an accident, but I supposed he was right. If I stayed, I would only have to lie, or risk being tossed into the psych ward. After all, only crazy people claimed to have been saved from death by a demon. We hurried down the street and around a corner.
“Okay, here’s the quick and dirty version,” the demon said. “True possessions are very rare, because there are few demons powerful enough to inhabit an unwilling human. I’m not, and I’m a third tier demon, so you get the idea. So, most ‘possessions’ are either lunatics or sociopaths working on their insanity defense. However, even a lowly sixth tier imp can inhabit a willing body temporarily. The hard part is finding someone willing to share.”
He gave me a pointed look and I stopped dead as I realized what he was hinting at.
“Wait, I’m supposed let you possess me?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re going to let a bunch of my demon lackeys possess you. You see,” he continued as I stared at him in horror, “when a demon takes corporeal form, the experience is severely limited. We can see and hear, and have the most basic sense of touch, but no smell or taste, and we don’t feel pleasure or pain. And the worst part is this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down to mid-thigh.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of his smooth, featureless groin. He had no cock, no balls, nothing.
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected this was His doing,” the demon grumbled, pulling his pants back up. “So, Eddie, I’m sure you imagine how appealing it would be for one of us to take a joyride in a sexy hot rod like you. I’d like to offer the use of your body to a few of my most dedicated underlings. Perhaps it will even motivate the slackers to do better.”
“The use of my...to do what with?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Eat pizza and ice cream, get a massage, have sex. Nothing illegal, nothing that will harm you or anyone else. I’ll only offer this privilege to responsible demons, ones that I know will follow my rules.”
“So...so, I just...let them in and then wake up in a couple of days in bed with someone I’ve never met before?”
“Wow, you are so quick to think the worst of us,” the demon said, shaking his head. “You would be completely aware of everything that was happening. You could tune it out, of course, if you wanted to. And you could take back control at any time. However, booting one of my demons after less than...let’s say two hours, won’t count toward erasing our claim on your soul.”
“So, if I agree to this, I get my soul back?” I asked. The demon nodded. “How many is a few?”
“Oh, just a hundred or so,” he said. I started to shake my head, to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it this way—two hours a day, and in less than four months, your soul will be yours again, free and clear. It seems like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your body they’ll be abusing,” I grumbled.
“Very true,” the demon said. “But then, I don’t have a body, just this worthless rental unit, so...” He stopped walking and regarded me with his flickering eyes. “Say, how about a quick test drive? That way, you can see what it would be like before you decide.”
I hesitated. “Who would I be letting in? You?”
“Sure. Why not? I did save your life, after all.”
This was such a bad idea. “Okay, but not here. I want to be home for this.”
The demon smiled and gestured behind me. I turned, surprised to see that we were standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I hadn’t even noticed where we were walking.
“Shall we?” the demon asked, motioning for me to lead the way.
I swallowed hard. “First, I need to know one thing. What’s your name?”
The demon narrowed his eyes. “Why? Do you think you can control me if you know my name?”
“No, I’d just like to know what to call you,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Sort of,” he replied evasively. “A sufficiently powerful witch who has trained extensively in the dark arts and demonology could use a demon’s name to control them, so we tend to be a little careful with such information.”
“Understandable, I guess,” I said, shivering as a gust of wind bit through my thin jacket. I headed for the house, digging my keys out of my pocket as I climbed the steps up to the porch. “I’m not a witch, nor do I know any witches, but if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I’d like to call you something, though. Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” I stopped to unlock my front door.
He snorted, and I realized just how close he was, standing right behind me. “You really don’t know anything about demons, do you? I don’t have any friends. But if you insist, you can call me...Azir.”
“Azir will work,” I said, shoving open the door and hurrying inside to put a bit of distance between us. He followed, shutting the door and turning on the entryway light. “So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“Maybe in a minute, once I’m able to taste it,” Azir said, backing me up against the wall. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as the demon’s hands pressed against my chest, his face inches from my own. He smiled, slow and amused. “This is a lot like sex, Eddie—you have to relax and let me in.” Azir leaned closer, his breath cold against my cheek as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him. Part of me was screaming that he was a fucking demon, of course he couldn’t be trusted, but for some reason, I seemed to remember hearing that demons couldn’t lie. They could trick and deceive, but they could not tell an outright lie. Or maybe that was just something I saw on television. Either way, I had only two choices, and neither one appealed.
I could tell him to get lost, and spend the rest of my life knowing that my soul was doomed to hell, or I could surrender and let him have me. After a moment, I took a bracing breath and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I made myself relax, trying to trust that, even if a demon couldn’t be trusted, at the very least he wouldn’t do anything to make me call off the deal.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by a warm pressure in my chest, like I had swallowed hot soup too fast. As it passed, my eyes opened and I was surprised to find Azir gone. I started to look around, to see where he had gone, but my head wouldn’t turn. I tried to raise my arm, but it wouldn’t move. I was no longer in control of my body.
My body gasped and my hands rose up to touch my face, fingers tracing my lips and sliding back through my hair.
“Oh, this is amazing,” Azir said in my voice, my lips moving without without my consent. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. He stepped away from the wall, my hands wandering down my body, feeling the texture of my jacket. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind him. I wanted to pick it up and hang it in the closet, but he walked away, wandering through the house just touching stuff. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“You must live alone,” he murmured, picking up a bottle of ketchup and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. He opened the ketchup and sniffed the contents, then licked the inside of the lid. He made an appreciative noise and set it down, then unwrapped the cheese and nibbled on the corner.
There’s beer in the crisper drawer, I thought to myself.
“Really? Thanks,” Azir said, setting the cheese down and opening the drawer.
Wait, you can hear me? I asked.
“Hear might not be the right word,” he replied, picking up a bottle of my favorite IPA and twisting off the cap. “I know what you’re thinking, the same way you do. It’s kind of weird.” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhhh, I’ve always wondered what beer tasted like. Now I know.” He set the bottle on the counter and headed out of the room.
So, are you just going to make a mess of my house? I asked. That’s not what I expected from a demonic possession.
“Would you rather I find some virgin to disembowel?” Azir asked with a grin as he started up the stairs.
No! Of course not, I said. I guess I just thought you’d do more.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” the demon said. He entered my bedroom and pawed through my closet, smelling the fabric softener and rubbing his cheek against one of my softer shirts. His gaze lingered on the bed, but he walked into the adjoining bathroom instead, tasting the toothpaste and mouthwash. “Mmmm, that’s better than the beer,” he said and took another sip.
You’re supposed to spit that out, I told him. Don’t go making me sick.
He grunted his displeasure, but leaned over the sink and spat out the mouthwash. He sniffed my deodorant and aftershave, and then opened the door of the shower stall.
Nothing in here is edible, I said, hoping to prevent him from tasting the soap. He just turned on the water, letting the spray patter against my hand as he adjusted the temperature. Stepping back from the stall, he began to remove my clothes. What are you doing?
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Azir said, my voice muffled as he stripped my shirt off over my head. Steam began to fill the room and I cringed inwardly, imagining the black mold beginning to grow in the corners.
Could you at least turn on the exhaust fan? I asked. He obliged, flipping the switch before shoving my jeans and boxers down around my ankles and stepping out of them. Nude, he admired my reflection in the mirror. It was bizarre: even though it was my body, my face, I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
The demon dressed in my flesh stepped into the shower, groaning low and long as the hot water cascaded over my skin.
“Azrael was right,” he said, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “This is positively sinful.” He turned a slow circle, savoring the pounding spray, and I realized with no small amount of horror that my body was reacting to his enjoyment. I was getting a hard-on.
Okay, test drive is over, get outta my body, I said.
“Make me,” he moaned, running slippery hands down my smooth, flat abs, toward my stiffening cock. That’s when I knew he had tricked me. I had forgotten to ask how to get him out.
Begone, demon! I thought forcefully, imagining myself physically shoving him out of my body. He just laughed.
“That tickles,” he said. “So does this.” He faced the shower, letting the spray dance over my hard cock. “What a surprisingly sensitive organ,” he said, wrapping a hand around my shaft and giving it a long, slow stroke. I felt so dirty, so violated.
Stop it, please, I begged him. I never agreed to let you use my body for this.
“Did you really think all I was going to do was taste your food and sniff your deodorant?” he asked. “This is part of the deal and you better get used to the idea. Now just relax and enjoy the ride, and don’t pretend like you’ve never done this before.”
It’s different when I do it, I responded, my thought-voice small and defeated. What had I done? I was at the mercy of a being of pure evil, trapped inside my own body until God only knew when. What if he never gave it back? Was this his plan all along?
“Your fussing in there is very distracting,” Azir said. “I told you to relax. When I’m done, you can have your body back, don’t worry. And by the way, that whole mental push-thing you did, that would have kicked a lesser demon clear to the curb. I just happen to be strong enough to resist. Not strong enough to come in uninvited, but once I’m in...Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” He began to stroke my cock faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
I wanted to tune this out, but I had forgotten to ask how to do that, either. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave him alone with my body. I could feel the pleasure gathering in my groin, hot and heavy, my breath coming faster as he neared climax. At least it would be over soon.
Azir gasped, grunting as my muscles tightened, my balls drawing up as I dumped my load. He staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Wow, I had no idea,” he panted. He rinsed the cum from my skin, then shut off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, he grabbed a towel off the shelf in the corner and began to dry my body.
Satisfied now? I asked. Can I have my body back?
“I said when I’m done,” Azir replied, dropping the damp towel on the floor with my discarded clothes. He walked into the bedroom stark naked, the air raising goosebumps on my wet skin. “I don’t suppose you have any toys in here?”
Absolutely not! I said, but if I’d had control of my body, my gaze would have darted to the nightstand beside the bed. I guess Azir could feel it, because he made a beeline for the little drawer. That’s not mine, I said as he pulled out the drawer.
He chuckled as he picked up the slender, bright blue, cock-shaped vibrator. “I suppose the previous tenant left this behind and you just couldn’t throw it out in case they came back for it. Look, how thoughtful. They left some lube behind, too.”
My girlfriend bought those, I said.
“Aww, were you really that bad in bed, that she needed battery-operated assistance?”
No, she wanted to use it on me, I snapped. I said no and she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. We had a fight and I called her a twisted pervert and she left. That was six months ago. Okay, maybe I had over-reacted to her request, but she was just too aggressive. I had never even thought about doing something like that, and I needed time to get used to the idea. Would I have come around eventually? I don’t know. I kept the stuff, didn’t I? Even though I never touched it after she called me a prude and walked out.
“Boy, oh boy, my night just keeps getting better,” Azir said, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and flopping down across my bed. He stretched and writhed, rubbing my bare skin against the cool, soft comforter. “I don’t know which I like more, your sense of taste, or your sense of touch. There’s something so sensual about all this tactile stimulation.”
I hadn’t really thought about what he’d told me before, about how a demon’s senses were muted or absent, but his obvious enjoyment of something as simple as rubbing against a blanket made me consider what an empty existence it must be. No scent, no flavor, no pleasure. Considering that, I could hardly blame him for masturbating a little. Or a lot, for that matter. He could have been doing things a whole lot worse.
Go ahead, I thought with a sigh. I won’t pretend to like it, but I also won’t complain.
“Really?” Azir said, going still as he raised my head.
Yeah, just...just don’t hurt me, okay? As soon as I thought the words, I wished I could take it back. Admitting my weakness and fear to a demon was probably the dumbest thing I could have done in that situation. But again, Azir surprised me.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, and I was again left to wonder if demons were capable of lying. He sat up, leaning back against my padded headboard, my knees bent and legs spread. That alone would have been enough to make me blush. I wasn’t a prude, but I was certainly more modest than that.
The crinkle of plastic filled the silent bedroom as Azir removed the seal from the bottle of lubricant. I watched nervously as he drizzled the thick, clear gel onto my fingers. He reached down between my legs and began to smear the gel between my cheeks, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he rubbed a small circle around my opening. I will admit, it felt better than I had expected.
Azir took his time preparing me, though I didn’t know if that was for his benefit, or mine. I supposed it didn’t matter. He added more lube to his fingers and slipped two of them inside of me, spreading the gel and stretching that tight ring of muscle. That felt good, too, although I did my best to hide that fact from him.
Finally, he slathered the blue silicone surface of the vibrator with lube until it was slick and shiny, stroking it like a real cock as the fat, rubber balls at the base jiggled. My own cock was hard again, but Azir ignored it, reaching down behind my balls instead and guiding the tip of the vibrator to my opening.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, heels digging into the bed as he pushed back against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, yes.” I couldn’t believe how easily that rubber cock slid into my asshole, my muscles gripping, pulling it deeper. It was a strange feeling, but nothing like I had expected. Azir eased it in about halfway before stopping to let us catch our breath.
That’s deep enough, right? I asked. He didn’t answer. Right?
“Tell me, Eddie,” he said, breathless, “if you had just one night to live, would you only go halfway?” I had no answer for him. I suppose after experiencing the full range of human senses, the thought of returning to his demonic existence must have been like facing death. Was I crazy, feeling pity for a damned demon?
After giving my body a minute to relax and adjust, Azir slid the vibrator in to the hilt, the soft, silicone balls squishing against my ass. I felt full in a way I had never imagined, that rubber cock snug inside of me, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal. Not until Azir turned on the vibrator.
He gasped, my body arching, as the cock began to buzz inside of us. “Oh, shit...Oh, fuck...” he panted, rocking my hips until he found just the right angle. The vibrator pressed against my prostate and I saw stars, my cock jerking as it grew rock hard. I had never felt anything so wonderful, so intensely pleasurable, the vibrations filling me with a deep, aching need to cum. If it had been me, I would have immediately jerked off, but Azir had other ideas.
Reaching up above my head, he grabbed onto the headboard, breath hissing between my teeth as he pressed down into the bed to keep the vibrator in place deep inside of me. My cock quivered, beads of precum leaking from the tip, tickling my sensitive flesh it trickled down the head, and I suddenly realized just how helpless I had let myself become. I couldn’t even stroke my own cock. I was completely at the mercy of this horny demon...and I had never felt more alive.
Oh, Azir, please… I begged, the pleasure nearly unbearable as my neglected cock throbbed with need. Just a single stoke would have finished me, but he dug my fingers into the headboard until my hands ached, my room echoing with his breathless cries.
“Almost...almost there...Come on...” he panted, my whole body shaking. I wanted to cum so bad I even tried shoving him out of me again. It didn’t do anything, except make him laugh. “Nice try. You almost got me with that one. Just hang on a little more. Oh...Oh, fuck, yes!”
I cried out with him as the climax thundered through us, my muscles contracting, drawing the vibrator deeper as my balls drew up. My cock jerked like a puppet on a string as we striped my comforter with long, satisfying strands of cum. I can honestly say it was the best orgasm of my life, up to that point. When it was finally over, the vibrations against my prostate became truly unbearable, even for him, and he quickly turned it off and gently slid it out.
Exhausted and trembling, he slouched against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked after a minute. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. He sighed. “All right, just like I promised, you can have your body back now.” I thought that might be an invitation to help him along, but before I could even try, I felt that dizziness again. I reached up and touched my head, then jerked my hand back and stared at it. I wiggled my fingers, relieved when they moved at my command.
Azir chuckled and I glanced beside me, where he lay stretched out on my bed, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. I was still stark naked, of course, and I felt the heat rush to my face. Trying to salvage some scrap of my dignity, I got up and walked to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of boxers to put on, but I could feel the lube between my cheeks. I needed a shower. Maybe several showers.
“Well?” Azir asked as I headed for the bathroom. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I do need an answer. Which will it be, your body or your soul?”
I busied myself with picking up the discarded clothes from the floor while I tried to come up with a third option, but there wasn’t one. I was well and truly fucked. I heard a noise and glanced up to find Azir standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me, a smug, sort of wistful smile on his face.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was just thinking,” he said, giving his head a slow shake. “I’m almost six thousand years old, and I can honestly say that this was the best night of my existence. Thank you, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I grumbled grudgingly, but in a strange way, that was gratifying to hear. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining. “Do you promise that they won’t hurt me, or use me to hurt anyone else?”
“You have my word,” Azir said.
“And no more than one demon a day? I have a life, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with a slight smirk, as if he didn’t believe me. “Don’t worry, we can work around your busy schedule. Any other concerns?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do we have a deal?” There was a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as Azir held out his hand to me. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t lose my soul. Of the two, this was the better option. I hoped.
“Yeah, it’s a deal,” I said, shaking his hand. A rumble like thunder filled the room, accompanied by a flash of darkness, like the light suddenly dimmed, and I felt a sharp, hot pain in the palm of my hand. I jerked away from Azir as the smell of sulfur tainted the air. “What did you do?”
“It’s just a demon’s mark,” he said with a careless wave of his hand.
I looked down at my palm, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of a glowing pentagram flickering like a live coal beneath my skin. “This wasn’t part of the deal! How am I going to explain this?”
“Relax, would you?” Azir said. “Regular humans won’t be able to see it. It’s only detectable to demons and those touched by the dark arts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it for?”
“It’s proof of my claim on you,” Azir said, holding up a hand to forestall my next outraged protest, “and before you blow a gasket, it’s temporary. As soon as you pay your debt, it will disappear. But until then, it will serve as a warning to others that you belong to me.”
“I do not belong to you,” I said, my voice low. Azir just smiled, a flash of teeth that was both charming and sinister. Before I could say anything else, a column of fire surged up from the floor, engulfing Azir. It only lasted a moment, and when it disappeared, so did he.
Alone, I was suddenly hit by the magnitude of what I had done. I made a deal with a demon! I was damned, my soul destined for Hell unless I managed to earn it back, but doing so would probably corrupt me beyond redemption, anyway. I was completely fucked.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, closing my eyes, “what have I done?”
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?” The voice was soft and smooth, neither masculine nor feminine, and I looked up to find a person of indeterminate gender standing in the doorway. They had glossy black hair that fell in loose curls to their collar and pale blue eyes that were almost colorless. They wore long, flowing white robes under shiny silver and gold chain mail, with Roman-looking sandals on their feet. However, it was the iridescent glow and the giant white wings behind their back that nearly made my heart stop.
The angel gave me a reproachful look. “You are in a world of trouble, Edward.”
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. “All you have to do is take my hand and give me your soul.”
My eyes widened, a shiver of terror racing through my body. The only creatures who collected souls were demons.
He smiled, warm and charming. “Relax, Eddie, I won’t take your soul as long as you’re using it. Think of this like a lien. You keep your soul until you die, and then it comes to us, assuming you haven’t earned it back, of course. What do you say? Better think quick—time is running out.”
I could feel the blood pooling in my chest, restricting my heart and filling my lungs. I didn’t want to die, but losing my soul to a demon would be worse. However, if there was a chance to earn it back, then I could have it both ways. I could live and keep my soul.
Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in my broken body, I raised my hand, a scream of agony escaping my bloody lips as the splinters of bone protruding through my flesh shifted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the demon said, grabbing my hand. Instantly, the pain vanished and I gasped as he pulled my to my feet. I looked down at myself in shock. The blood was gone. No bones were broken. It was like I’d never been hit. I turned to look at the car that had struck me, the hood crumpled where it had come to rest against a tree, steam issuing from the engine. I could see the driver, face down in the deflated airbag and not moving.
“Are they all right?” I asked, taking an unsteady step toward the car.
“Eddie,” the demon said, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away. “That guy nearly killed you. Who cares how he’s doing?”
I shrugged his arm off. “I do.”
The demon sighed. “Of course you do. He’ll be fine. A bit of a concussion and some bruised ribs. Oh, and one hell of a hangover. He’s more than a little drunk. Does that affect your concern for his well-being?”
I hesitated. “Maybe a little.”
“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hang on,” I said as he turned to leave. “You said I could earn my soul back. How do I do that?”
“Why should I tell you?” he replied. “If you don’t succeed, we get your soul, so how is it in my best interest to help you?”
He had me there. I could only watch, helpless, as he walked away. He only took a few steps, though, before he paused and glanced back, his flickering gaze traveling slowly down my body.
“You’re a handsome guy,” he said, making me shudder and wonder, how far would I go to save my soul? However, his next question surprised me. “How do you feel about demonic possession?”
“Excuse me? Is there more than one way to feel about demonic possession?”
My savior laughed, a rich, melodious sound. “Let me rephrase. What do you know about it?”
I shrugged. “The usual, I guess. A demon takes over a person and makes them do terrible things, with the intent to steal their soul.”
He made an ambiguous gesture with his hand. “Close enough.” Up the street, a siren screamed to life, the night lighting up with red and blue lights as an ambulance finally appeared. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we have to answer a lot of tedious questions.”
I felt awkward leaving the scene of an accident, but I supposed he was right. If I stayed, I would only have to lie, or risk being tossed into the psych ward. After all, only crazy people claimed to have been saved from death by a demon. We hurried down the street and around a corner.
“Okay, here’s the quick and dirty version,” the demon said. “True possessions are very rare, because there are few demons powerful enough to inhabit an unwilling human. I’m not, and I’m a third tier demon, so you get the idea. So, most ‘possessions’ are either lunatics or sociopaths working on their insanity defense. However, even a lowly sixth tier imp can inhabit a willing body temporarily. The hard part is finding someone willing to share.”
He gave me a pointed look and I stopped dead as I realized what he was hinting at.
“Wait, I’m supposed let you possess me?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re going to let a bunch of my demon lackeys possess you. You see,” he continued as I stared at him in horror, “when a demon takes corporeal form, the experience is severely limited. We can see and hear, and have the most basic sense of touch, but no smell or taste, and we don’t feel pleasure or pain. And the worst part is this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down to mid-thigh.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of his smooth, featureless groin. He had no cock, no balls, nothing.
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected this was His doing,” the demon grumbled, pulling his pants back up. “So, Eddie, I’m sure you imagine how appealing it would be for one of us to take a joyride in a sexy hot rod like you. I’d like to offer the use of your body to a few of my most dedicated underlings. Perhaps it will even motivate the slackers to do better.”
“The use of my...to do what with?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Eat pizza and ice cream, get a massage, have sex. Nothing illegal, nothing that will harm you or anyone else. I’ll only offer this privilege to responsible demons, ones that I know will follow my rules.”
“So...so, I just...let them in and then wake up in a couple of days in bed with someone I’ve never met before?”
“Wow, you are so quick to think the worst of us,” the demon said, shaking his head. “You would be completely aware of everything that was happening. You could tune it out, of course, if you wanted to. And you could take back control at any time. However, booting one of my demons after less than...let’s say two hours, won’t count toward erasing our claim on your soul.”
“So, if I agree to this, I get my soul back?” I asked. The demon nodded. “How many is a few?”
“Oh, just a hundred or so,” he said. I started to shake my head, to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it this way—two hours a day, and in less than four months, your soul will be yours again, free and clear. It seems like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your body they’ll be abusing,” I grumbled.
“Very true,” the demon said. “But then, I don’t have a body, just this worthless rental unit, so...” He stopped walking and regarded me with his flickering eyes. “Say, how about a quick test drive? That way, you can see what it would be like before you decide.”
I hesitated. “Who would I be letting in? You?”
“Sure. Why not? I did save your life, after all.”
This was such a bad idea. “Okay, but not here. I want to be home for this.”
The demon smiled and gestured behind me. I turned, surprised to see that we were standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I hadn’t even noticed where we were walking.
“Shall we?” the demon asked, motioning for me to lead the way.
I swallowed hard. “First, I need to know one thing. What’s your name?”
The demon narrowed his eyes. “Why? Do you think you can control me if you know my name?”
“No, I’d just like to know what to call you,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Sort of,” he replied evasively. “A sufficiently powerful witch who has trained extensively in the dark arts and demonology could use a demon’s name to control them, so we tend to be a little careful with such information.”
“Understandable, I guess,” I said, shivering as a gust of wind bit through my thin jacket. I headed for the house, digging my keys out of my pocket as I climbed the steps up to the porch. “I’m not a witch, nor do I know any witches, but if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I’d like to call you something, though. Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” I stopped to unlock my front door.
He snorted, and I realized just how close he was, standing right behind me. “You really don’t know anything about demons, do you? I don’t have any friends. But if you insist, you can call me...Azir.”
“Azir will work,” I said, shoving open the door and hurrying inside to put a bit of distance between us. He followed, shutting the door and turning on the entryway light. “So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“Maybe in a minute, once I’m able to taste it,” Azir said, backing me up against the wall. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as the demon’s hands pressed against my chest, his face inches from my own. He smiled, slow and amused. “This is a lot like sex, Eddie—you have to relax and let me in.” Azir leaned closer, his breath cold against my cheek as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him. Part of me was screaming that he was a fucking demon, of course he couldn’t be trusted, but for some reason, I seemed to remember hearing that demons couldn’t lie. They could trick and deceive, but they could not tell an outright lie. Or maybe that was just something I saw on television. Either way, I had only two choices, and neither one appealed.
I could tell him to get lost, and spend the rest of my life knowing that my soul was doomed to hell, or I could surrender and let him have me. After a moment, I took a bracing breath and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I made myself relax, trying to trust that, even if a demon couldn’t be trusted, at the very least he wouldn’t do anything to make me call off the deal.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by a warm pressure in my chest, like I had swallowed hot soup too fast. As it passed, my eyes opened and I was surprised to find Azir gone. I started to look around, to see where he had gone, but my head wouldn’t turn. I tried to raise my arm, but it wouldn’t move. I was no longer in control of my body.
My body gasped and my hands rose up to touch my face, fingers tracing my lips and sliding back through my hair.
“Oh, this is amazing,” Azir said in my voice, my lips moving without without my consent. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. He stepped away from the wall, my hands wandering down my body, feeling the texture of my jacket. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind him. I wanted to pick it up and hang it in the closet, but he walked away, wandering through the house just touching stuff. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“You must live alone,” he murmured, picking up a bottle of ketchup and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. He opened the ketchup and sniffed the contents, then licked the inside of the lid. He made an appreciative noise and set it down, then unwrapped the cheese and nibbled on the corner.
There’s beer in the crisper drawer, I thought to myself.
“Really? Thanks,” Azir said, setting the cheese down and opening the drawer.
Wait, you can hear me? I asked.
“Hear might not be the right word,” he replied, picking up a bottle of my favorite IPA and twisting off the cap. “I know what you’re thinking, the same way you do. It’s kind of weird.” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhhh, I’ve always wondered what beer tasted like. Now I know.” He set the bottle on the counter and headed out of the room.
So, are you just going to make a mess of my house? I asked. That’s not what I expected from a demonic possession.
“Would you rather I find some virgin to disembowel?” Azir asked with a grin as he started up the stairs.
No! Of course not, I said. I guess I just thought you’d do more.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” the demon said. He entered my bedroom and pawed through my closet, smelling the fabric softener and rubbing his cheek against one of my softer shirts. His gaze lingered on the bed, but he walked into the adjoining bathroom instead, tasting the toothpaste and mouthwash. “Mmmm, that’s better than the beer,” he said and took another sip.
You’re supposed to spit that out, I told him. Don’t go making me sick.
He grunted his displeasure, but leaned over the sink and spat out the mouthwash. He sniffed my deodorant and aftershave, and then opened the door of the shower stall.
Nothing in here is edible, I said, hoping to prevent him from tasting the soap. He just turned on the water, letting the spray patter against my hand as he adjusted the temperature. Stepping back from the stall, he began to remove my clothes. What are you doing?
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Azir said, my voice muffled as he stripped my shirt off over my head. Steam began to fill the room and I cringed inwardly, imagining the black mold beginning to grow in the corners.
Could you at least turn on the exhaust fan? I asked. He obliged, flipping the switch before shoving my jeans and boxers down around my ankles and stepping out of them. Nude, he admired my reflection in the mirror. It was bizarre: even though it was my body, my face, I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
The demon dressed in my flesh stepped into the shower, groaning low and long as the hot water cascaded over my skin.
“Azrael was right,” he said, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “This is positively sinful.” He turned a slow circle, savoring the pounding spray, and I realized with no small amount of horror that my body was reacting to his enjoyment. I was getting a hard-on.
Okay, test drive is over, get outta my body, I said.
“Make me,” he moaned, running slippery hands down my smooth, flat abs, toward my stiffening cock. That’s when I knew he had tricked me. I had forgotten to ask how to get him out.
Begone, demon! I thought forcefully, imagining myself physically shoving him out of my body. He just laughed.
“That tickles,” he said. “So does this.” He faced the shower, letting the spray dance over my hard cock. “What a surprisingly sensitive organ,” he said, wrapping a hand around my shaft and giving it a long, slow stroke. I felt so dirty, so violated.
Stop it, please, I begged him. I never agreed to let you use my body for this.
“Did you really think all I was going to do was taste your food and sniff your deodorant?” he asked. “This is part of the deal and you better get used to the idea. Now just relax and enjoy the ride, and don’t pretend like you’ve never done this before.”
It’s different when I do it, I responded, my thought-voice small and defeated. What had I done? I was at the mercy of a being of pure evil, trapped inside my own body until God only knew when. What if he never gave it back? Was this his plan all along?
“Your fussing in there is very distracting,” Azir said. “I told you to relax. When I’m done, you can have your body back, don’t worry. And by the way, that whole mental push-thing you did, that would have kicked a lesser demon clear to the curb. I just happen to be strong enough to resist. Not strong enough to come in uninvited, but once I’m in...Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” He began to stroke my cock faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
I wanted to tune this out, but I had forgotten to ask how to do that, either. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave him alone with my body. I could feel the pleasure gathering in my groin, hot and heavy, my breath coming faster as he neared climax. At least it would be over soon.
Azir gasped, grunting as my muscles tightened, my balls drawing up as I dumped my load. He staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Wow, I had no idea,” he panted. He rinsed the cum from my skin, then shut off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, he grabbed a towel off the shelf in the corner and began to dry my body.
Satisfied now? I asked. Can I have my body back?
“I said when I’m done,” Azir replied, dropping the damp towel on the floor with my discarded clothes. He walked into the bedroom stark naked, the air raising goosebumps on my wet skin. “I don’t suppose you have any toys in here?”
Absolutely not! I said, but if I’d had control of my body, my gaze would have darted to the nightstand beside the bed. I guess Azir could feel it, because he made a beeline for the little drawer. That’s not mine, I said as he pulled out the drawer.
He chuckled as he picked up the slender, bright blue, cock-shaped vibrator. “I suppose the previous tenant left this behind and you just couldn’t throw it out in case they came back for it. Look, how thoughtful. They left some lube behind, too.”
My girlfriend bought those, I said.
“Aww, were you really that bad in bed, that she needed battery-operated assistance?”
No, she wanted to use it on me, I snapped. I said no and she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. We had a fight and I called her a twisted pervert and she left. That was six months ago. Okay, maybe I had over-reacted to her request, but she was just too aggressive. I had never even thought about doing something like that, and I needed time to get used to the idea. Would I have come around eventually? I don’t know. I kept the stuff, didn’t I? Even though I never touched it after she called me a prude and walked out.
“Boy, oh boy, my night just keeps getting better,” Azir said, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and flopping down across my bed. He stretched and writhed, rubbing my bare skin against the cool, soft comforter. “I don’t know which I like more, your sense of taste, or your sense of touch. There’s something so sensual about all this tactile stimulation.”
I hadn’t really thought about what he’d told me before, about how a demon’s senses were muted or absent, but his obvious enjoyment of something as simple as rubbing against a blanket made me consider what an empty existence it must be. No scent, no flavor, no pleasure. Considering that, I could hardly blame him for masturbating a little. Or a lot, for that matter. He could have been doing things a whole lot worse.
Go ahead, I thought with a sigh. I won’t pretend to like it, but I also won’t complain.
“Really?” Azir said, going still as he raised my head.
Yeah, just...just don’t hurt me, okay? As soon as I thought the words, I wished I could take it back. Admitting my weakness and fear to a demon was probably the dumbest thing I could have done in that situation. But again, Azir surprised me.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, and I was again left to wonder if demons were capable of lying. He sat up, leaning back against my padded headboard, my knees bent and legs spread. That alone would have been enough to make me blush. I wasn’t a prude, but I was certainly more modest than that.
The crinkle of plastic filled the silent bedroom as Azir removed the seal from the bottle of lubricant. I watched nervously as he drizzled the thick, clear gel onto my fingers. He reached down between my legs and began to smear the gel between my cheeks, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he rubbed a small circle around my opening. I will admit, it felt better than I had expected.
Azir took his time preparing me, though I didn’t know if that was for his benefit, or mine. I supposed it didn’t matter. He added more lube to his fingers and slipped two of them inside of me, spreading the gel and stretching that tight ring of muscle. That felt good, too, although I did my best to hide that fact from him.
Finally, he slathered the blue silicone surface of the vibrator with lube until it was slick and shiny, stroking it like a real cock as the fat, rubber balls at the base jiggled. My own cock was hard again, but Azir ignored it, reaching down behind my balls instead and guiding the tip of the vibrator to my opening.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, heels digging into the bed as he pushed back against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, yes.” I couldn’t believe how easily that rubber cock slid into my asshole, my muscles gripping, pulling it deeper. It was a strange feeling, but nothing like I had expected. Azir eased it in about halfway before stopping to let us catch our breath.
That’s deep enough, right? I asked. He didn’t answer. Right?
“Tell me, Eddie,” he said, breathless, “if you had just one night to live, would you only go halfway?” I had no answer for him. I suppose after experiencing the full range of human senses, the thought of returning to his demonic existence must have been like facing death. Was I crazy, feeling pity for a damned demon?
After giving my body a minute to relax and adjust, Azir slid the vibrator in to the hilt, the soft, silicone balls squishing against my ass. I felt full in a way I had never imagined, that rubber cock snug inside of me, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal. Not until Azir turned on the vibrator.
He gasped, my body arching, as the cock began to buzz inside of us. “Oh, shit...Oh, fuck...” he panted, rocking my hips until he found just the right angle. The vibrator pressed against my prostate and I saw stars, my cock jerking as it grew rock hard. I had never felt anything so wonderful, so intensely pleasurable, the vibrations filling me with a deep, aching need to cum. If it had been me, I would have immediately jerked off, but Azir had other ideas.
Reaching up above my head, he grabbed onto the headboard, breath hissing between my teeth as he pressed down into the bed to keep the vibrator in place deep inside of me. My cock quivered, beads of precum leaking from the tip, tickling my sensitive flesh it trickled down the head, and I suddenly realized just how helpless I had let myself become. I couldn’t even stroke my own cock. I was completely at the mercy of this horny demon...and I had never felt more alive.
Oh, Azir, please… I begged, the pleasure nearly unbearable as my neglected cock throbbed with need. Just a single stoke would have finished me, but he dug my fingers into the headboard until my hands ached, my room echoing with his breathless cries.
“Almost...almost there...Come on...” he panted, my whole body shaking. I wanted to cum so bad I even tried shoving him out of me again. It didn’t do anything, except make him laugh. “Nice try. You almost got me with that one. Just hang on a little more. Oh...Oh, fuck, yes!”
I cried out with him as the climax thundered through us, my muscles contracting, drawing the vibrator deeper as my balls drew up. My cock jerked like a puppet on a string as we striped my comforter with long, satisfying strands of cum. I can honestly say it was the best orgasm of my life, up to that point. When it was finally over, the vibrations against my prostate became truly unbearable, even for him, and he quickly turned it off and gently slid it out.
Exhausted and trembling, he slouched against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked after a minute. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. He sighed. “All right, just like I promised, you can have your body back now.” I thought that might be an invitation to help him along, but before I could even try, I felt that dizziness again. I reached up and touched my head, then jerked my hand back and stared at it. I wiggled my fingers, relieved when they moved at my command.
Azir chuckled and I glanced beside me, where he lay stretched out on my bed, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. I was still stark naked, of course, and I felt the heat rush to my face. Trying to salvage some scrap of my dignity, I got up and walked to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of boxers to put on, but I could feel the lube between my cheeks. I needed a shower. Maybe several showers.
“Well?” Azir asked as I headed for the bathroom. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I do need an answer. Which will it be, your body or your soul?”
I busied myself with picking up the discarded clothes from the floor while I tried to come up with a third option, but there wasn’t one. I was well and truly fucked. I heard a noise and glanced up to find Azir standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me, a smug, sort of wistful smile on his face.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was just thinking,” he said, giving his head a slow shake. “I’m almost six thousand years old, and I can honestly say that this was the best night of my existence. Thank you, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I grumbled grudgingly, but in a strange way, that was gratifying to hear. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining. “Do you promise that they won’t hurt me, or use me to hurt anyone else?”
“You have my word,” Azir said.
“And no more than one demon a day? I have a life, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with a slight smirk, as if he didn’t believe me. “Don’t worry, we can work around your busy schedule. Any other concerns?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do we have a deal?” There was a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as Azir held out his hand to me. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t lose my soul. Of the two, this was the better option. I hoped.
“Yeah, it’s a deal,” I said, shaking his hand. A rumble like thunder filled the room, accompanied by a flash of darkness, like the light suddenly dimmed, and I felt a sharp, hot pain in the palm of my hand. I jerked away from Azir as the smell of sulfur tainted the air. “What did you do?”
“It’s just a demon’s mark,” he said with a careless wave of his hand.
I looked down at my palm, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of a glowing pentagram flickering like a live coal beneath my skin. “This wasn’t part of the deal! How am I going to explain this?”
“Relax, would you?” Azir said. “Regular humans won’t be able to see it. It’s only detectable to demons and those touched by the dark arts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it for?”
“It’s proof of my claim on you,” Azir said, holding up a hand to forestall my next outraged protest, “and before you blow a gasket, it’s temporary. As soon as you pay your debt, it will disappear. But until then, it will serve as a warning to others that you belong to me.”
“I do not belong to you,” I said, my voice low. Azir just smiled, a flash of teeth that was both charming and sinister. Before I could say anything else, a column of fire surged up from the floor, engulfing Azir. It only lasted a moment, and when it disappeared, so did he.
Alone, I was suddenly hit by the magnitude of what I had done. I made a deal with a demon! I was damned, my soul destined for Hell unless I managed to earn it back, but doing so would probably corrupt me beyond redemption, anyway. I was completely fucked.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, closing my eyes, “what have I done?”
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?” The voice was soft and smooth, neither masculine nor feminine, and I looked up to find a person of indeterminate gender standing in the doorway. They had glossy black hair that fell in loose curls to their collar and pale blue eyes that were almost colorless. They wore long, flowing white robes under shiny silver and gold chain mail, with Roman-looking sandals on their feet. However, it was the iridescent glow and the giant white wings behind their back that nearly made my heart stop.
The angel gave me a reproachful look. “You are in a world of trouble, Edward.”
4
19.3K
6
2
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...
12
22.5K
48
1
A device that lets one person possess another arrives at the high school! In the dorm room after dark, the girl’s take turns experimenting with it. In this chapter, Sophie takes over Olivia and shows off her body! The girls decide to play a game with the flute, making bets about what they could do in each other's bodies, but things might get just a little bit out of hand!
“I don’t think we should be playing with that.” said Olivia. As a prefect, she always thought it was her duty to be responsible. Unfortunately, this took the form of telling us not to do anything fun. It’s a shame, because she was really quite kind otherwise.
“Shove it, Olivia!” laughed Ava, playfully. She snatched the package from Evelyn’s hands. “I want to see what it does!”
It was Christmas evening at St Clare’s School For Girls, and Evelyn had just received a parcel from her great Aunt. It had arrived quietly in the evening, separate from all the other presents, and had come with a short note, written in a flowing old-lady script.
“My dear Evelyn, this flute has been in my care for nearly a century. I’ve heard of your troubles this past year, so I loan it to you with the hope you use it wisely. Point the end of the flute at a bully and play a note to change their tune. Do not get carried away with it, girl. ~~ Mildrid”
So it was we were now we huddled in the common room, wondering what it actually did.
“We must be very careful.” warned Evelyn, “My great aunt is perhaps the most unusual woman in our family.”
Ava chucked at that. She thought that Evelyn was the most unusual woman in her family.
“We should hand it in to Professor Tumut”, said Olivia. “She’ll be able to tell us if it’s dangerous.”
“And she’d never give it back!” complained Ava, “Let’s just try playing it first, quickly, see what it does.”
“Who should we point it at?” I asked. “I don’t want to risk something bad happening to me.”
“Try it on me then!” said Ava, opening the box and handing the flute to me. “Don’t be a wuss, Sophie!”
I hesitantly took the cold brass instrument. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe Evelyn should be the first one to use it?”
I glanced at her, but she shook her head. She was as worried as I was.
“What about Charlotte?”
I looked at the ditsy girl sitting to my left.
“Me?” said Charlotte “But I don’t know how to play the flute.”
“I don’t think you need to know how.” I said “I think you can just blow across it?”
“Oh, okay.” said Charlotte, unfazed. She was pretty used to us telling her answers. Barely passing her classes, she was quite different to the rest of us. I mean, Ava failed plenty too, but that was just because she didn’t try.
Charlotte took the flute and raised it to her lips.
“Point it at Ava first!” I said nervously. Whatever this thing was going to do, I didn’t want it doing it to me.
“Oh, right, okay.”
She turned a bit, pointing the end at Ava, who grinned.
“Fire away!” laughed Ava and threw her hands in the air.
Charlotte blew and a soft, airy note sounded… then she slumped forward, unconscious.
“Oh no!” shrieked Olivia “What do we do!? She’s hurt!”
Evelyn, however, reached out and gently brushed Charlotte's lips. “She’s still breathing.” she said. “I wonder what happened? Did you feel anything, Ava?”
We turned to look at Ava, and found her mouth wide with shock. She was looking at her hands like she’d never seen them before, wiggling them in front of her eyes. I tapped her on the shoulder.
“Oh! Hi!” she said, her voice strangely bright. “Um, this is weird!”
“What happened?” Olivia whispered.
“Well, um, when I blew into the pipe, I guess it put me into Ava’s body?” said Ava, scrunching up her face. She reached down and squeezed her breasts. “It feels really weird.”
“Oh, you’re Charlotte?” said Evelyn, as if this was as normal as a stroll down to the kitchens. “Do you know what happened to Ava?”
Charlotte shook Ava’s head. “Noooo, I can’t feel her or anything.” then she giggled and patted herself down “Or can I?”
“Ha ha”, I said, “Can you get back to your own body?”
Charlotte scrunched up Ava’s face again as if straining. “Oh no! Does that mean I’m stuck?” she suddenly looked very worried. “I don’t think I want to be Ava! She’s too short!”
Olivia picked up the flute and pushed it into Charlotte's new hands. “Try blowing it again. Point it back into your body.”
Charlotte did so, and a moment later her body sat up again, giggling.
“Ooooh, that was fun!”.
Ava, meanwhile, just blinked. “What happened!? Did it knock me out?”
“Charlotte took over your body.” I said, “I think this is a kind of possession flute.”
“Oh my god!” said Ava, grinning. She felt herself up. “What did she do? I can’t remember a thing!”
“She was only in you for a minute.” said Olivia, biting her lip and squeezing her legs together. “And now that we know what this does, we should definitely hand it in to Professor Tumut.”
“Are you kidding?!” shouted Ava “I’ve got to try it! Who’s turn is it to be possessed next?”
She looked at each of us, her ratty face beaming with excitement.
“Come on guys! It’s easy! You just wake up a minute later, no harm done!”
I shivered. What would Ava do inside my body? She didn’t have much of a filter in her own -- she’d probably make me run around the common room singing or something.
“I’ll give it a go.” said Evelyn “But I do want a turn after. I think whoever gets possessed should be allowed to choose who they possess next.”
Ava looked around at us, pleading. “What do you say, girls?”
Olivia bit her lip. I could tell she was curious... and since there hadn’t been any harm…
“Very well” said Olivia “As long as Ava uses her turn on Evelyn.”
I shivered slightly, wondering what it would be like inside Olivia’s body. I’d get a turn in either her or Charlotte, right? That could be really fun.
“I’m in too.” I said, swallowing nervously.
“I’ve already had a turn!” chirped Charlotte.
Ava grinned again and wasted no time pointing the flute at Evelyn.
“Please don’t do anything weird!” said Evelyn.
Ava blew an ugly note and her body slumped forward. A second later, her trademark grin grew on Evelyn’s innocent face.
“Wow!” said Evelyn’s voice. Ava’s sharp way of speaking sounded very odd coming from Evelyn’s floaty and soft register. It was like she was a whole other person.
Evelyn’s body suddenly stood up.
“Wow!” she said again. “I’m so tall!”
Ava made Evelyn jump up and down, laughing as Evelyn’s bust wobbled in a way Ava’s never could.
“This is amazing!”
“Take it easy, Ava.” said Olivia, “That’s still Evelyn’s body.”
Ava stepped over to her own sleeping body and dug through the pockets of her robes.
“I can’t feel my old body at all!” she said. She grabbed one of her own small boobs in Evelyn’s hand and laughed. “Haha, look everyone, Evelyn’s feeling me up!”
Olivia’s eyes went wide and she glanced around the common room to see if anyone was watching. Luckily it was pretty deserted because of Christmas.
“Stop it!” hissed Olivia, “That’s…”
“What?” said Ava, Evelyn’s voice sounding smug. “It’s my own body! Who says I can’t touch it!”
A naughty look flashed across Evelyn’s innocent face, then Ava bent down and kissed herself on the lips. I felt a strange sensation grow between my legs.
“Ava!”
“Kidding! Kidding!” she said, “I actually only wanted my mirror.”
She pulled out a small pocket mirror and let her old body flop back onto the couch. Looking at her reflection, Ava tried moving Evelyn’s face into all sorts of expressions. Usually Evelyn was very gentle and quiet, she never made faces, but now…
“Oh man! She looks so funny when she frowns!”
Ava turned and made an exaggerated frowning face at me and Olivia.
“Hey, I didn’t get to do any of that stuff when I was you!” said Charlotte. “I want another turn!”
“After me!” I said.
“I think that’s enough Ava.” declared Olivia “Evelyn shouldn’t miss more than a minute or two.”
Ava pouted and stuck Evelyn’s finger up at Olivia, but went back to her seat. I chuckled -- it was really weird seeing Evelyn act like this.
I watched closely this time, wanting to see what happened to Evelyn’s body as she came back to awareness. Ava took the flute and aimed it at her own body, then she stuck her finger up at Olivia again and blew.
It was instant, one moment Evelyn’s face was frowning, then it relaxed and glanced around. Evelyn blushed to find the gesture she was making at Olivia and quickly dropped her hand back into her lap.
“Wow.” she said quietly. “That really was instant.” Then she smiled. satisfied.
“Did you have fun, Ava? I’m glad you got to see what it was like to have my body.”
“She had a lot of fun!” laughed Charlotte.
Ava meanwhile was pushing herself back up, rubbing her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have let myself fall like that.” she said “I think I must have clipped the armrest or something. Owww.”
I laughed at her.
“Serves you right.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“So is it my turn now?” Evelyn asked, the dreamy girl surprisingly focused. She was keen.
Olivia sighed and nodded. I wonder who Evelyn would choose -- Charlotte may be kind of dumb, but her body was like a exaggerated version of Evelyn -- a bit taller, blonder, and bustier. On the other hand, Olivia’s more stern and solid figure might appeal to Evelyn. I smiled at the idea of the responsible and focused girl being controlled by somebody so airy and dream-like.
Evelyn picked up the flute and smiled at me.
“Are you ready, Sophie?”
What?
She raised the flute to her lips and blushed. “It is okay if I have a turn as you?”
I shut my open mouth and steadied myself. That’s okay, I thought, just means I get to definitely pick Olivia.
I nodded at Evelyn and watched her blow a note.
______
A second later I awoke to find myself cuddling with Ava on the other couch. It was like no time had passed at all -- just suddenly my body was in a different position. Evelyn had kicked by slippers off and loosened my tie, I noticed, and my right hand was on Ava’s--
I yelped and jerked my hand back. I stared accusingly at Evelyn -- I hadn’t expected anything like that from her.
“I made her do it.” said Ava, grinning. “And you think I got touchy when I was inside her.”
I gasped.
“It was nothing like that.” said Olivia, quickly. “They just played a prank at the end.”
Charlotte giggled. “And she flashed your boobs in the middle.”
“Evelyn!” I said, shocked.
Evelyn shrunk down her seat a bit. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, really. We’ve compared our boobs before. Besides, it was like it was my body.” She smiled shyly at me. Grrr.
I huffed a little and redid my tie. I didn’t really mind, but it still felt a bit… odd? I imagined my body standing up and flashing Olivia without me there. I tried to get it through my head. That had just happened -- I had stood up and flashed everybody. But I also had been asleep… I glanced down at my body. Nothing had changed about it, yet for a minute or two it hadn’t been mine at all.
I looked up at the others and raised the flute. Conveniently, it was already in my hand from when Evelyn had blown back into herself.
“Fine then.” I said. “You’re turn, Olivia.”
Olivia went red and shuffled in her seat. She squeezed her legs together again and shut her eyes tight.
“Very well.” she said, biting her lip. “Have fun…”
I pointed the flute at Olivia and blew. A kind of tearing sensation came over me, like my very soul was being ripped out of my body. Then…
Foonk!
I landed in Olivia’s body. It didn’t feel like I’d moved anywhere, but my whole perspective had suddenly shifted.
“Holy hell…” I whispered, hearing Olivia’s innocent voice coming out of my lips. Strangely, I felt a little bit horny. Had she--?
“Soooooooo, what’s it like?” said Ava, grinning mischievously.
“It’s-”
I caught up again. It felt really weird to talk out of somebody else's mouth.
“It’s nice?”
I patted myself down, feeling Olivia’s body through her thick jumper. I was really surprised to find how much bigger I was in the chest.
“Well, hurry up!” said Ava, “Show us the goods!”
Charlotte chuckled, and Evelyn blushed. “It’s only fair”, she said.
“Fair would be if I made you flash everybody!”
I straightened up and put on my best Olivia impression, exaggerating her prim way of speaking to a comical level.
“This body must remain prim and proper at all times, otherwise I will tell the teacher that you aaall deserve a detention.”
Ava guffawed. I continued.
“I will serve the detention too, of course, to make sure none of you are having fun.”
I pointed a mockingly stern finger at Ava, who was in stitches laughing on the cough. I made Olivia wiggle it back and forth in an exaggerated way.
“Do you find this funny?!” I chided her. “You just WAIT until the headmaster hears of this!”
“Olivia?” an innocent voice said.
I froze. Ava’s laughter cut off instantly.
I looked up to see one of the other girl’s making her way down from the bedding area. “Is everything okay? I heard you shouting.”
“Everything’s-fine-you-can-go-back-to-bed-now” I let out in a rush, Olivia’s voice strangely high pitched. “I was just playing a game!”
The girl frowned at me, confused. I couldn’t remember her name, but I think she was a friend of Olivia’s.
“Oh… okay then.” she frowned again. “Please don’t make too much noise. I wouldn’t have thought I’d have to ask you that, Olivia.”
“Right, no, thanks, sorry!” I said in a rush. Ahh, this was not a good Olivia impression. Thankfully, the girl shuffled back off to bed.
“It was weird seeing Olivia get flustered like that.” said Everlyn, thoughtfully. “Normally she’s so in control, but you’re-”
“Yeah thanks”, I cut her off. “That was close.”
“That was brilliant!” said Ava, “She had no idea that you’re not Olivia!”
“Well, obviously.” I said, “Nobody knows about the flute.”
“This is amazing. I think we should make this a game.” Ava continued, ignoring me. “I bet you two hobnobs that you could get through all of potions tomorrow without anybody realising.”
“I can’t stay in Olivia all that time!”
“Actually, maybe you should get out of her now, it’s been a few minutes.” said Evelyn.
I fixed Ava with one of Olivia’s piercing glares -- only half joking -- and then blew myself back into my sleeping body. It felt a little uncomfortable from lying on its face all that time.
Olivia woke up instantly and glanced around, confused. She felt herself up and frowned. “I feel completely normal.” she said, almost sounding… disappointed?
“Ava wanted me to stay in you till tomorrow.” I said accusingly. Olivia fixed Ava with the exact same glare I’d made her give a second ago.
“Noooooooo.” said Ava, “I bet that Sophie could pretend to be you all through potions without anybody noticing. It’s different.”
Olivia didn’t miss a beat. “Well I can’t miss potions, so that’s out.”
Charlotte suddenly chimed up, out of the blue. “I bet I could do the splits in Everlyn’s body.” she said.
We all turned to look at her. Where had that come from?
“See, it’s a game!” said Ava. “Somebody makes a bet. If they win, they get to take over the loser’s body for a bit. If they lose, the loser gets to take over their body.”
“And my body is just used to decide the bet?” said Evelyn.
“Yes! Well, whoever’s body is needed for a particular bet, I mean.”
“I don’t like this.” said Olivia, predictably. Then she blushed. “And I don’t think you could do the splits in Evelyn’s body, Charlotte.”
“Wait, are you taking the bet?” I asked, surprised. “You know that means Charlotte gets to control you for a bit if she wins?”
“I know.” siad Olivia, quietly.
“Okay then!” said Ava, grinning. She threw the flute over to Charlotte. “Go for it, girl!”
Charlotte smiled confidently and pointed the flute at Evelyn, who shrugged. She seemed really unfazed by this whole ‘body possession’ thing.
A moment later and Everlyn’s body was doing practice stretches, while Charlotte's body lay collapsed onto its side.
“Ugh!” Evelyn’s (usually soft) voice grunted “What the hell, I can barely move my arms!”
I watched as Charlotte tried to contort Evelyn’s body into a pretzel, something that had apparently been easy for her in her own body.
“On to the splits.” said Olivia smugly.
Charlotte stood Evelyn’s little body up, hands high in the air. She actually looked more graceful - and solid - than I’d ever seen Evelyn look.
It wasn’t enough though, Charlotte tried to bend down, forcing Evelyn’s chest forward as she crab walked the legs out sideways, but she barely made it halfway into a split before getting stuck.
“COME ON!” shouted Evelyn’s voice. Charlotte tried to force her legs wider, pulsing dangerously as she thrust towards the ground. “ARRRGH.”
Ava kicked her and Charlotte sprawled back onto the floor, Evelyn’s body flopping unceremoniously.
“Not fair!” she grumbled, punching herself in the thigh.
“Back in your body now!” said Olivia, holding out the flute. Charlotte begrudgingly took it and blew at her own sleeping form. The instant she did, Evelyn’s face crinkled with pain.
“Owww, what did you put my body through?”
Evelyn looked down at herself, gingerly rubbing the spot on her thigh where Charlotte had punched her.
Punched her with that same hand, I thought.
Charlotte just scowled as Olivia reached over and plucked the flute out of Evelyn’s hand and took her over. Olivia’s body collapsed and Charlotte grinned.
“It was my turn anyway.” she said, Olivia’s prim way of speaking echoing weirdly with Charlotte’s voice. I noticed Olivia paused several times in the process of feeling herself up, spending an inordinate amount of time rubbing Charlotte’s legs.
“Hey, I bet I could do the splits now!” said Olivia. She sprung up in Charlotte’s body, energetically. “Wow, she’s so fit!”
Olivia easily slid Charlotte’s legs out on the floor to either side. She grinned as she wiggled her toes. She also seemed to be grating Charlotte’s hips slightly on the floor, though I must have been imagining it.
“This is so easy! No wonder Charlotte thought she could do it as Evelyn!”
“Yeah, yeah.” said Ava. “Next bet. I bet nobody would be able to tell I’m not Sophie”
Me?
“Hey wait what?” I said.
“You heard me.” said Ava, “Nobody will be able to tell that I’m not you. I’m great at impressions, watch.”Ava screwed up her face and made her voice comically flat.
“Yeah guys I dunno.” she said in a mocking imitation of me. “Yeah that’s pretty good guys. I don’t know.”
“You already said that one.” said Evelyn.
“That’s because she doesn’t say anything else!” Ava said, gesturing at me.
“Rude!” I said, only half pretending to be annoyed. “Anyway you don’t get to possess me because nobody will take the bet and risk getting possessed by you!”
Ava frowned. “Why wouldn’t anybody want to be possessed by me?”
“Because you’ll make them do something crazy!”
“Yeah, but it will be funny!”
I sighed.
“I’ll take the bet.” said Olivia from inside Charlotte’s body, still doing the splits on the ground. “But only if I don’t have to leave Charlotte's body first.”
“Wait, does that mean- ?” I started, but Ava cut me off.
“Boo-yeah! Give me that flute!” she snatched the flute from Olivia’s body’s limp hands and aimed it at me.
“Hold on!!” I shouted quickly. “Rules! We need rules!”
“I’ll take your body and go chat with Steph and that over there.” said Ava, gesturing across the common room to where the only other group sat playing chess. “If they don’t ask if I’m really Ava, I win.”
“No!” said Olivia sharply. “Of course they won’t ask if you’re Ava. If they so much as say “Are you feeling okay, Sophie?” or suspect something is wrong in any way, then I win this bet. Evelyn makes the final decision.”
“Fine” said Ava. “Ready, Sophie?”
I stared down the barrel of the flute and gulped. Ava blew into it and-
I was standing on my tippy toes.
What the hell? Going from lounging about to standing in an instant was weird. My clothes felt a bit ruffled, and my right arm was a bit sore for some reason, but otherwise I felt completely normal.
“Woah.”
I noticed I suddenly felt really sleepy, as if I’d stayed up waaaay past my bedtime. I was still in the common room, fortunately, but the candles had burned more than halfway down. I frowned. Ava had stayed in me much longer than I’d meant her too.
I glanced around the room, letting the hand holding the flute drop to my side. It was basically empty, and a candle flickering up the stairs to the bedrooms signalled that somebody had just left. Evelyn was dozed off on one of the lounges, and Olivia’s body was still slumped over where I’d last seen it. Was she still inside Charlotte then?
In front of me, Ava stretched and grinned. “Hey, I’m not too sore this time!”
“What happened? How long did you stay inside me?” I cringed “And what did you make me do?”
“Only an hour or two.” said Ava, yawning. “I won the bet, by the way. Nobody could tell I wasn’t you.”
It was hard not to feel a little bit hurt by that. Ava patted me on the shoulder lazily as she headed up to bed.
“You can beat me in an arm wrestle, by the way.”
“What? How could you know that?”
Ava just giggled and wandered upstairs.
________
Ava had apparently worn me out, as well as kept me up past my bedtime, so it was with a bleary shuffle that I made my way down to breakfast late the next morning
I didn’t look nearly as out of sorts as Charlotte, however. She stumbled in about 10 minutes after me, red eyed and frazzled.
“What the hell happened last night?” she asked, as she took the spot beside me. “I don’t remember a thing after bloody Evelyn couldn’t do the splits.”
“I missed most of it as well.” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Ava” I said, gesturing at myself. Charlotte let out a snort.
“I would have thought Olivia would have been better, but apparently…” she trailed off, obviously too tired to get her thoughts into words. “Where is she this morning anyway?”
Olivia, it turned out, was right behind us. She leaned over Charlotte and me, wearing an uncharacteristic smirk.
“Mornin’” Olivia chirped. “Have fun last night, Charlotte?”
“I can’t believe you possessed me all night, Liv. Not cool.”
Olivia chuckled and threw back her hair. “Just having fun, you know! Gotta let my hair down every now and again!”
“Bitch” Charlotte muttered, turning back to her cereal. Olivia grinned and messed up her hair.
“It’s so tight that who knows how wild it can get when I let it go?”
Olivia winked at me, and it clicked.
“Ava?” I asked.
Olivia grinned wider. “Got it in one. If only you had been there for the bet last night!”
“Were you…”
“No, I only took over Olivia about two minutes ago. That was all her in Charlotte last night! I caught her trying to sneak out of the Great Hall when she spotted you guys and thought, since I had won that bet, I’d better bring her over.”
Charlotte smiled darkly.
“Make her pick her nose.”
Ava obliged.
“And now stand on one leg.”
Ava did, wobbling slightly.
“Now jump on the table and do that again.”
Ava gave her a look.
“This just feels like I’m the one being humiliated! Let me jump out of her afterwards.”
She pulled the flute out from somewhere inside Olivia’s robes.
“But where’s your body?” I asked.
“Last night we discovered you don’t need to go back to your own body.” said Ava. “I can just blow right into the next person and Olivia will wake up like normal.”
“How did you work that out?” I asked, confused.
Ava ignored me. She made Olivia stand up straight as an arrow, head held high in the air like a prince entering a ball. Then she leapt up onto the breakfast table, raised a finger high into the air, and shoved it into her own nose.
People started to turn around and look at the commotion. I heard whispers of disbelief. Olivia had apparently gone mental.
“Hey, wait a minute! You got to possess Olivia because she bet against you! Who are you going to bet with now?”
Ava crinkled Olivia’s face as she wobbled on the table, a finger in her nose.
“I bet that you can’t make Sophie… I dunno… take off her shoes.”
“Deal accepted” smirked Ava, and raised the flute towards me.
Dammit.
An instant later I was staring down at my school shoes, which had apparently teleported to where my breakfast had been a moment before. I wiggled my toes and found that, yes indeed, Ava had managed to make me take them off. Very impressive.
Next to me, Charlotte giggled like mad. “Your face!!” she laughed, pointing. “You look so resigned! Ha!”
So Ava had ‘won’ that bet too then.
“Come on.” Ava said standing up. “Let’s go find my body.”
“But I haven’t eaten yet!” I grumbled.
“I ate it for you!” laughed Ava, “Come on, Charlotte’s exhausted and I don’t want to stay in her a moment longer than I have to.”
“I don’t think we should be playing with that.” said Olivia. As a prefect, she always thought it was her duty to be responsible. Unfortunately, this took the form of telling us not to do anything fun. It’s a shame, because she was really quite kind otherwise.
“Shove it, Olivia!” laughed Ava, playfully. She snatched the package from Evelyn’s hands. “I want to see what it does!”
It was Christmas evening at St Clare’s School For Girls, and Evelyn had just received a parcel from her great Aunt. It had arrived quietly in the evening, separate from all the other presents, and had come with a short note, written in a flowing old-lady script.
“My dear Evelyn, this flute has been in my care for nearly a century. I’ve heard of your troubles this past year, so I loan it to you with the hope you use it wisely. Point the end of the flute at a bully and play a note to change their tune. Do not get carried away with it, girl. ~~ Mildrid”
So it was we were now we huddled in the common room, wondering what it actually did.
“We must be very careful.” warned Evelyn, “My great aunt is perhaps the most unusual woman in our family.”
Ava chucked at that. She thought that Evelyn was the most unusual woman in her family.
“We should hand it in to Professor Tumut”, said Olivia. “She’ll be able to tell us if it’s dangerous.”
“And she’d never give it back!” complained Ava, “Let’s just try playing it first, quickly, see what it does.”
“Who should we point it at?” I asked. “I don’t want to risk something bad happening to me.”
“Try it on me then!” said Ava, opening the box and handing the flute to me. “Don’t be a wuss, Sophie!”
I hesitantly took the cold brass instrument. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe Evelyn should be the first one to use it?”
I glanced at her, but she shook her head. She was as worried as I was.
“What about Charlotte?”
I looked at the ditsy girl sitting to my left.
“Me?” said Charlotte “But I don’t know how to play the flute.”
“I don’t think you need to know how.” I said “I think you can just blow across it?”
“Oh, okay.” said Charlotte, unfazed. She was pretty used to us telling her answers. Barely passing her classes, she was quite different to the rest of us. I mean, Ava failed plenty too, but that was just because she didn’t try.
Charlotte took the flute and raised it to her lips.
“Point it at Ava first!” I said nervously. Whatever this thing was going to do, I didn’t want it doing it to me.
“Oh, right, okay.”
She turned a bit, pointing the end at Ava, who grinned.
“Fire away!” laughed Ava and threw her hands in the air.
Charlotte blew and a soft, airy note sounded… then she slumped forward, unconscious.
“Oh no!” shrieked Olivia “What do we do!? She’s hurt!”
Evelyn, however, reached out and gently brushed Charlotte's lips. “She’s still breathing.” she said. “I wonder what happened? Did you feel anything, Ava?”
We turned to look at Ava, and found her mouth wide with shock. She was looking at her hands like she’d never seen them before, wiggling them in front of her eyes. I tapped her on the shoulder.
“Oh! Hi!” she said, her voice strangely bright. “Um, this is weird!”
“What happened?” Olivia whispered.
“Well, um, when I blew into the pipe, I guess it put me into Ava’s body?” said Ava, scrunching up her face. She reached down and squeezed her breasts. “It feels really weird.”
“Oh, you’re Charlotte?” said Evelyn, as if this was as normal as a stroll down to the kitchens. “Do you know what happened to Ava?”
Charlotte shook Ava’s head. “Noooo, I can’t feel her or anything.” then she giggled and patted herself down “Or can I?”
“Ha ha”, I said, “Can you get back to your own body?”
Charlotte scrunched up Ava’s face again as if straining. “Oh no! Does that mean I’m stuck?” she suddenly looked very worried. “I don’t think I want to be Ava! She’s too short!”
Olivia picked up the flute and pushed it into Charlotte's new hands. “Try blowing it again. Point it back into your body.”
Charlotte did so, and a moment later her body sat up again, giggling.
“Ooooh, that was fun!”.
Ava, meanwhile, just blinked. “What happened!? Did it knock me out?”
“Charlotte took over your body.” I said, “I think this is a kind of possession flute.”
“Oh my god!” said Ava, grinning. She felt herself up. “What did she do? I can’t remember a thing!”
“She was only in you for a minute.” said Olivia, biting her lip and squeezing her legs together. “And now that we know what this does, we should definitely hand it in to Professor Tumut.”
“Are you kidding?!” shouted Ava “I’ve got to try it! Who’s turn is it to be possessed next?”
She looked at each of us, her ratty face beaming with excitement.
“Come on guys! It’s easy! You just wake up a minute later, no harm done!”
I shivered. What would Ava do inside my body? She didn’t have much of a filter in her own -- she’d probably make me run around the common room singing or something.
“I’ll give it a go.” said Evelyn “But I do want a turn after. I think whoever gets possessed should be allowed to choose who they possess next.”
Ava looked around at us, pleading. “What do you say, girls?”
Olivia bit her lip. I could tell she was curious... and since there hadn’t been any harm…
“Very well” said Olivia “As long as Ava uses her turn on Evelyn.”
I shivered slightly, wondering what it would be like inside Olivia’s body. I’d get a turn in either her or Charlotte, right? That could be really fun.
“I’m in too.” I said, swallowing nervously.
“I’ve already had a turn!” chirped Charlotte.
Ava grinned again and wasted no time pointing the flute at Evelyn.
“Please don’t do anything weird!” said Evelyn.
Ava blew an ugly note and her body slumped forward. A second later, her trademark grin grew on Evelyn’s innocent face.
“Wow!” said Evelyn’s voice. Ava’s sharp way of speaking sounded very odd coming from Evelyn’s floaty and soft register. It was like she was a whole other person.
Evelyn’s body suddenly stood up.
“Wow!” she said again. “I’m so tall!”
Ava made Evelyn jump up and down, laughing as Evelyn’s bust wobbled in a way Ava’s never could.
“This is amazing!”
“Take it easy, Ava.” said Olivia, “That’s still Evelyn’s body.”
Ava stepped over to her own sleeping body and dug through the pockets of her robes.
“I can’t feel my old body at all!” she said. She grabbed one of her own small boobs in Evelyn’s hand and laughed. “Haha, look everyone, Evelyn’s feeling me up!”
Olivia’s eyes went wide and she glanced around the common room to see if anyone was watching. Luckily it was pretty deserted because of Christmas.
“Stop it!” hissed Olivia, “That’s…”
“What?” said Ava, Evelyn’s voice sounding smug. “It’s my own body! Who says I can’t touch it!”
A naughty look flashed across Evelyn’s innocent face, then Ava bent down and kissed herself on the lips. I felt a strange sensation grow between my legs.
“Ava!”
“Kidding! Kidding!” she said, “I actually only wanted my mirror.”
She pulled out a small pocket mirror and let her old body flop back onto the couch. Looking at her reflection, Ava tried moving Evelyn’s face into all sorts of expressions. Usually Evelyn was very gentle and quiet, she never made faces, but now…
“Oh man! She looks so funny when she frowns!”
Ava turned and made an exaggerated frowning face at me and Olivia.
“Hey, I didn’t get to do any of that stuff when I was you!” said Charlotte. “I want another turn!”
“After me!” I said.
“I think that’s enough Ava.” declared Olivia “Evelyn shouldn’t miss more than a minute or two.”
Ava pouted and stuck Evelyn’s finger up at Olivia, but went back to her seat. I chuckled -- it was really weird seeing Evelyn act like this.
I watched closely this time, wanting to see what happened to Evelyn’s body as she came back to awareness. Ava took the flute and aimed it at her own body, then she stuck her finger up at Olivia again and blew.
It was instant, one moment Evelyn’s face was frowning, then it relaxed and glanced around. Evelyn blushed to find the gesture she was making at Olivia and quickly dropped her hand back into her lap.
“Wow.” she said quietly. “That really was instant.” Then she smiled. satisfied.
“Did you have fun, Ava? I’m glad you got to see what it was like to have my body.”
“She had a lot of fun!” laughed Charlotte.
Ava meanwhile was pushing herself back up, rubbing her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have let myself fall like that.” she said “I think I must have clipped the armrest or something. Owww.”
I laughed at her.
“Serves you right.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“So is it my turn now?” Evelyn asked, the dreamy girl surprisingly focused. She was keen.
Olivia sighed and nodded. I wonder who Evelyn would choose -- Charlotte may be kind of dumb, but her body was like a exaggerated version of Evelyn -- a bit taller, blonder, and bustier. On the other hand, Olivia’s more stern and solid figure might appeal to Evelyn. I smiled at the idea of the responsible and focused girl being controlled by somebody so airy and dream-like.
Evelyn picked up the flute and smiled at me.
“Are you ready, Sophie?”
What?
She raised the flute to her lips and blushed. “It is okay if I have a turn as you?”
I shut my open mouth and steadied myself. That’s okay, I thought, just means I get to definitely pick Olivia.
I nodded at Evelyn and watched her blow a note.
______
A second later I awoke to find myself cuddling with Ava on the other couch. It was like no time had passed at all -- just suddenly my body was in a different position. Evelyn had kicked by slippers off and loosened my tie, I noticed, and my right hand was on Ava’s--
I yelped and jerked my hand back. I stared accusingly at Evelyn -- I hadn’t expected anything like that from her.
“I made her do it.” said Ava, grinning. “And you think I got touchy when I was inside her.”
I gasped.
“It was nothing like that.” said Olivia, quickly. “They just played a prank at the end.”
Charlotte giggled. “And she flashed your boobs in the middle.”
“Evelyn!” I said, shocked.
Evelyn shrunk down her seat a bit. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, really. We’ve compared our boobs before. Besides, it was like it was my body.” She smiled shyly at me. Grrr.
I huffed a little and redid my tie. I didn’t really mind, but it still felt a bit… odd? I imagined my body standing up and flashing Olivia without me there. I tried to get it through my head. That had just happened -- I had stood up and flashed everybody. But I also had been asleep… I glanced down at my body. Nothing had changed about it, yet for a minute or two it hadn’t been mine at all.
I looked up at the others and raised the flute. Conveniently, it was already in my hand from when Evelyn had blown back into herself.
“Fine then.” I said. “You’re turn, Olivia.”
Olivia went red and shuffled in her seat. She squeezed her legs together again and shut her eyes tight.
“Very well.” she said, biting her lip. “Have fun…”
I pointed the flute at Olivia and blew. A kind of tearing sensation came over me, like my very soul was being ripped out of my body. Then…
Foonk!
I landed in Olivia’s body. It didn’t feel like I’d moved anywhere, but my whole perspective had suddenly shifted.
“Holy hell…” I whispered, hearing Olivia’s innocent voice coming out of my lips. Strangely, I felt a little bit horny. Had she--?
“Soooooooo, what’s it like?” said Ava, grinning mischievously.
“It’s-”
I caught up again. It felt really weird to talk out of somebody else's mouth.
“It’s nice?”
I patted myself down, feeling Olivia’s body through her thick jumper. I was really surprised to find how much bigger I was in the chest.
“Well, hurry up!” said Ava, “Show us the goods!”
Charlotte chuckled, and Evelyn blushed. “It’s only fair”, she said.
“Fair would be if I made you flash everybody!”
I straightened up and put on my best Olivia impression, exaggerating her prim way of speaking to a comical level.
“This body must remain prim and proper at all times, otherwise I will tell the teacher that you aaall deserve a detention.”
Ava guffawed. I continued.
“I will serve the detention too, of course, to make sure none of you are having fun.”
I pointed a mockingly stern finger at Ava, who was in stitches laughing on the cough. I made Olivia wiggle it back and forth in an exaggerated way.
“Do you find this funny?!” I chided her. “You just WAIT until the headmaster hears of this!”
“Olivia?” an innocent voice said.
I froze. Ava’s laughter cut off instantly.
I looked up to see one of the other girl’s making her way down from the bedding area. “Is everything okay? I heard you shouting.”
“Everything’s-fine-you-can-go-back-to-bed-now” I let out in a rush, Olivia’s voice strangely high pitched. “I was just playing a game!”
The girl frowned at me, confused. I couldn’t remember her name, but I think she was a friend of Olivia’s.
“Oh… okay then.” she frowned again. “Please don’t make too much noise. I wouldn’t have thought I’d have to ask you that, Olivia.”
“Right, no, thanks, sorry!” I said in a rush. Ahh, this was not a good Olivia impression. Thankfully, the girl shuffled back off to bed.
“It was weird seeing Olivia get flustered like that.” said Everlyn, thoughtfully. “Normally she’s so in control, but you’re-”
“Yeah thanks”, I cut her off. “That was close.”
“That was brilliant!” said Ava, “She had no idea that you’re not Olivia!”
“Well, obviously.” I said, “Nobody knows about the flute.”
“This is amazing. I think we should make this a game.” Ava continued, ignoring me. “I bet you two hobnobs that you could get through all of potions tomorrow without anybody realising.”
“I can’t stay in Olivia all that time!”
“Actually, maybe you should get out of her now, it’s been a few minutes.” said Evelyn.
I fixed Ava with one of Olivia’s piercing glares -- only half joking -- and then blew myself back into my sleeping body. It felt a little uncomfortable from lying on its face all that time.
Olivia woke up instantly and glanced around, confused. She felt herself up and frowned. “I feel completely normal.” she said, almost sounding… disappointed?
“Ava wanted me to stay in you till tomorrow.” I said accusingly. Olivia fixed Ava with the exact same glare I’d made her give a second ago.
“Noooooooo.” said Ava, “I bet that Sophie could pretend to be you all through potions without anybody noticing. It’s different.”
Olivia didn’t miss a beat. “Well I can’t miss potions, so that’s out.”
Charlotte suddenly chimed up, out of the blue. “I bet I could do the splits in Everlyn’s body.” she said.
We all turned to look at her. Where had that come from?
“See, it’s a game!” said Ava. “Somebody makes a bet. If they win, they get to take over the loser’s body for a bit. If they lose, the loser gets to take over their body.”
“And my body is just used to decide the bet?” said Evelyn.
“Yes! Well, whoever’s body is needed for a particular bet, I mean.”
“I don’t like this.” said Olivia, predictably. Then she blushed. “And I don’t think you could do the splits in Evelyn’s body, Charlotte.”
“Wait, are you taking the bet?” I asked, surprised. “You know that means Charlotte gets to control you for a bit if she wins?”
“I know.” siad Olivia, quietly.
“Okay then!” said Ava, grinning. She threw the flute over to Charlotte. “Go for it, girl!”
Charlotte smiled confidently and pointed the flute at Evelyn, who shrugged. She seemed really unfazed by this whole ‘body possession’ thing.
A moment later and Everlyn’s body was doing practice stretches, while Charlotte's body lay collapsed onto its side.
“Ugh!” Evelyn’s (usually soft) voice grunted “What the hell, I can barely move my arms!”
I watched as Charlotte tried to contort Evelyn’s body into a pretzel, something that had apparently been easy for her in her own body.
“On to the splits.” said Olivia smugly.
Charlotte stood Evelyn’s little body up, hands high in the air. She actually looked more graceful - and solid - than I’d ever seen Evelyn look.
It wasn’t enough though, Charlotte tried to bend down, forcing Evelyn’s chest forward as she crab walked the legs out sideways, but she barely made it halfway into a split before getting stuck.
“COME ON!” shouted Evelyn’s voice. Charlotte tried to force her legs wider, pulsing dangerously as she thrust towards the ground. “ARRRGH.”
Ava kicked her and Charlotte sprawled back onto the floor, Evelyn’s body flopping unceremoniously.
“Not fair!” she grumbled, punching herself in the thigh.
“Back in your body now!” said Olivia, holding out the flute. Charlotte begrudgingly took it and blew at her own sleeping form. The instant she did, Evelyn’s face crinkled with pain.
“Owww, what did you put my body through?”
Evelyn looked down at herself, gingerly rubbing the spot on her thigh where Charlotte had punched her.
Punched her with that same hand, I thought.
Charlotte just scowled as Olivia reached over and plucked the flute out of Evelyn’s hand and took her over. Olivia’s body collapsed and Charlotte grinned.
“It was my turn anyway.” she said, Olivia’s prim way of speaking echoing weirdly with Charlotte’s voice. I noticed Olivia paused several times in the process of feeling herself up, spending an inordinate amount of time rubbing Charlotte’s legs.
“Hey, I bet I could do the splits now!” said Olivia. She sprung up in Charlotte’s body, energetically. “Wow, she’s so fit!”
Olivia easily slid Charlotte’s legs out on the floor to either side. She grinned as she wiggled her toes. She also seemed to be grating Charlotte’s hips slightly on the floor, though I must have been imagining it.
“This is so easy! No wonder Charlotte thought she could do it as Evelyn!”
“Yeah, yeah.” said Ava. “Next bet. I bet nobody would be able to tell I’m not Sophie”
Me?
“Hey wait what?” I said.
“You heard me.” said Ava, “Nobody will be able to tell that I’m not you. I’m great at impressions, watch.”Ava screwed up her face and made her voice comically flat.
“Yeah guys I dunno.” she said in a mocking imitation of me. “Yeah that’s pretty good guys. I don’t know.”
“You already said that one.” said Evelyn.
“That’s because she doesn’t say anything else!” Ava said, gesturing at me.
“Rude!” I said, only half pretending to be annoyed. “Anyway you don’t get to possess me because nobody will take the bet and risk getting possessed by you!”
Ava frowned. “Why wouldn’t anybody want to be possessed by me?”
“Because you’ll make them do something crazy!”
“Yeah, but it will be funny!”
I sighed.
“I’ll take the bet.” said Olivia from inside Charlotte’s body, still doing the splits on the ground. “But only if I don’t have to leave Charlotte's body first.”
“Wait, does that mean- ?” I started, but Ava cut me off.
“Boo-yeah! Give me that flute!” she snatched the flute from Olivia’s body’s limp hands and aimed it at me.
“Hold on!!” I shouted quickly. “Rules! We need rules!”
“I’ll take your body and go chat with Steph and that over there.” said Ava, gesturing across the common room to where the only other group sat playing chess. “If they don’t ask if I’m really Ava, I win.”
“No!” said Olivia sharply. “Of course they won’t ask if you’re Ava. If they so much as say “Are you feeling okay, Sophie?” or suspect something is wrong in any way, then I win this bet. Evelyn makes the final decision.”
“Fine” said Ava. “Ready, Sophie?”
I stared down the barrel of the flute and gulped. Ava blew into it and-
I was standing on my tippy toes.
What the hell? Going from lounging about to standing in an instant was weird. My clothes felt a bit ruffled, and my right arm was a bit sore for some reason, but otherwise I felt completely normal.
“Woah.”
I noticed I suddenly felt really sleepy, as if I’d stayed up waaaay past my bedtime. I was still in the common room, fortunately, but the candles had burned more than halfway down. I frowned. Ava had stayed in me much longer than I’d meant her too.
I glanced around the room, letting the hand holding the flute drop to my side. It was basically empty, and a candle flickering up the stairs to the bedrooms signalled that somebody had just left. Evelyn was dozed off on one of the lounges, and Olivia’s body was still slumped over where I’d last seen it. Was she still inside Charlotte then?
In front of me, Ava stretched and grinned. “Hey, I’m not too sore this time!”
“What happened? How long did you stay inside me?” I cringed “And what did you make me do?”
“Only an hour or two.” said Ava, yawning. “I won the bet, by the way. Nobody could tell I wasn’t you.”
It was hard not to feel a little bit hurt by that. Ava patted me on the shoulder lazily as she headed up to bed.
“You can beat me in an arm wrestle, by the way.”
“What? How could you know that?”
Ava just giggled and wandered upstairs.
________
Ava had apparently worn me out, as well as kept me up past my bedtime, so it was with a bleary shuffle that I made my way down to breakfast late the next morning
I didn’t look nearly as out of sorts as Charlotte, however. She stumbled in about 10 minutes after me, red eyed and frazzled.
“What the hell happened last night?” she asked, as she took the spot beside me. “I don’t remember a thing after bloody Evelyn couldn’t do the splits.”
“I missed most of it as well.” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Ava” I said, gesturing at myself. Charlotte let out a snort.
“I would have thought Olivia would have been better, but apparently…” she trailed off, obviously too tired to get her thoughts into words. “Where is she this morning anyway?”
Olivia, it turned out, was right behind us. She leaned over Charlotte and me, wearing an uncharacteristic smirk.
“Mornin’” Olivia chirped. “Have fun last night, Charlotte?”
“I can’t believe you possessed me all night, Liv. Not cool.”
Olivia chuckled and threw back her hair. “Just having fun, you know! Gotta let my hair down every now and again!”
“Bitch” Charlotte muttered, turning back to her cereal. Olivia grinned and messed up her hair.
“It’s so tight that who knows how wild it can get when I let it go?”
Olivia winked at me, and it clicked.
“Ava?” I asked.
Olivia grinned wider. “Got it in one. If only you had been there for the bet last night!”
“Were you…”
“No, I only took over Olivia about two minutes ago. That was all her in Charlotte last night! I caught her trying to sneak out of the Great Hall when she spotted you guys and thought, since I had won that bet, I’d better bring her over.”
Charlotte smiled darkly.
“Make her pick her nose.”
Ava obliged.
“And now stand on one leg.”
Ava did, wobbling slightly.
“Now jump on the table and do that again.”
Ava gave her a look.
“This just feels like I’m the one being humiliated! Let me jump out of her afterwards.”
She pulled the flute out from somewhere inside Olivia’s robes.
“But where’s your body?” I asked.
“Last night we discovered you don’t need to go back to your own body.” said Ava. “I can just blow right into the next person and Olivia will wake up like normal.”
“How did you work that out?” I asked, confused.
Ava ignored me. She made Olivia stand up straight as an arrow, head held high in the air like a prince entering a ball. Then she leapt up onto the breakfast table, raised a finger high into the air, and shoved it into her own nose.
People started to turn around and look at the commotion. I heard whispers of disbelief. Olivia had apparently gone mental.
“Hey, wait a minute! You got to possess Olivia because she bet against you! Who are you going to bet with now?”
Ava crinkled Olivia’s face as she wobbled on the table, a finger in her nose.
“I bet that you can’t make Sophie… I dunno… take off her shoes.”
“Deal accepted” smirked Ava, and raised the flute towards me.
Dammit.
An instant later I was staring down at my school shoes, which had apparently teleported to where my breakfast had been a moment before. I wiggled my toes and found that, yes indeed, Ava had managed to make me take them off. Very impressive.
Next to me, Charlotte giggled like mad. “Your face!!” she laughed, pointing. “You look so resigned! Ha!”
So Ava had ‘won’ that bet too then.
“Come on.” Ava said standing up. “Let’s go find my body.”
“But I haven’t eaten yet!” I grumbled.
“I ate it for you!” laughed Ava, “Come on, Charlotte’s exhausted and I don’t want to stay in her a moment longer than I have to.”
2
8.7K
14
3
In a dystopian world of government stealth control, agents Jacob and Gordon are tasked to protect Ashley, a bubbly college student, on her vacation to an island resort. Jacob and Gordon bicker with, control, and find themselves overcome by the roles they must take on. This story features a varying third person POV, male to female possession / stealth control, a vague kidnapping plot, and two tough men being forced by circumstances to inhabit soft, female bodies.
In the windowless confines of a government facility buried deep beneath Washington D.C., two men sat opposite each other in an unadorned room, the light from the single overhead bulb pooling around them. One was young, his buzzcut hair making him appear younger than his 28 years, and his brown eyes shone with defiance. The other was older, with the lined face of someone used to bearing weighty responsibility. His blue eyes held a stern, almost desperate look. These men were Jacob and Gordon, agents of the clandestine organization known as the CBI.
The room hummed with a quiet tension as a holographic display flickered to life between them. Images of a young woman with brown hair flashed on the screen. She looked bright, bubbly even, her smile filled with the naiveté of the privileged. Her name, the display read, was Ashley. Her father was a big shot in the government, and she was their next assignment.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze darted from the hologram to his partner. The disdain in his voice was almost tangible. "So, we're playing babysitters now?"
Gordon's stern gaze remained fixed on the display. "We're protecting an innocent life, Jacob," he said, his voice tight. "An innocent life that, if lost, could plunge the country into chaos."
Jacob scoffed, unconvinced. "The rich girl's daddy has a lot of enemies, huh?"
"More than you'd think." Gordon looked at Jacob, his eyes betraying his seriousness. "This isn't just about Ashley. It's about national security."
The display changed to the image of a blonde-haired woman named Sherry and an Asian woman, labelled Barbara. "They're friends of Ashley’s. We’ve known Sherry for quite some time, but Barbara We believe Barbara is new to us. We haven’t been able to verify her identity."
Jacob's eyebrows shot up. "And we're supposed to do what? Use stealth control and become sorority sisters?"
Gordon ignored Jacob's sarcasm. "We're to protect Ashley, and if necessary, neutralize Barbara."
“Neutralize Barbara, Jesus Christ. We don’t even know who she is yet. She could just be some college student!”
There was a moment of silence as both men took in the gravity of their mission. Gordon continued, "We're to use the stealth control, as needed, to keep an eye on the girls without disrupting their holiday plans. We will be meeting them before the mission, so they will know who we are, and that we are there to keep them safe.”
Jacob looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Why am I always the one getting dressed in women's clothes?"
Gordon shrugged and gave a slight smile, "I can’t speak to your previous experience their, Jacob. Perhaps you make a good girl"
“Yeah, fuck you.” Jacob laughed, “We’ll see what happens.”
As the room plunged into darkness, both men rose from their chairs. They had a mission to accomplish. They were CBI agents; their personal feelings had no room in the grand scheme of things.
They were the unseen guardians, ready to step into the lives of the oblivious to keep them safe. It was their duty. Their burden.
“Hey, if you take over Sherry, will you show me her tits?”
It was just another day in the CBI.
______________________________________________
The private jet was an opulent capsule of wealth and privilege, humming smoothly above the clouds. Inside, Jacob and Gordon sat across from Ashley and Sherry. The air was thick with tension as they divulged the secrets of the CBI and their stealth control technology.
Jacob, lounging in his plush seat, was narrating a previous mission with a cheeky grin. "It was a nunnery in Budapest, you see," he began, "I had to infiltrate the sisterhood, become one of them. You wouldn't believe the shenanigans I got up to with those rosary beads."
Gordon winced at Jacob's choice of words. The older man knew that his partner's irreverence towards their technology would not help soothe the girls' anxiety. He cast an apologetic glance at Ashley, who was listening with wide-eyed disbelief.
Sherry, however, was less tolerant. The blonde girl crossed her arms, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "Are you telling me," she began, her voice icy, "that you could just take over one of us without us even knowing? That's... that's gross! It's disgusting!"
Jacob merely shrugged, not at all perturbed by her outrage. "It's the job," he said, leaning back into his seat. "It's not personal. And it's only if necessary. It's all about protecting your dear friend Ashley here."
Ashley looked terrified at the thought of her body being taken over. Sherry, on the other hand, looked downright furious.
Gordon, sensing the escalating tension, decided to intervene. "It's a measure of last resort, ladies," he assured them. "We would not use this technology unless it's absolutely necessary."
"But how can you make that decision?" Sherry protested, her voice shaking. "What gives you the right to use our bodies like... like empty vessels?"
Gordon's gaze hardened. "It's our duty, Miss. We're here to protect Ashley and you from potential harm."
"What potential harm?" Ashley asked, her voice tiny. "We're just on college break."
Gordon's glance slid to Jacob, then back to the girls. "We have reason to believe that one of your college mates, Barbara, might not be who she claims to be."
Sherry's nostrils flared, her sharp eyes narrowing on Jacob. "You probably enjoy this, don't you?" she accused, her voice dripping with contempt. "You get your kicks out of wearing women's bodies. Must be a real ego trip."
Jacob looked unfazed by her accusations. Instead, he let out a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. "You know, Sherry," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "You really should learn to relax. Life's too short to always be angry."
Sherry's retort was cut off as the plane jostled slightly, a patch of turbulence causing everyone to grip their armrests. The distraction provided Jacob with the perfect cover. His hand moved deftly, slipping a small device from his pocket. With a swift, practised movement, he reached out under the guise of steadying Sherry and attached the receiver to the back of her neck.
She gave him a sour look, completely oblivious to the device now nestled under her blonde curls. "Keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, swatting his arm away.
Jacob simply raised his hands in a show of innocence, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Just making sure you're safe, princess."
Gordon shot Jacob a stern look, shaking his head slightly. The younger agent was playing a dangerous game, but Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of time. For now, they had to trust Jacob's instincts, as reckless as they seemed.
As the jet soared above the clouds, a game of cat and mouse was beginning to take shape. Unbeknownst to her, Sherry was now at the mercy of a technology that made her body an unwitting pawn in a high-stakes game. And all around her, eyes watched, ready to protect, and if necessary, to control.
Jacob fished out the small, innocuous-looking device from his pocket. It was the transmitter, the critical piece of technology that could bridge minds. "Now, ladies," he began, holding up the device for them to see, "this little gadget here is the key. It links me to the receiver, allowing me to 'borrow' the body."
Sherry scoffed, her face flushing with anger. "You mean 'hijack,' not 'borrow.'"
Jacob merely shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling into a wry grin. "Potato, potahto."
"And you're planning to use it on me?" Sherry spat, her fingers curling into tight fists. “No way I’ll let you put one of those receiver things on me.”
"Why, Sherry, it's almost like you're worried." Jacob teased, his grin broadening. "I promise you won't feel a thing. One moment you'll be here, the next you'll be... well, still here. But with better decision-making skills."
Gordon frowned at Jacob's flippant remark, but remained silent. Ashley, on the other hand, was growing more anxious by the second. Her wide eyes darted between Jacob, Sherry, and the device in Jacob's hand.
"But... how can you ensure she won't realize?" Ashley asked, her voice quivering.
Jacob leaned back, clasping the transmitter device in his hand. "That's the beauty of it, Ashley. The person being controlled won't even realize they're not making their own decisions. They just think they're having a particularly decisive day."
Ashley gulped, her gaze drifting towards Sherry, who was now standing, her eyes blazing with fury. "And what if I refuse?" Sherry snapped, her voice echoing in the confined space of the jet.
Jacob met her gaze unflinchingly, his grin never wavering. "Well, then, princess," he said, his voice deceptively soft, "you can consider this a lesson in diplomacy. Or better yet, consider it... an adventure."
"An adventure?" Sherry scoffed, her eyes alight with a mixture of anger and defiance. "I think you'll find, Jacob, that I'm not as easy to control as you think."
Jacob's grin widened, his gaze meeting hers. "Is that a challenge, princess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes gleamed with anticipation at the thought of finally putting the arrogant heiress in her place.
Beside Sherry, Ashley's brow furrowed in thought. "But... what does it feel like?" she asked quietly. "Being controlled, I mean."
Jacob shifted his attention to Ashley, his grin softening into a gentler smile. "It's like being a passenger in your own body, Ashley," he explained. "You feel everything, you see everything. But the decisions, the actions, they're all made by someone else. And the best part? You won't even realize it's not you."
Ashley chewed on her lower lip, her brown eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. "So... it's like sleepwalking?"
"In a way," Gordon chimed in, his voice steady. "You're aware of everything happening, but it's like you're on autopilot."
"But I can resist, right?" Sherry cut in, her voice filled with determination. "I mean, it's my body. I should be able to fight it."
Jacob chuckled, the sound echoing through the private jet. "I'd love to see you try, princess," he said, his tone filled with a challenge. He was relishing the opportunity to use the stealth control technology, and even more so, the opportunity to take Sherry down a notch.
Gordon watched the exchange quietly. There was an undeniable tension building between Jacob and Sherry, a silent power struggle that hung heavy in the air. As for Ashley, she was a mixture of curiosity and fear. But Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of choice anymore. A game was set to begin, and whether they liked it or not, they were all players.
Jacob lifted the transmitter, his fingers curling around the device. His eyes locked onto Sherry's defiant glare, a predatory grin playing on his lips.
"Let's put your theory to the test, shall we, princess?" His voice was low and taunting, as he pressed a button on the transmitter.
The moment the button was pressed, Jacob's body slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, and a blank expression on his face. Meanwhile, the effect on Sherry was immediate and startling.
Sherry's eyes glazed over for a moment, before a confident, almost mischievous smirk spread across her face - a mirror image of Jacob's. Her posture changed subtly, carrying the swagger and bravado that Jacob exhibited. Her hands reached out, grabbing onto the arms of her chair, and then she was pushing herself up to a standing position.
Inside Sherry's body, Jacob was reveling in his control. His – or rather, Sherry's – hands spread wide as he straightened her back, pushing her shoulders back with an exaggerated flourish. He could feel the luxurious fabric of her clothes, the power of her healthy, young muscles. Sherry's outraged expression had been replaced by his confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of his delight and daring.
"This," he made Sherry's voice purr, gesturing to her body with her hands, "is rather impressive."
Across the aisle, Ashley's eyes went wide with shock, her gaze darting between Sherry's animated form and Jacob's lifeless body. She was silent, her hand hovering uncertainly over her mouth as she grappled with the reality of what she was witnessing.
Gordon's face was a stoic mask, his eyes moving between his own lifeless partner and the heiress, now dancing like a puppet on a string. He noted the smug satisfaction radiating off of 'Sherry', and knew Jacob was thoroughly enjoying himself.
A strange sensation gripped Sherry, but it was not an unpleasant one. It was like waking up in the morning and not quite remembering your dream, but knowing it had been delightful. She found herself giggling, her hands drifting down to the hem of her dress and tugging it experimentally. It was her decision, she thought. Why else would she do it?
She was aware of the luxurious fabric sliding between her fingers, of the way it hugged her figure. She was not usually one to admire herself so openly, yet now she found herself doing just that. She glanced down at her designer heels and in the blink of an eye, decided they were far too constricting. With a small huff, she kicked them off, the shoes sailing through the air with a satisfying arc before landing with a muffled thud.
Her gaze returned to her bare feet, her pedicured toes wriggling against the plush carpet of the jet. The sensation was... liberating. She looked at her own body, her hands exploring the curves of her form, the feeling so natural it was as if she had decided to do it herself.
Yet somewhere, a small part of her mind fluttered with uncertainty. She remembered Jacob's promise, his taunting grin, the way his body had slumped lifelessly. Was it possible that she wasn't in control, that she was just a passenger in her own body?
She pushed the thought away immediately. She was Sherry, the woman who bowed to no one, the woman who was always in control. She was not going to be manipulated by a man who saw her as nothing more than a plaything.
She cupped her breasts with a smirk. Yep, these were hers all right.
The moment was interrupted by Gordon's stern voice, "Alright, Jacob. That's enough. Don't embarrass the girl."
Jacob's smirk, painted on Sherry's face, deepened at his partner's reprimand. With a dramatic bow, he surrendered the controls. The moment he disengaged the transmitter, his own body jerked back to life, a yawn escaping his lips as though he had just woken from a nap.
At the same time, Sherry's body froze, the audacious smirk slowly melting from her face. She blinked, her eyes returning to their usual fierce determination. She looked around, her brows furrowed in confusion, as if waking from an odd dream.
Ashley rushed over to her friend, concern etched into her face. "Sherry, are you okay? What did it feel like?"
Sherry frowned, her hands running down her dress, straightening it out. "What do you mean, 'what did it feel like'? I was just...having a bit of fun, that's all."
"But... but Jacob was controlling you," Ashley stammered, glancing between her friend and the CBI agent. "Didn't you feel that?"
"Nonsense," Sherry huffed, a flush creeping onto her cheeks. "No one controls me. Not even Jacob."
Gordon watched the exchange in silence. If Jacob's demonstration had taught them anything, it was the power and subtlety of the stealth control technology. Even now, Sherry refused to believe she'd been manipulated.
Jacob, meanwhile, stretched in his seat, a satisfied smirk still dancing on his lips. He'd enjoyed the ride more than he'd anticipated, and Sherry's continued denial was just icing on the cake. Despite the underlying seriousness of their mission, he found himself looking forward to what would come next.
It didn’t have to be him that was stuck inside that gorgeous female body, after all.
As the private jet descended onto the private airstrip of the island resort, Ashley and Sherry gazed out the window, their eyes filled with anticipation. From above, the resort looked like a paradise. An ocean of turquoise blue lapped against white sandy beaches, while luxurious villas lay dotted amidst lush, tropical greenery.
Once they'd landed, Ashley and Sherry, fueled by excitement, hurried off the jet and disappeared into the resort. They were seemingly unaffected by the strange events on the plane, or perhaps just choosing to ignore them for now.
With the girls out of earshot, Gordon turned to Jacob. His stern gaze bore into his partner's smirking face. "What you did up there was inappropriate," he chided, his voice low but firm. "This isn't a game, Jacob. We're here to protect Ashley and Sherry, not to make fools of them."
Jacob's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew wider. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Gordon," he said casually. "But I also think it's important to enjoy your work, don't you?"
Gordon sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is serious, Jacob. We have a mission."
Jacob rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. All serious and no play. But tell you what, Gordon. Next time, you get to do the controlling. I'd love to see what 'fun' you'd have with Sherry."
Gordon's face blanched at the thought. "Jacob, I..."
Jacob cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No arguments, Gordon. We'll see how much of a straight shooter you are then."
As Jacob walked off towards the resort, leaving a dumbstruck Gordon behind, he couldn't help but chuckle. His mission had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
___________________________
Inside one of the private villas in the resort, Gordon and Jacob had swiftly set up their temporary base of operations. Surveillance equipment was neatly arranged across the tables, while a screen displayed the layout of the entire resort. Here, they would keep a close eye on Ashley and Sherry while blending into the luxurious backdrop of their surroundings.
The evening brought with it a gentle breeze that swept across the balcony of the villa, rustling the leaves of the palm trees outside. Gordon found himself standing there, staring out into the approaching dusk, his thoughts burdened by the prospect of the task ahead.
Jacob joined him, his posture relaxed, a glass of some exotic drink in his hand. "Nervous, Gordon?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.
Gordon shot him a sidelong glance. "I just... I don't agree with this method. It feels wrong."
Jacob chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "You'll get used to it. Besides, we're doing this for Ashley, remember? So she can enjoy her break with her friends, oblivious to the danger lurking around."
Gordon sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face. "Fine. I'll take over Sherry. But you're tailing us in your own body. No more 'fun' at their expense."
Jacob laughed, raising his glass. "Deal. And don't worry, Gordon. I'll be the perfect, invisible shadow. No antics, promise."
The decision to initiate the stealth control came swiftly and without ceremony. In the privacy of their villa, Gordon held the small transmitter, a device no larger than a pocket watch, and connected to the receiver implanted on Sherry. The world swirled around him for a moment, and then, darkness.
When he woke up, he found himself seated at the resort bar, ambient music softly playing in the background. He was now in Sherry's body, her senses his, her world his to navigate. As he came to terms with the transfer, he took a moment to observe his new surroundings.
The air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and tropical drinks, mixed with the salty tang of the nearby ocean. His ears picked up the faint laughter and chatter of other guests, the clinking of glasses, and the distant crash of waves against the shore. It was a sensory overload compared to the quiet solitude of the CBI headquarters, and Gordon had to suppress a wave of vertigo.
Cautiously, he glanced down at his new body. It was strange to see Sherry's slender fingers resting on the bar counter instead of his own callused hands. He could feel the cool, polished surface of the bar under these fingers, the smooth grain of the wood distinct and real.
Sherry was dressed for a night on the town, in a little black dress that shimmered under the warm lighting of the bar. He could feel the soft fabric against his skin, the hemline resting high on his - no, Sherry's - thighs. The sensation of the strappy heels on his feet was new and uncomfortable. It felt like he was walking on stilts, precariously balancing with every step.
Just as he was grappling with the surreal experience, Ashley approached. She was dressed equally stylish, a bright smile on her face as she took the seat next to Sherry's body. "Sherry, you were right! This place is fabulous!"
Keeping up appearances, Gordon forced a smile, trying to mimic Sherry's mean-spirited charm. "Told you, didn't I? Only the best for us, Ash."
Gordon, having assumed the role of Sherry, felt a rush of panic as Ashley, buzzing with youthful exuberance, grabbed his - her - hand. "Let's dance, Sherry!" she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Before Gordon could utter a word of protest, Ashley had pulled him onto the dance floor. The pulsing beat of the music seemed to engulf him, the rhythm a foreign language his body did not speak.
He found himself in the midst of a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, the flashing strobe lights illuminating the dance floor in a frenetic array. The energy was contagious, the crowd swaying and moving as one, but Gordon felt like an intruder in this world. He was an agent, trained to navigate the darkest corners of the world, not a dance floor.
Despite his discomfort, Gordon pushed aside his reservations, trying to mimic the moves of the people around him. He attempted to keep a safe distance from Ashley, but she seemed keen on dancing more intimately, matching the rhythm and closeness of the other dancers.
The heels were another challenge altogether. With each step, he could feel his balance falter. It was a stark contrast to his usual surefootedness in sturdy combat boots. He cursed Jacob under his breath - this was a world he was unprepared for.
To add to his mounting discomfort, the hemline of Sherry's dress seemed determined to defy gravity, riding up with every movement he made. It was a battle to keep pulling it down, all the while trying to maintain his balance and continue the dance.
"I didn't know you were so shy, Sherry," Ashley giggled, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "You usually take the lead."
Gordon laughed, hoping it sounded genuine. "I guess, it's just one of those nights, Ash. Let's just enjoy the music, shall we?"
As the music blared and bodies swayed around him, Gordon realized that he was not just in uncharted territory. He was on a battlefield, far removed from his comfort zone. But, as with all battles, he would adapt and overcome.
As the tempo of the music began to slow down, two men approached them. One was a tall, dark-haired man with a charming smile, while the other had sandy hair and blue eyes that held a hint of mischief. Ashley, ever the social butterfly, eagerly introduced herself and, in a matter of moments, was whisked away to the other side of the dance floor by the dark-haired stranger.
Gordon, still in Sherry's body, was left alone with the sandy-haired man. He was named Chris, a name Gordon committed to memory in case it was needed later. As the man extended his hand to him, inviting him for the slow dance, Gordon felt a pang of unease. This was far from the battlefields he was used to.
As Chris pulled him closer, Gordon felt the distinct discomfort of being in an attractive woman's body. The warmth of the man’s body was uncomfortably intimate, his hand resting at the small of Sherry's back felt invasive, and the smell of his aftershave was too potent, a little too sweet for Gordon's liking.
Gordon forced a smile, playing along with the dance, his body moving in sync with the rhythm. He kept reminding himself that this was all a part of the mission, a necessary discomfort for the greater cause. But, as Chris's hand moved a little too low for Gordon's comfort, he found himself fighting a blush of embarrassment. The feeling was both foreign and unsettling.
"Sherry, you're quite the dancer," Chris murmured, his gaze appreciative, as Gordon tottered around awkwardly in Sherry’s heels.
"I bet you say that to all your girlfriends." Gordon replied in his high pitched voice, trying his best to emulate Sherry's sharp and sassy tone.
__________________
Jacob sat across the room, sipping on a glass of whiskey as he observed the dance floor. His trained eyes scanned the crowd, on the lookout for any signs of danger. But, his attention inevitably strayed to the sight of Gordon, in Sherry's body, tottering about like a newborn lamb on the dance floor.
A smirk spread across Jacob's face, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The usually stern and upstanding Gordon was now attempting to navigate the world of high heels and mini dresses, and from Jacob's perspective, it was a sight to behold.
He watched as Gordon, or rather Sherry, swayed gently to the rhythm of the music, an awkward contrast to the fluid movements of his dancing partner. Jacob stifled a laugh as he saw Gordon struggling to pull the dress down, only for it to rebelliously creep back up.
His gaze then slid to Sherry's legs, an aspect of her appearance he hadn't previously given much thought. The dress, although a source of discomfort for Gordon, did accentuate the length and graceful curve of her legs. A pang of appreciation and regret hit Jacob simultaneously. He couldn't deny that Sherry's body was appealing, yet it brought back a surge of memories from earlier in the day - memories he tried to suppress, but couldn't help revisiting.
Jacob sighed, taking another sip of his whiskey. His smirk morphed into a serious expression as he forced his attention back onto his duty.
Just as Jacob was about to glance back at Gordon, a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He squinted, his gaze zeroing in on a familiar face in the crowd. It was Barbara, the Asian woman from their briefing, her tall and curvy frame immediately recognizable.
His heart pounded a little faster as he noticed her subtly trailing after Ashley, who was now being led away by her dark-haired dance partner. Jacob shot a quick look towards Gordon, who was still entangled in a dance with Chris, completely oblivious to Ashley's movement.
With a roll of his eyes, Jacob pushed away his amusement at Gordon's situation. This was not the time for distractions. He slid off his barstool, leaving his whiskey behind, and started towards Barbara. He blended effortlessly with the crowd, his black suit camouflaging him in the dimly lit room.
As he neared Barbara, he fell into his well-rehearsed pattern of shadowing a target, maintaining a safe distance while keeping her in his line of sight. His hand subtly rested on the small device in his pocket - the stealth control transmitter & receiver pair - just in case he needed it.
Jacob was an expert at this - the stalking, the anticipation. The adrenaline rush was a part of his job he genuinely relished. A predatory smile curled on his lips as he thought of what he might have to do next.
__________________
For Ashley, the evening was a thrilling dance of laughter, flirting, and cocktails. Yet, something was off. Sherry, her usually energetic and vivacious friend, had been acting weird all night. Her antics on the dance floor were one thing, but the occasional stiff body language and the moments of awkward silence were entirely unlike her.
But these concerns paled as she found herself being led off the dance floor by the charming man she'd met earlier. He introduced himself as Tom, and the way he spun her around the dance floor had her head spinning with delight. It was the way he whispered compliments into her ear, his lips brushing against her hair, that kept her enchanted.
However, as they ventured further into the quieter, more secluded parts of the resort, a flicker of apprehension ignited within her. The lights of the dance floor were fading, replaced by the low hum of the backstage area. It felt wrong, almost predatory. Tom, her partner, no longer looked charming but sinister under the harsh backstage lights.
Before Ashley could process her thoughts and voice her concerns, a strong hand clamped around her mouth, silencing her surprised yelp. Her heart hammered in her chest as she was yanked off her feet and into the obscurity of a darkened room. The last sight she caught was that of Tom, a twisted smile playing on his lips as the door shut, plunging her into darkness.
_____________
Jacob swore as he walked off the dance floor, following Barbara’s mesmerising hips. He’d lost track of Ashley. He could have sworn she’d come this way just a moment ago. In a blur of colors and movement, he stopped in his tracks, eyes scanning the crowd in a frantic attempt to spot her. She had vanished. He cursed under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. He'd let himself be distracted by Barbara's tantalizing movements, the hypnotic sway of her hips, the seductive bend of her spine as she moved with the rhythm of the music.
He looked back toward her as she pushed through a door to the backstage area. Those damn beautiful legs, with their thick muscles, silky curves, and glinting steel…
Wait, what?
He squinted. Strapped to Barbara’s thigh, just showing under the bunched up fabric of her dress, was a small, but lethal-looking knife. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Barbara was the assassin they had been warned about.
He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze to remain focused. It was easy to get lost in the appreciation of her form, but the sight of the weapon brought him back to reality. He was not here to admire. He was here to protect.
He watched as Barbara made her way off the dance floor, her gait smooth and purposeful. His gut told him that Ashley was in danger, and he had to act fast. His fingers curled around the receiver in his pocket, ready to make his move. Now was not the time for admiring; now was the time for action.
The door to the backstage area swung shut behind Barbara, separating her from the bustling dance floor. The echo of her exit rumbled in Jacob's ears, setting his adrenaline surging. He'd let Ashley out of his sight once already, and he couldn't let it happen again.
With a newfound determination, Jacob took off after Barbara, his footfalls silent against the resort's plush carpeting. He wove his way through the throng of party-goers, his gaze fixed on the door Barbara had just passed through.
The backstage corridor was a sharp contrast to the vibrant scene they'd left behind. The din of the party was muffled here, replaced by the low hum of equipment and hushed conversations of staff. There, just a few strides away, Barbara moved with a killer's grace, her body coiled like a viper ready to strike.
Taking advantage of her lack of awareness, Jacob made his move. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between them and attached the stealth control receiver to the back of her neck. It adhered with a near-silent click, an unassuming speck on her tanned skin.
A rush of adrenaline swept over him. He was about to step into the shoes of an assassin. He couldn't afford to mess this up. His own body fell into its unresponsive slumber as he activated the transmitter, his consciousness diving into the unknown territory of Barbara's mind and body.
The transfer was instantaneous, like diving headfirst into a cold pool. One moment, Jacob was on the precipice of the transition; the next, he was immersed in the mind and body of an assassin. His first instinct was to familiarize himself with his new form.
Flexing his — no, Barbara's — fingers, he traced the curvaceous lines of her body. The strength beneath the feminine exterior was not lost on him; every curve, every muscle was toned and firm, sculpted by years of disciplined training.
He took a moment to chastise her for her line of work, delivering a firm slap to her cheek. The sensation was jarring. He could feel both the sting of the slap and the tremor that ran through her hand. His lips curled into a smirk at the absurdity of the act.
His gaze traveled downwards, observing the dress that clung to her like a second skin. He raised an eyebrow, taking in the sight of her attractive form. Being in a woman's body was one thing; being in the body of an attractive assassin was an entirely different ballgame.
He quickly pulled out the skin tight dress to stare down into his new cleavage. What was the point of taking over a female form if you couldn’t admire it, anyway? He shook his hips side to side, noticing the strange sensation that his legs were further apart then they should be. He quickly felt between his legs and smirked. He loved being a woman.
Jacob found himself musing about what life might be like for Barbara. How often did she use her beauty as a weapon, ensnaring her targets in a web of desire before delivering the final blow? How did she navigate the world of shadowy figures and deadly contracts while maintaining her femininity? It was a world he was about to explore, albeit temporarily. He only hoped he could navigate it as well as she did.
_____________________
Sherry found herself in the throes of a dance she didn't understand. It was a slow dance, her body swaying rhythmlessly, almost clumsily in a stranger's arms. The guy, a young man with a keen interest in her, had a grip on her that seemed too firm, too persistent. But for reasons unknown, she didn't pull away.
She was usually more composed, her moves fluid and natural. Tonight, though, something was off. Each step she took felt like a struggle, her legs buckling under her as if they had forgotten how to dance. Her signature grace was replaced with an awkwardness that puzzled her. It was as if her body was operating independently, responding to cues that she wasn't consciously giving.
It wasn't just her dance skills that were off, it was her entire perception. She felt detached from her actions, like a spectator in her own body. "What is happening to me?" she thought, as she once again found herself gently brushing down the front of her dress, between her legs, as if something was missing there.
Her eyes flitted around the room, desperately seeking a familiar face. Ashley was nowhere to be seen. A twinge of worry gnawed at her. She considered breaking away from the dance to find her, but her body continued to sway to the rhythm of the song. For the moment, she was trapped in the dance, locked in the arms of a stranger, her concern for Ashley gnawing at the back of her mind.
____________________________
Ashley was trying to keep her calm. Her wrists were bound together with a harsh, biting cord, her body shoved onto a chair in a dim, musty room. The man, who she now knew as Tom, was pacing restlessly in front of her.
Tom had a gruff exterior, his features hardened by what Ashley could only assume were years spent in illicit activities. He was irritated, glancing at the door every few seconds, his grumbles growing louder as time passed.
"Where the hell is she?" Tom growled under his breath, his gaze darting towards the old, rusty clock hanging off-kilter on the wall. The room, which seemed to be some sort of storage area, echoed with the loud ticking of the clock, punctuating the heavy silence that lay between them.
Ashley felt a wave of dread wash over her. She didn't know who they were waiting for, but she was certain that her appearance wouldn't bode well for her. Her mind raced, thoughts whirling in a tornado of fear and anxiety.
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open, revealing the silhouette of a woman. Barbara. Ashley knew her only casually from their classes, but she had always had a cold, distant demeanor. Ashley watched her with wide, fearful eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. Barbara stalked into the room, her eyes glinting dangerously. Tom straightened, a surprised grunt escaping his lips.
"Finally," he growled. "What took you so--"
His sentence was cut off as Barbara lunged at him. It happened so fast that Ashley barely had time to blink. One moment, Tom was standing, the next, he was sprawled on the floor with Barbara on top of him. She moved with a grace and precision that belied her size. Her fists rained down on Tom, and Ashley could hear the dull thud of each punch landing.
Tom fought back, his surprise turning into a snarl of anger. But Barbara – or was it Barbara? - was relentless. It was as if she was a completely different person, her eyes filled with a cold fury that Ashley had never seen before.
There was a crack, a yelp of pain from Tom, and then silence. Barbara rose, leaving Tom lying motionless on the floor. She turned towards Ashley, and for a moment, Ashley's heart seized in terror.
But then, Barbara – no, this couldn’t be Barbara - merely crossed the room to where Ashley sat, her eyes filled with an intensity that made her shiver. Her hands, surprisingly gentle, began to work at the cords binding Ashley. As she was freed, Ashley felt a rush of relief, her mind a whirl of questions.
Who was this woman really? And why had she come to her rescue?
_________________
It was strange. Jacob had been in female bodies before but somehow, controlling Barbara was different. There was a raw, physical power in her, a vitality that felt foreign and exhilarating. He flexed her hands, still tingling from the impact against Tom's face. He had managed to put the brute down, but not without some struggle. Women weren't supposed to be as strong as men, or so Jacob thought, but Barbara was an exception.
At the same time, he was irked. Controlling Barbara’s body had revealed a new set of challenges. Her strength wasn’t the same as his own, particularly his arms. It had taken quite a few punches to deal with Tom, and his knuckles were painful and swelling. As he kneeled to untie Ashley, he felt a pulse of fatigue.
"Who are you?" Ashley stuttered as the ropes loosened.
Jacob paused, a grimace crossing Barbara's face. "It's me, Ashley," he said, trying to infuse Barbara's voice with as much of his own character as possible. "Jacob. I’m using the stealth control tech."
He saw the confusion flicker across Ashley’s face before comprehension dawned on her. Her eyes widened in shock. "Jacob? Really?”
"We’ll have time for questions later," Jacob interrupted, finishing untying her. "Right now, we need to get you out of here."
As he stood up, he once again took a moment to appreciate the body he was controlling. Powerful, agile and, he had to admit, seductive. Barbara was a woman to be reckoned with. If he had his way, he wouldn't mind using this body a bit more.
Jacob felt Ashley stiffen as they approached his own limp body lying unnoticed in the corridor. He hated seeing himself like this - vulnerable and defenseless. It was a risk of the stealth control tech, but a necessary one.
“Jacob?” Ashley’s voice quivered, “Is that… your body?”
“Yeah, it is,” Jacob replied with a curt nod, feeling a grim satisfaction at the shock on Ashley’s face. He let go of her arm and knelt beside his own body. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a spare receiver, a near-invisible piece of technology that was the size of a coin.
"Here, turn around," Jacob instructed, holding the receiver up.
“What are you doing?” Ashley asked, a note of panic edging into her voice as she moved away.
Jacob rose to his feet, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you saw what happened tonight, right? Clearly, you need more protection. This," he said, holding the receiver up, "this will let me keep a closer eye on you."
Ashley looked from the receiver to Jacob’s unconscious body and then back to Barbara, a dawning realization in her eyes. “You want to control me too?”
“Only if necessary,” Jacob replied, his voice firm. “Besides, I did just save your life.”
Ashley hesitated for a moment longer, her gaze darting between Barbara and Jacob’s limp body. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she turned around. As Jacob attached the receiver onto the back of her neck, he could feel her shudder under his touch.
“Don’t worry, Ashley,” Jacob reassured her, “You’re in safe hands.” A grin spread across Barbara’s face as he said it.
“Um… okay.” said Ashley. “I’m going to head back up to my room now. Tell Sherry where I went.”
With that, she scampered away. Was it safe to let her run off by herself like that? Jacob thought. How many times could somebody get kidnapped in one night anyway?
Some part of him said probably more than once, but fuck it. He pushed through the door back into the club.
With Ashley finally off to safety, Jacob turned his attention back to the dance floor. He scanned the throng of gyrating bodies and found Gordon, still looking completely out of sorts in Sherry's body. His movements were clunky and unsure, like a fawn taking its first steps. A smirk played on Jacob's lips as he moved towards him.
As he approached, he saw a group of young men watching Gordon with a mix of amusement and lustful curiosity. "Excuse me, gents," Jacob said in Barbara's sultry voice, sliding between them with an ease that belied his masculine mind.
He reached Gordon and took his hands, leading him onto the dance floor. He could feel Gordon stiffen in surprise but made no attempt to pull away.
"Sherry," Jacob said, grinning mischievously, "you dance like you have two left feet. Let me show you how it's done."
Gordon, looking surprised, stuttered a reply. "Barbara? What are you—"
Jacob silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shh. Dance with me, Sherry."
With that, Jacob led the dance. As Barbara, he moved fluidly, sensually, leading Sherry around the dance floor in a dance that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Jacob revelled in the moment, both in the control he held over the situation and in the pleasure of making Gordon squirm.
As the music swelled, Jacob spun Sherry out and then pulled her back in. Sherry's surprised yelp was swallowed by the cheers of the crowd. Jacob could barely contain his laughter as Gordon, wide-eyed and flushed, stared at him.
The song ended, and Jacob released Gordon, flashing him a smug smile. "That," he said, pointing a finger at Gordon, "is how you dance."
Jacob lowered Barbara’s already sultry voice. “Want to see how you do… something else?”
Sherry’s body stared up at him, eyes wide, and reached a hesitant hand around the side of Barbara’s neck. Jacob felt the fingers explore, settling on the receiver still attached just above the spine.
A look of understanding passed over Sherry’s face, and then she gave a small, subtle nod. Jacob leaned in for a kiss. The frat boys around them cheered.
_______________
Five drinks later, the two agents turned college girls were in each other's arms, sloppily alternating between making out and examining their new bodies.
“I think Sherry is a- a lightweight” giggled Gordon, blushing at the situation. “Here I am, a twenty one year old girl, or a fifty six year old man, or a jesus…”
“I don’t think you’re Jesus,” smirked Jacob. He used Barbara’s hand to fondle one of Sherry’s breasts. “He wasn’t nearly this stacked.”
“Should we… should we…” Gordon started.
“Find somewhere more private? Sure.” Jacob forced himself to his feet, once again admiring the long, feminine legs that stretched out before him.
“I was going to say dis- disengage” grumbled Gordon. “But I think I like your idea better.”
He nearly rolled one of Sherry’s ankles as he stumbled to his feet. He leaned on Barbara’s body as the two of them snuck away from the emptying bar and up to a room.
“You know the best thing about being a girl?” said Gordon drunkenly. “Everybody wants to have sex with you. Tom wanted to have sex with me. Chris wanted to have sex with me. Even hot college girls like Barbara want to have sex with me.”
He fell back onto the bed, rubbing his legs together.
“Evvveeerybody wants to have sex with me. I’m a sex god.”
“I’m not a college girl.” said Jacob, smirking as he took off his dress.
“Assassin, whatever.”
Jacob laughed. He reached underneath Sherry’s dress and pulled down her silk panties.
“And you know the worst part about being a girl? Evvverrrybody wants to have sex with me. What if I don’t want to have sex with them?”
Jacob pawed at one of Sherry's legs, nibbling at her thigh. Gordon mewed at him.
“I don’t get to turn it off. They always want to have sexxxx, even if I don’t want to. Every guy was staaaaaring at me. Half the girls were staring at me.”
Jacob tore off his own underwear and frowned down at his flat crotch. Oh yeah.
“Being a girl suuuuuuccccks. Everybody always wants to have seeeexxx with me.”
“Being a girl sucks alright”, thought Jacob as he drunkenly felt around between his legs. “How the fuck am I meant to have sex without a dick?”
He grunted and stared down at the hot, horny woman that was lying on her back in front of him, so wet it was running onto the sheets. He was so damn turned on. He would have had a throbbing erection if he was in his own body.
He looked down at himself. Past the large, hanging breasts, and to the bare vagina nestled between his thighs. He spread the labia uselessly, growly with frustration as he squinted, trying to see anything but the tiny clit that was pulsing there. It was so damn small. What the fuck was he meant to do with that?
“I’ll be right back,” Jacob growled. Gordon moaned in disappointment and began feeling himself up.
“You’re meant to rub it.” said Gordon, absentmindedly, as he began to use Sherry’s hands on her own body.
Jacob barged out of the door.
________________________________
Sherry was having a hell of a night. First she found she couldn’t dance for shit, next she spent like an hour being felt up by the same uncharming douchebag, and then she got drunk and made out with one of Ashley’s random college friends – Barbara? What was her name?
She stared down at herself, spreadeagled on the bed, horny as she had ever been. Now Barbara had disappeared, god knows where, and she could barely get herself off.
“Ugh!” she moaned in frustration. “This is way harder than it looks!”
She cupped her boob in one hand and tried to stick out her tongue to lick it, but couldn’t reach. Her other hand grabbed at her clit, tugging it up and down like a tiny little dick. Why wasn’t she acting normal? It usually took her two minutes to get off and go to sleep!
“Fuck this!” she huffed and collapsed back onto the bed. She raised her bare legs into the air and stared at them. One leg, two legs, kicking in the air.
She admired her toes as she flexed them about, rubbing one leg up and down the other. She had never really looked at herself like this before, but she had to admit, she had nice legs. She blew a kissy face at them.
“Hellloooo toes,” she chortled.
She moaned again in frustration. She didn’t want to talk to her toes. She wanted to get off! She’d been alternating between horny and frustrated all night – not to mention seemingly fascinated with her own body. What was that all about?
The door burst open.
“Still awake?” came a man’s voice. “It took me a while to sort out Barbara’s body, hand her over to the cops, make sure Ashley was safe, etcetera, etcetera.”
Sherry just stared at him. What the fuck was Jacob doing in her room?
“Nice view, boss.” he said, staring right up at her. Her legs were still raised in the air, her bare nether region exposed. She thought she should maybe cover up, but decided, why not let the perv get a view? Closest someone like him would ever get to her!
Jacob tore his pants off. “Glad you could save it for me.”
“Never tell anybody about this.” Sherry found herself hissing.
“You got it, boss.”
She looked down to see Jacob’s monster member growing before her eyes. She threw her head back and moaned. Maybe she could have sex with him after all? What’s the worst that could happen? Not like she’d been able to do much without him…
“Hurry up! You better be able to get me off in this damn horny body!”
A thick, meaty hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her along the bed. Then she felt a peculiar sensation of something big touching a hole that she had never felt before…
Of course she had felt that before, what was she thinking?
An alien sensation burst through her in little waves as Jacob’s dick entered her. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the sensation that bore through every nerve in her body.
“It feels so good!” she screamed, “and-what-the-fuck-it-feels-so-weird!”
Jacob began thrusting into her. He grabbed her arms and held them down on either side of her. All she could do was gasp as the sensations overwhelmed her body. In out in out in out.
Jacob grunted. “You like that old man? You like that Sherry?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Fuck both of you! I’m the fucking king! What did either of you do tonight for the mission? What have you ever done for me!”
“No- nothing!”
“You like being made a little bitch, don’t you Gordon? Don’t you Sherry!”
Gordon? What the fuck was he talking about? But Sherry didn’t care, she let out a scream.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me Jacob!”
“Cum like you haven’t had sex in a decade, old man!”
“Twenty five years! This is.. My first time… in twenty five years!”
Sherry was talking nonsense, but who cared? Her eyes rolled back in her head. She saw white. Every muscle in her body spasmed, every nerve cried out, she felt a wave slam into her mind, her fists clenched, her toes kicked, her whole body seized up, Jacob’s dick pulsating inside her, spurting deep into her body!
“OH GOOOOODDDDDD”
She collapsed back onto her bed. Jacob pulled out, and they quickly fell asleep.
______________________________
The next morning, Jacob was having a coffee outside the control room when Gordon, his old body looking tired and sore, grumbled his way out of the sleeping quarters.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word.”
Jacob smirked, and that was that.
In the windowless confines of a government facility buried deep beneath Washington D.C., two men sat opposite each other in an unadorned room, the light from the single overhead bulb pooling around them. One was young, his buzzcut hair making him appear younger than his 28 years, and his brown eyes shone with defiance. The other was older, with the lined face of someone used to bearing weighty responsibility. His blue eyes held a stern, almost desperate look. These men were Jacob and Gordon, agents of the clandestine organization known as the CBI.
The room hummed with a quiet tension as a holographic display flickered to life between them. Images of a young woman with brown hair flashed on the screen. She looked bright, bubbly even, her smile filled with the naiveté of the privileged. Her name, the display read, was Ashley. Her father was a big shot in the government, and she was their next assignment.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze darted from the hologram to his partner. The disdain in his voice was almost tangible. "So, we're playing babysitters now?"
Gordon's stern gaze remained fixed on the display. "We're protecting an innocent life, Jacob," he said, his voice tight. "An innocent life that, if lost, could plunge the country into chaos."
Jacob scoffed, unconvinced. "The rich girl's daddy has a lot of enemies, huh?"
"More than you'd think." Gordon looked at Jacob, his eyes betraying his seriousness. "This isn't just about Ashley. It's about national security."
The display changed to the image of a blonde-haired woman named Sherry and an Asian woman, labelled Barbara. "They're friends of Ashley’s. We’ve known Sherry for quite some time, but Barbara We believe Barbara is new to us. We haven’t been able to verify her identity."
Jacob's eyebrows shot up. "And we're supposed to do what? Use stealth control and become sorority sisters?"
Gordon ignored Jacob's sarcasm. "We're to protect Ashley, and if necessary, neutralize Barbara."
“Neutralize Barbara, Jesus Christ. We don’t even know who she is yet. She could just be some college student!”
There was a moment of silence as both men took in the gravity of their mission. Gordon continued, "We're to use the stealth control, as needed, to keep an eye on the girls without disrupting their holiday plans. We will be meeting them before the mission, so they will know who we are, and that we are there to keep them safe.”
Jacob looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Why am I always the one getting dressed in women's clothes?"
Gordon shrugged and gave a slight smile, "I can’t speak to your previous experience their, Jacob. Perhaps you make a good girl"
“Yeah, fuck you.” Jacob laughed, “We’ll see what happens.”
As the room plunged into darkness, both men rose from their chairs. They had a mission to accomplish. They were CBI agents; their personal feelings had no room in the grand scheme of things.
They were the unseen guardians, ready to step into the lives of the oblivious to keep them safe. It was their duty. Their burden.
“Hey, if you take over Sherry, will you show me her tits?”
It was just another day in the CBI.
______________________________________________
The private jet was an opulent capsule of wealth and privilege, humming smoothly above the clouds. Inside, Jacob and Gordon sat across from Ashley and Sherry. The air was thick with tension as they divulged the secrets of the CBI and their stealth control technology.
Jacob, lounging in his plush seat, was narrating a previous mission with a cheeky grin. "It was a nunnery in Budapest, you see," he began, "I had to infiltrate the sisterhood, become one of them. You wouldn't believe the shenanigans I got up to with those rosary beads."
Gordon winced at Jacob's choice of words. The older man knew that his partner's irreverence towards their technology would not help soothe the girls' anxiety. He cast an apologetic glance at Ashley, who was listening with wide-eyed disbelief.
Sherry, however, was less tolerant. The blonde girl crossed her arms, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "Are you telling me," she began, her voice icy, "that you could just take over one of us without us even knowing? That's... that's gross! It's disgusting!"
Jacob merely shrugged, not at all perturbed by her outrage. "It's the job," he said, leaning back into his seat. "It's not personal. And it's only if necessary. It's all about protecting your dear friend Ashley here."
Ashley looked terrified at the thought of her body being taken over. Sherry, on the other hand, looked downright furious.
Gordon, sensing the escalating tension, decided to intervene. "It's a measure of last resort, ladies," he assured them. "We would not use this technology unless it's absolutely necessary."
"But how can you make that decision?" Sherry protested, her voice shaking. "What gives you the right to use our bodies like... like empty vessels?"
Gordon's gaze hardened. "It's our duty, Miss. We're here to protect Ashley and you from potential harm."
"What potential harm?" Ashley asked, her voice tiny. "We're just on college break."
Gordon's glance slid to Jacob, then back to the girls. "We have reason to believe that one of your college mates, Barbara, might not be who she claims to be."
Sherry's nostrils flared, her sharp eyes narrowing on Jacob. "You probably enjoy this, don't you?" she accused, her voice dripping with contempt. "You get your kicks out of wearing women's bodies. Must be a real ego trip."
Jacob looked unfazed by her accusations. Instead, he let out a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. "You know, Sherry," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "You really should learn to relax. Life's too short to always be angry."
Sherry's retort was cut off as the plane jostled slightly, a patch of turbulence causing everyone to grip their armrests. The distraction provided Jacob with the perfect cover. His hand moved deftly, slipping a small device from his pocket. With a swift, practised movement, he reached out under the guise of steadying Sherry and attached the receiver to the back of her neck.
She gave him a sour look, completely oblivious to the device now nestled under her blonde curls. "Keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, swatting his arm away.
Jacob simply raised his hands in a show of innocence, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Just making sure you're safe, princess."
Gordon shot Jacob a stern look, shaking his head slightly. The younger agent was playing a dangerous game, but Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of time. For now, they had to trust Jacob's instincts, as reckless as they seemed.
As the jet soared above the clouds, a game of cat and mouse was beginning to take shape. Unbeknownst to her, Sherry was now at the mercy of a technology that made her body an unwitting pawn in a high-stakes game. And all around her, eyes watched, ready to protect, and if necessary, to control.
Jacob fished out the small, innocuous-looking device from his pocket. It was the transmitter, the critical piece of technology that could bridge minds. "Now, ladies," he began, holding up the device for them to see, "this little gadget here is the key. It links me to the receiver, allowing me to 'borrow' the body."
Sherry scoffed, her face flushing with anger. "You mean 'hijack,' not 'borrow.'"
Jacob merely shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling into a wry grin. "Potato, potahto."
"And you're planning to use it on me?" Sherry spat, her fingers curling into tight fists. “No way I’ll let you put one of those receiver things on me.”
"Why, Sherry, it's almost like you're worried." Jacob teased, his grin broadening. "I promise you won't feel a thing. One moment you'll be here, the next you'll be... well, still here. But with better decision-making skills."
Gordon frowned at Jacob's flippant remark, but remained silent. Ashley, on the other hand, was growing more anxious by the second. Her wide eyes darted between Jacob, Sherry, and the device in Jacob's hand.
"But... how can you ensure she won't realize?" Ashley asked, her voice quivering.
Jacob leaned back, clasping the transmitter device in his hand. "That's the beauty of it, Ashley. The person being controlled won't even realize they're not making their own decisions. They just think they're having a particularly decisive day."
Ashley gulped, her gaze drifting towards Sherry, who was now standing, her eyes blazing with fury. "And what if I refuse?" Sherry snapped, her voice echoing in the confined space of the jet.
Jacob met her gaze unflinchingly, his grin never wavering. "Well, then, princess," he said, his voice deceptively soft, "you can consider this a lesson in diplomacy. Or better yet, consider it... an adventure."
"An adventure?" Sherry scoffed, her eyes alight with a mixture of anger and defiance. "I think you'll find, Jacob, that I'm not as easy to control as you think."
Jacob's grin widened, his gaze meeting hers. "Is that a challenge, princess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes gleamed with anticipation at the thought of finally putting the arrogant heiress in her place.
Beside Sherry, Ashley's brow furrowed in thought. "But... what does it feel like?" she asked quietly. "Being controlled, I mean."
Jacob shifted his attention to Ashley, his grin softening into a gentler smile. "It's like being a passenger in your own body, Ashley," he explained. "You feel everything, you see everything. But the decisions, the actions, they're all made by someone else. And the best part? You won't even realize it's not you."
Ashley chewed on her lower lip, her brown eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. "So... it's like sleepwalking?"
"In a way," Gordon chimed in, his voice steady. "You're aware of everything happening, but it's like you're on autopilot."
"But I can resist, right?" Sherry cut in, her voice filled with determination. "I mean, it's my body. I should be able to fight it."
Jacob chuckled, the sound echoing through the private jet. "I'd love to see you try, princess," he said, his tone filled with a challenge. He was relishing the opportunity to use the stealth control technology, and even more so, the opportunity to take Sherry down a notch.
Gordon watched the exchange quietly. There was an undeniable tension building between Jacob and Sherry, a silent power struggle that hung heavy in the air. As for Ashley, she was a mixture of curiosity and fear. But Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of choice anymore. A game was set to begin, and whether they liked it or not, they were all players.
Jacob lifted the transmitter, his fingers curling around the device. His eyes locked onto Sherry's defiant glare, a predatory grin playing on his lips.
"Let's put your theory to the test, shall we, princess?" His voice was low and taunting, as he pressed a button on the transmitter.
The moment the button was pressed, Jacob's body slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, and a blank expression on his face. Meanwhile, the effect on Sherry was immediate and startling.
Sherry's eyes glazed over for a moment, before a confident, almost mischievous smirk spread across her face - a mirror image of Jacob's. Her posture changed subtly, carrying the swagger and bravado that Jacob exhibited. Her hands reached out, grabbing onto the arms of her chair, and then she was pushing herself up to a standing position.
Inside Sherry's body, Jacob was reveling in his control. His – or rather, Sherry's – hands spread wide as he straightened her back, pushing her shoulders back with an exaggerated flourish. He could feel the luxurious fabric of her clothes, the power of her healthy, young muscles. Sherry's outraged expression had been replaced by his confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of his delight and daring.
"This," he made Sherry's voice purr, gesturing to her body with her hands, "is rather impressive."
Across the aisle, Ashley's eyes went wide with shock, her gaze darting between Sherry's animated form and Jacob's lifeless body. She was silent, her hand hovering uncertainly over her mouth as she grappled with the reality of what she was witnessing.
Gordon's face was a stoic mask, his eyes moving between his own lifeless partner and the heiress, now dancing like a puppet on a string. He noted the smug satisfaction radiating off of 'Sherry', and knew Jacob was thoroughly enjoying himself.
A strange sensation gripped Sherry, but it was not an unpleasant one. It was like waking up in the morning and not quite remembering your dream, but knowing it had been delightful. She found herself giggling, her hands drifting down to the hem of her dress and tugging it experimentally. It was her decision, she thought. Why else would she do it?
She was aware of the luxurious fabric sliding between her fingers, of the way it hugged her figure. She was not usually one to admire herself so openly, yet now she found herself doing just that. She glanced down at her designer heels and in the blink of an eye, decided they were far too constricting. With a small huff, she kicked them off, the shoes sailing through the air with a satisfying arc before landing with a muffled thud.
Her gaze returned to her bare feet, her pedicured toes wriggling against the plush carpet of the jet. The sensation was... liberating. She looked at her own body, her hands exploring the curves of her form, the feeling so natural it was as if she had decided to do it herself.
Yet somewhere, a small part of her mind fluttered with uncertainty. She remembered Jacob's promise, his taunting grin, the way his body had slumped lifelessly. Was it possible that she wasn't in control, that she was just a passenger in her own body?
She pushed the thought away immediately. She was Sherry, the woman who bowed to no one, the woman who was always in control. She was not going to be manipulated by a man who saw her as nothing more than a plaything.
She cupped her breasts with a smirk. Yep, these were hers all right.
The moment was interrupted by Gordon's stern voice, "Alright, Jacob. That's enough. Don't embarrass the girl."
Jacob's smirk, painted on Sherry's face, deepened at his partner's reprimand. With a dramatic bow, he surrendered the controls. The moment he disengaged the transmitter, his own body jerked back to life, a yawn escaping his lips as though he had just woken from a nap.
At the same time, Sherry's body froze, the audacious smirk slowly melting from her face. She blinked, her eyes returning to their usual fierce determination. She looked around, her brows furrowed in confusion, as if waking from an odd dream.
Ashley rushed over to her friend, concern etched into her face. "Sherry, are you okay? What did it feel like?"
Sherry frowned, her hands running down her dress, straightening it out. "What do you mean, 'what did it feel like'? I was just...having a bit of fun, that's all."
"But... but Jacob was controlling you," Ashley stammered, glancing between her friend and the CBI agent. "Didn't you feel that?"
"Nonsense," Sherry huffed, a flush creeping onto her cheeks. "No one controls me. Not even Jacob."
Gordon watched the exchange in silence. If Jacob's demonstration had taught them anything, it was the power and subtlety of the stealth control technology. Even now, Sherry refused to believe she'd been manipulated.
Jacob, meanwhile, stretched in his seat, a satisfied smirk still dancing on his lips. He'd enjoyed the ride more than he'd anticipated, and Sherry's continued denial was just icing on the cake. Despite the underlying seriousness of their mission, he found himself looking forward to what would come next.
It didn’t have to be him that was stuck inside that gorgeous female body, after all.
As the private jet descended onto the private airstrip of the island resort, Ashley and Sherry gazed out the window, their eyes filled with anticipation. From above, the resort looked like a paradise. An ocean of turquoise blue lapped against white sandy beaches, while luxurious villas lay dotted amidst lush, tropical greenery.
Once they'd landed, Ashley and Sherry, fueled by excitement, hurried off the jet and disappeared into the resort. They were seemingly unaffected by the strange events on the plane, or perhaps just choosing to ignore them for now.
With the girls out of earshot, Gordon turned to Jacob. His stern gaze bore into his partner's smirking face. "What you did up there was inappropriate," he chided, his voice low but firm. "This isn't a game, Jacob. We're here to protect Ashley and Sherry, not to make fools of them."
Jacob's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew wider. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Gordon," he said casually. "But I also think it's important to enjoy your work, don't you?"
Gordon sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is serious, Jacob. We have a mission."
Jacob rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. All serious and no play. But tell you what, Gordon. Next time, you get to do the controlling. I'd love to see what 'fun' you'd have with Sherry."
Gordon's face blanched at the thought. "Jacob, I..."
Jacob cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No arguments, Gordon. We'll see how much of a straight shooter you are then."
As Jacob walked off towards the resort, leaving a dumbstruck Gordon behind, he couldn't help but chuckle. His mission had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
___________________________
Inside one of the private villas in the resort, Gordon and Jacob had swiftly set up their temporary base of operations. Surveillance equipment was neatly arranged across the tables, while a screen displayed the layout of the entire resort. Here, they would keep a close eye on Ashley and Sherry while blending into the luxurious backdrop of their surroundings.
The evening brought with it a gentle breeze that swept across the balcony of the villa, rustling the leaves of the palm trees outside. Gordon found himself standing there, staring out into the approaching dusk, his thoughts burdened by the prospect of the task ahead.
Jacob joined him, his posture relaxed, a glass of some exotic drink in his hand. "Nervous, Gordon?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.
Gordon shot him a sidelong glance. "I just... I don't agree with this method. It feels wrong."
Jacob chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "You'll get used to it. Besides, we're doing this for Ashley, remember? So she can enjoy her break with her friends, oblivious to the danger lurking around."
Gordon sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face. "Fine. I'll take over Sherry. But you're tailing us in your own body. No more 'fun' at their expense."
Jacob laughed, raising his glass. "Deal. And don't worry, Gordon. I'll be the perfect, invisible shadow. No antics, promise."
The decision to initiate the stealth control came swiftly and without ceremony. In the privacy of their villa, Gordon held the small transmitter, a device no larger than a pocket watch, and connected to the receiver implanted on Sherry. The world swirled around him for a moment, and then, darkness.
When he woke up, he found himself seated at the resort bar, ambient music softly playing in the background. He was now in Sherry's body, her senses his, her world his to navigate. As he came to terms with the transfer, he took a moment to observe his new surroundings.
The air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and tropical drinks, mixed with the salty tang of the nearby ocean. His ears picked up the faint laughter and chatter of other guests, the clinking of glasses, and the distant crash of waves against the shore. It was a sensory overload compared to the quiet solitude of the CBI headquarters, and Gordon had to suppress a wave of vertigo.
Cautiously, he glanced down at his new body. It was strange to see Sherry's slender fingers resting on the bar counter instead of his own callused hands. He could feel the cool, polished surface of the bar under these fingers, the smooth grain of the wood distinct and real.
Sherry was dressed for a night on the town, in a little black dress that shimmered under the warm lighting of the bar. He could feel the soft fabric against his skin, the hemline resting high on his - no, Sherry's - thighs. The sensation of the strappy heels on his feet was new and uncomfortable. It felt like he was walking on stilts, precariously balancing with every step.
Just as he was grappling with the surreal experience, Ashley approached. She was dressed equally stylish, a bright smile on her face as she took the seat next to Sherry's body. "Sherry, you were right! This place is fabulous!"
Keeping up appearances, Gordon forced a smile, trying to mimic Sherry's mean-spirited charm. "Told you, didn't I? Only the best for us, Ash."
Gordon, having assumed the role of Sherry, felt a rush of panic as Ashley, buzzing with youthful exuberance, grabbed his - her - hand. "Let's dance, Sherry!" she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Before Gordon could utter a word of protest, Ashley had pulled him onto the dance floor. The pulsing beat of the music seemed to engulf him, the rhythm a foreign language his body did not speak.
He found himself in the midst of a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, the flashing strobe lights illuminating the dance floor in a frenetic array. The energy was contagious, the crowd swaying and moving as one, but Gordon felt like an intruder in this world. He was an agent, trained to navigate the darkest corners of the world, not a dance floor.
Despite his discomfort, Gordon pushed aside his reservations, trying to mimic the moves of the people around him. He attempted to keep a safe distance from Ashley, but she seemed keen on dancing more intimately, matching the rhythm and closeness of the other dancers.
The heels were another challenge altogether. With each step, he could feel his balance falter. It was a stark contrast to his usual surefootedness in sturdy combat boots. He cursed Jacob under his breath - this was a world he was unprepared for.
To add to his mounting discomfort, the hemline of Sherry's dress seemed determined to defy gravity, riding up with every movement he made. It was a battle to keep pulling it down, all the while trying to maintain his balance and continue the dance.
"I didn't know you were so shy, Sherry," Ashley giggled, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "You usually take the lead."
Gordon laughed, hoping it sounded genuine. "I guess, it's just one of those nights, Ash. Let's just enjoy the music, shall we?"
As the music blared and bodies swayed around him, Gordon realized that he was not just in uncharted territory. He was on a battlefield, far removed from his comfort zone. But, as with all battles, he would adapt and overcome.
As the tempo of the music began to slow down, two men approached them. One was a tall, dark-haired man with a charming smile, while the other had sandy hair and blue eyes that held a hint of mischief. Ashley, ever the social butterfly, eagerly introduced herself and, in a matter of moments, was whisked away to the other side of the dance floor by the dark-haired stranger.
Gordon, still in Sherry's body, was left alone with the sandy-haired man. He was named Chris, a name Gordon committed to memory in case it was needed later. As the man extended his hand to him, inviting him for the slow dance, Gordon felt a pang of unease. This was far from the battlefields he was used to.
As Chris pulled him closer, Gordon felt the distinct discomfort of being in an attractive woman's body. The warmth of the man’s body was uncomfortably intimate, his hand resting at the small of Sherry's back felt invasive, and the smell of his aftershave was too potent, a little too sweet for Gordon's liking.
Gordon forced a smile, playing along with the dance, his body moving in sync with the rhythm. He kept reminding himself that this was all a part of the mission, a necessary discomfort for the greater cause. But, as Chris's hand moved a little too low for Gordon's comfort, he found himself fighting a blush of embarrassment. The feeling was both foreign and unsettling.
"Sherry, you're quite the dancer," Chris murmured, his gaze appreciative, as Gordon tottered around awkwardly in Sherry’s heels.
"I bet you say that to all your girlfriends." Gordon replied in his high pitched voice, trying his best to emulate Sherry's sharp and sassy tone.
__________________
Jacob sat across the room, sipping on a glass of whiskey as he observed the dance floor. His trained eyes scanned the crowd, on the lookout for any signs of danger. But, his attention inevitably strayed to the sight of Gordon, in Sherry's body, tottering about like a newborn lamb on the dance floor.
A smirk spread across Jacob's face, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The usually stern and upstanding Gordon was now attempting to navigate the world of high heels and mini dresses, and from Jacob's perspective, it was a sight to behold.
He watched as Gordon, or rather Sherry, swayed gently to the rhythm of the music, an awkward contrast to the fluid movements of his dancing partner. Jacob stifled a laugh as he saw Gordon struggling to pull the dress down, only for it to rebelliously creep back up.
His gaze then slid to Sherry's legs, an aspect of her appearance he hadn't previously given much thought. The dress, although a source of discomfort for Gordon, did accentuate the length and graceful curve of her legs. A pang of appreciation and regret hit Jacob simultaneously. He couldn't deny that Sherry's body was appealing, yet it brought back a surge of memories from earlier in the day - memories he tried to suppress, but couldn't help revisiting.
Jacob sighed, taking another sip of his whiskey. His smirk morphed into a serious expression as he forced his attention back onto his duty.
Just as Jacob was about to glance back at Gordon, a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He squinted, his gaze zeroing in on a familiar face in the crowd. It was Barbara, the Asian woman from their briefing, her tall and curvy frame immediately recognizable.
His heart pounded a little faster as he noticed her subtly trailing after Ashley, who was now being led away by her dark-haired dance partner. Jacob shot a quick look towards Gordon, who was still entangled in a dance with Chris, completely oblivious to Ashley's movement.
With a roll of his eyes, Jacob pushed away his amusement at Gordon's situation. This was not the time for distractions. He slid off his barstool, leaving his whiskey behind, and started towards Barbara. He blended effortlessly with the crowd, his black suit camouflaging him in the dimly lit room.
As he neared Barbara, he fell into his well-rehearsed pattern of shadowing a target, maintaining a safe distance while keeping her in his line of sight. His hand subtly rested on the small device in his pocket - the stealth control transmitter & receiver pair - just in case he needed it.
Jacob was an expert at this - the stalking, the anticipation. The adrenaline rush was a part of his job he genuinely relished. A predatory smile curled on his lips as he thought of what he might have to do next.
__________________
For Ashley, the evening was a thrilling dance of laughter, flirting, and cocktails. Yet, something was off. Sherry, her usually energetic and vivacious friend, had been acting weird all night. Her antics on the dance floor were one thing, but the occasional stiff body language and the moments of awkward silence were entirely unlike her.
But these concerns paled as she found herself being led off the dance floor by the charming man she'd met earlier. He introduced himself as Tom, and the way he spun her around the dance floor had her head spinning with delight. It was the way he whispered compliments into her ear, his lips brushing against her hair, that kept her enchanted.
However, as they ventured further into the quieter, more secluded parts of the resort, a flicker of apprehension ignited within her. The lights of the dance floor were fading, replaced by the low hum of the backstage area. It felt wrong, almost predatory. Tom, her partner, no longer looked charming but sinister under the harsh backstage lights.
Before Ashley could process her thoughts and voice her concerns, a strong hand clamped around her mouth, silencing her surprised yelp. Her heart hammered in her chest as she was yanked off her feet and into the obscurity of a darkened room. The last sight she caught was that of Tom, a twisted smile playing on his lips as the door shut, plunging her into darkness.
_____________
Jacob swore as he walked off the dance floor, following Barbara’s mesmerising hips. He’d lost track of Ashley. He could have sworn she’d come this way just a moment ago. In a blur of colors and movement, he stopped in his tracks, eyes scanning the crowd in a frantic attempt to spot her. She had vanished. He cursed under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. He'd let himself be distracted by Barbara's tantalizing movements, the hypnotic sway of her hips, the seductive bend of her spine as she moved with the rhythm of the music.
He looked back toward her as she pushed through a door to the backstage area. Those damn beautiful legs, with their thick muscles, silky curves, and glinting steel…
Wait, what?
He squinted. Strapped to Barbara’s thigh, just showing under the bunched up fabric of her dress, was a small, but lethal-looking knife. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Barbara was the assassin they had been warned about.
He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze to remain focused. It was easy to get lost in the appreciation of her form, but the sight of the weapon brought him back to reality. He was not here to admire. He was here to protect.
He watched as Barbara made her way off the dance floor, her gait smooth and purposeful. His gut told him that Ashley was in danger, and he had to act fast. His fingers curled around the receiver in his pocket, ready to make his move. Now was not the time for admiring; now was the time for action.
The door to the backstage area swung shut behind Barbara, separating her from the bustling dance floor. The echo of her exit rumbled in Jacob's ears, setting his adrenaline surging. He'd let Ashley out of his sight once already, and he couldn't let it happen again.
With a newfound determination, Jacob took off after Barbara, his footfalls silent against the resort's plush carpeting. He wove his way through the throng of party-goers, his gaze fixed on the door Barbara had just passed through.
The backstage corridor was a sharp contrast to the vibrant scene they'd left behind. The din of the party was muffled here, replaced by the low hum of equipment and hushed conversations of staff. There, just a few strides away, Barbara moved with a killer's grace, her body coiled like a viper ready to strike.
Taking advantage of her lack of awareness, Jacob made his move. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between them and attached the stealth control receiver to the back of her neck. It adhered with a near-silent click, an unassuming speck on her tanned skin.
A rush of adrenaline swept over him. He was about to step into the shoes of an assassin. He couldn't afford to mess this up. His own body fell into its unresponsive slumber as he activated the transmitter, his consciousness diving into the unknown territory of Barbara's mind and body.
The transfer was instantaneous, like diving headfirst into a cold pool. One moment, Jacob was on the precipice of the transition; the next, he was immersed in the mind and body of an assassin. His first instinct was to familiarize himself with his new form.
Flexing his — no, Barbara's — fingers, he traced the curvaceous lines of her body. The strength beneath the feminine exterior was not lost on him; every curve, every muscle was toned and firm, sculpted by years of disciplined training.
He took a moment to chastise her for her line of work, delivering a firm slap to her cheek. The sensation was jarring. He could feel both the sting of the slap and the tremor that ran through her hand. His lips curled into a smirk at the absurdity of the act.
His gaze traveled downwards, observing the dress that clung to her like a second skin. He raised an eyebrow, taking in the sight of her attractive form. Being in a woman's body was one thing; being in the body of an attractive assassin was an entirely different ballgame.
He quickly pulled out the skin tight dress to stare down into his new cleavage. What was the point of taking over a female form if you couldn’t admire it, anyway? He shook his hips side to side, noticing the strange sensation that his legs were further apart then they should be. He quickly felt between his legs and smirked. He loved being a woman.
Jacob found himself musing about what life might be like for Barbara. How often did she use her beauty as a weapon, ensnaring her targets in a web of desire before delivering the final blow? How did she navigate the world of shadowy figures and deadly contracts while maintaining her femininity? It was a world he was about to explore, albeit temporarily. He only hoped he could navigate it as well as she did.
_____________________
Sherry found herself in the throes of a dance she didn't understand. It was a slow dance, her body swaying rhythmlessly, almost clumsily in a stranger's arms. The guy, a young man with a keen interest in her, had a grip on her that seemed too firm, too persistent. But for reasons unknown, she didn't pull away.
She was usually more composed, her moves fluid and natural. Tonight, though, something was off. Each step she took felt like a struggle, her legs buckling under her as if they had forgotten how to dance. Her signature grace was replaced with an awkwardness that puzzled her. It was as if her body was operating independently, responding to cues that she wasn't consciously giving.
It wasn't just her dance skills that were off, it was her entire perception. She felt detached from her actions, like a spectator in her own body. "What is happening to me?" she thought, as she once again found herself gently brushing down the front of her dress, between her legs, as if something was missing there.
Her eyes flitted around the room, desperately seeking a familiar face. Ashley was nowhere to be seen. A twinge of worry gnawed at her. She considered breaking away from the dance to find her, but her body continued to sway to the rhythm of the song. For the moment, she was trapped in the dance, locked in the arms of a stranger, her concern for Ashley gnawing at the back of her mind.
____________________________
Ashley was trying to keep her calm. Her wrists were bound together with a harsh, biting cord, her body shoved onto a chair in a dim, musty room. The man, who she now knew as Tom, was pacing restlessly in front of her.
Tom had a gruff exterior, his features hardened by what Ashley could only assume were years spent in illicit activities. He was irritated, glancing at the door every few seconds, his grumbles growing louder as time passed.
"Where the hell is she?" Tom growled under his breath, his gaze darting towards the old, rusty clock hanging off-kilter on the wall. The room, which seemed to be some sort of storage area, echoed with the loud ticking of the clock, punctuating the heavy silence that lay between them.
Ashley felt a wave of dread wash over her. She didn't know who they were waiting for, but she was certain that her appearance wouldn't bode well for her. Her mind raced, thoughts whirling in a tornado of fear and anxiety.
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open, revealing the silhouette of a woman. Barbara. Ashley knew her only casually from their classes, but she had always had a cold, distant demeanor. Ashley watched her with wide, fearful eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. Barbara stalked into the room, her eyes glinting dangerously. Tom straightened, a surprised grunt escaping his lips.
"Finally," he growled. "What took you so--"
His sentence was cut off as Barbara lunged at him. It happened so fast that Ashley barely had time to blink. One moment, Tom was standing, the next, he was sprawled on the floor with Barbara on top of him. She moved with a grace and precision that belied her size. Her fists rained down on Tom, and Ashley could hear the dull thud of each punch landing.
Tom fought back, his surprise turning into a snarl of anger. But Barbara – or was it Barbara? - was relentless. It was as if she was a completely different person, her eyes filled with a cold fury that Ashley had never seen before.
There was a crack, a yelp of pain from Tom, and then silence. Barbara rose, leaving Tom lying motionless on the floor. She turned towards Ashley, and for a moment, Ashley's heart seized in terror.
But then, Barbara – no, this couldn’t be Barbara - merely crossed the room to where Ashley sat, her eyes filled with an intensity that made her shiver. Her hands, surprisingly gentle, began to work at the cords binding Ashley. As she was freed, Ashley felt a rush of relief, her mind a whirl of questions.
Who was this woman really? And why had she come to her rescue?
_________________
It was strange. Jacob had been in female bodies before but somehow, controlling Barbara was different. There was a raw, physical power in her, a vitality that felt foreign and exhilarating. He flexed her hands, still tingling from the impact against Tom's face. He had managed to put the brute down, but not without some struggle. Women weren't supposed to be as strong as men, or so Jacob thought, but Barbara was an exception.
At the same time, he was irked. Controlling Barbara’s body had revealed a new set of challenges. Her strength wasn’t the same as his own, particularly his arms. It had taken quite a few punches to deal with Tom, and his knuckles were painful and swelling. As he kneeled to untie Ashley, he felt a pulse of fatigue.
"Who are you?" Ashley stuttered as the ropes loosened.
Jacob paused, a grimace crossing Barbara's face. "It's me, Ashley," he said, trying to infuse Barbara's voice with as much of his own character as possible. "Jacob. I’m using the stealth control tech."
He saw the confusion flicker across Ashley’s face before comprehension dawned on her. Her eyes widened in shock. "Jacob? Really?”
"We’ll have time for questions later," Jacob interrupted, finishing untying her. "Right now, we need to get you out of here."
As he stood up, he once again took a moment to appreciate the body he was controlling. Powerful, agile and, he had to admit, seductive. Barbara was a woman to be reckoned with. If he had his way, he wouldn't mind using this body a bit more.
Jacob felt Ashley stiffen as they approached his own limp body lying unnoticed in the corridor. He hated seeing himself like this - vulnerable and defenseless. It was a risk of the stealth control tech, but a necessary one.
“Jacob?” Ashley’s voice quivered, “Is that… your body?”
“Yeah, it is,” Jacob replied with a curt nod, feeling a grim satisfaction at the shock on Ashley’s face. He let go of her arm and knelt beside his own body. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a spare receiver, a near-invisible piece of technology that was the size of a coin.
"Here, turn around," Jacob instructed, holding the receiver up.
“What are you doing?” Ashley asked, a note of panic edging into her voice as she moved away.
Jacob rose to his feet, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you saw what happened tonight, right? Clearly, you need more protection. This," he said, holding the receiver up, "this will let me keep a closer eye on you."
Ashley looked from the receiver to Jacob’s unconscious body and then back to Barbara, a dawning realization in her eyes. “You want to control me too?”
“Only if necessary,” Jacob replied, his voice firm. “Besides, I did just save your life.”
Ashley hesitated for a moment longer, her gaze darting between Barbara and Jacob’s limp body. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she turned around. As Jacob attached the receiver onto the back of her neck, he could feel her shudder under his touch.
“Don’t worry, Ashley,” Jacob reassured her, “You’re in safe hands.” A grin spread across Barbara’s face as he said it.
“Um… okay.” said Ashley. “I’m going to head back up to my room now. Tell Sherry where I went.”
With that, she scampered away. Was it safe to let her run off by herself like that? Jacob thought. How many times could somebody get kidnapped in one night anyway?
Some part of him said probably more than once, but fuck it. He pushed through the door back into the club.
With Ashley finally off to safety, Jacob turned his attention back to the dance floor. He scanned the throng of gyrating bodies and found Gordon, still looking completely out of sorts in Sherry's body. His movements were clunky and unsure, like a fawn taking its first steps. A smirk played on Jacob's lips as he moved towards him.
As he approached, he saw a group of young men watching Gordon with a mix of amusement and lustful curiosity. "Excuse me, gents," Jacob said in Barbara's sultry voice, sliding between them with an ease that belied his masculine mind.
He reached Gordon and took his hands, leading him onto the dance floor. He could feel Gordon stiffen in surprise but made no attempt to pull away.
"Sherry," Jacob said, grinning mischievously, "you dance like you have two left feet. Let me show you how it's done."
Gordon, looking surprised, stuttered a reply. "Barbara? What are you—"
Jacob silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shh. Dance with me, Sherry."
With that, Jacob led the dance. As Barbara, he moved fluidly, sensually, leading Sherry around the dance floor in a dance that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Jacob revelled in the moment, both in the control he held over the situation and in the pleasure of making Gordon squirm.
As the music swelled, Jacob spun Sherry out and then pulled her back in. Sherry's surprised yelp was swallowed by the cheers of the crowd. Jacob could barely contain his laughter as Gordon, wide-eyed and flushed, stared at him.
The song ended, and Jacob released Gordon, flashing him a smug smile. "That," he said, pointing a finger at Gordon, "is how you dance."
Jacob lowered Barbara’s already sultry voice. “Want to see how you do… something else?”
Sherry’s body stared up at him, eyes wide, and reached a hesitant hand around the side of Barbara’s neck. Jacob felt the fingers explore, settling on the receiver still attached just above the spine.
A look of understanding passed over Sherry’s face, and then she gave a small, subtle nod. Jacob leaned in for a kiss. The frat boys around them cheered.
_______________
Five drinks later, the two agents turned college girls were in each other's arms, sloppily alternating between making out and examining their new bodies.
“I think Sherry is a- a lightweight” giggled Gordon, blushing at the situation. “Here I am, a twenty one year old girl, or a fifty six year old man, or a jesus…”
“I don’t think you’re Jesus,” smirked Jacob. He used Barbara’s hand to fondle one of Sherry’s breasts. “He wasn’t nearly this stacked.”
“Should we… should we…” Gordon started.
“Find somewhere more private? Sure.” Jacob forced himself to his feet, once again admiring the long, feminine legs that stretched out before him.
“I was going to say dis- disengage” grumbled Gordon. “But I think I like your idea better.”
He nearly rolled one of Sherry’s ankles as he stumbled to his feet. He leaned on Barbara’s body as the two of them snuck away from the emptying bar and up to a room.
“You know the best thing about being a girl?” said Gordon drunkenly. “Everybody wants to have sex with you. Tom wanted to have sex with me. Chris wanted to have sex with me. Even hot college girls like Barbara want to have sex with me.”
He fell back onto the bed, rubbing his legs together.
“Evvveeerybody wants to have sex with me. I’m a sex god.”
“I’m not a college girl.” said Jacob, smirking as he took off his dress.
“Assassin, whatever.”
Jacob laughed. He reached underneath Sherry’s dress and pulled down her silk panties.
“And you know the worst part about being a girl? Evvverrrybody wants to have sex with me. What if I don’t want to have sex with them?”
Jacob pawed at one of Sherry's legs, nibbling at her thigh. Gordon mewed at him.
“I don’t get to turn it off. They always want to have sexxxx, even if I don’t want to. Every guy was staaaaaring at me. Half the girls were staring at me.”
Jacob tore off his own underwear and frowned down at his flat crotch. Oh yeah.
“Being a girl suuuuuuccccks. Everybody always wants to have seeeexxx with me.”
“Being a girl sucks alright”, thought Jacob as he drunkenly felt around between his legs. “How the fuck am I meant to have sex without a dick?”
He grunted and stared down at the hot, horny woman that was lying on her back in front of him, so wet it was running onto the sheets. He was so damn turned on. He would have had a throbbing erection if he was in his own body.
He looked down at himself. Past the large, hanging breasts, and to the bare vagina nestled between his thighs. He spread the labia uselessly, growly with frustration as he squinted, trying to see anything but the tiny clit that was pulsing there. It was so damn small. What the fuck was he meant to do with that?
“I’ll be right back,” Jacob growled. Gordon moaned in disappointment and began feeling himself up.
“You’re meant to rub it.” said Gordon, absentmindedly, as he began to use Sherry’s hands on her own body.
Jacob barged out of the door.
________________________________
Sherry was having a hell of a night. First she found she couldn’t dance for shit, next she spent like an hour being felt up by the same uncharming douchebag, and then she got drunk and made out with one of Ashley’s random college friends – Barbara? What was her name?
She stared down at herself, spreadeagled on the bed, horny as she had ever been. Now Barbara had disappeared, god knows where, and she could barely get herself off.
“Ugh!” she moaned in frustration. “This is way harder than it looks!”
She cupped her boob in one hand and tried to stick out her tongue to lick it, but couldn’t reach. Her other hand grabbed at her clit, tugging it up and down like a tiny little dick. Why wasn’t she acting normal? It usually took her two minutes to get off and go to sleep!
“Fuck this!” she huffed and collapsed back onto the bed. She raised her bare legs into the air and stared at them. One leg, two legs, kicking in the air.
She admired her toes as she flexed them about, rubbing one leg up and down the other. She had never really looked at herself like this before, but she had to admit, she had nice legs. She blew a kissy face at them.
“Hellloooo toes,” she chortled.
She moaned again in frustration. She didn’t want to talk to her toes. She wanted to get off! She’d been alternating between horny and frustrated all night – not to mention seemingly fascinated with her own body. What was that all about?
The door burst open.
“Still awake?” came a man’s voice. “It took me a while to sort out Barbara’s body, hand her over to the cops, make sure Ashley was safe, etcetera, etcetera.”
Sherry just stared at him. What the fuck was Jacob doing in her room?
“Nice view, boss.” he said, staring right up at her. Her legs were still raised in the air, her bare nether region exposed. She thought she should maybe cover up, but decided, why not let the perv get a view? Closest someone like him would ever get to her!
Jacob tore his pants off. “Glad you could save it for me.”
“Never tell anybody about this.” Sherry found herself hissing.
“You got it, boss.”
She looked down to see Jacob’s monster member growing before her eyes. She threw her head back and moaned. Maybe she could have sex with him after all? What’s the worst that could happen? Not like she’d been able to do much without him…
“Hurry up! You better be able to get me off in this damn horny body!”
A thick, meaty hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her along the bed. Then she felt a peculiar sensation of something big touching a hole that she had never felt before…
Of course she had felt that before, what was she thinking?
An alien sensation burst through her in little waves as Jacob’s dick entered her. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the sensation that bore through every nerve in her body.
“It feels so good!” she screamed, “and-what-the-fuck-it-feels-so-weird!”
Jacob began thrusting into her. He grabbed her arms and held them down on either side of her. All she could do was gasp as the sensations overwhelmed her body. In out in out in out.
Jacob grunted. “You like that old man? You like that Sherry?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Fuck both of you! I’m the fucking king! What did either of you do tonight for the mission? What have you ever done for me!”
“No- nothing!”
“You like being made a little bitch, don’t you Gordon? Don’t you Sherry!”
Gordon? What the fuck was he talking about? But Sherry didn’t care, she let out a scream.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me Jacob!”
“Cum like you haven’t had sex in a decade, old man!”
“Twenty five years! This is.. My first time… in twenty five years!”
Sherry was talking nonsense, but who cared? Her eyes rolled back in her head. She saw white. Every muscle in her body spasmed, every nerve cried out, she felt a wave slam into her mind, her fists clenched, her toes kicked, her whole body seized up, Jacob’s dick pulsating inside her, spurting deep into her body!
“OH GOOOOODDDDDD”
She collapsed back onto her bed. Jacob pulled out, and they quickly fell asleep.
______________________________
The next morning, Jacob was having a coffee outside the control room when Gordon, his old body looking tired and sore, grumbled his way out of the sleeping quarters.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word.”
Jacob smirked, and that was that.
1
8.7K
7
5
Bailey and Ayden, a college-aged couple, discover that Ayden has a power in the middle of a post-coitus massage. In short, Ayden can enter someone through an orifice and "wear" them, essentially possessing them, turning them into a sort of skinsuit as he does. Being an anal aficionado, Ayden prefers the obvious entry point. What follows is Ayden using his powers on others, such as their petite neighbor, the obnoxious TA that's ruining Bailey's GPA, and eventually culminating in Bailey's professor. Of course, the couple has plenty of sex along the way.
Discovery
"I-I mean, SERIOUSLY?! LOOK!" Bailey shouted, pointing at her phone screen. "Who LOSES credit for being early to class?!"
"...Wow." Ayden sighed, caressing Bailey's thigh as he pretended to stare at his girlfriend's phone. "Not to be that guy, but... why not just show up like, on time instead?"
"You REALLY think Kim's not gonna find something else to find wrong?! God, you know that test last week? Gave me a FORTY because 'blank ink is in poor taste' AFTER last time! Can't use a pencil, can't use a pen, lemme guess, I gotta prick my fucking finger and write with blood?!" Bailey shouted, her face red from her frustration. "I cannot WAIT to be done with this shit!"
"...Want me to talk to your professor or... something?" Ayden asked, gulping as Bailey snapped her head towards him.
"Babe, I..." Bailey started, her tone harsh. Upon seeing her boyfriend's face, however, she paused, took a deep breath, and tried to relax. Slightly. "Look, I just..." Bailey sighed, averting her eyes. "Kim'll start rumors the second you close the door behind you. Doesn't matter if it's her, the professor... the janitor, honestly."
"And?"
"Ayden. You really want a rumor to start about you... doing something to some poor, defenseless, helpless woman behind closed doors?" Bailey sighed, rolling her eyes as Ayden's expression didn't change in the slightest. "She'll say you raped her. Or both of them, knowing her."
"Oh." Ayden mumbled, biting his upper lip. "Yeah, that's... not great."
"No shit." Bailey sighed, flopping her head back on the pillow. Covering her gray eyes with her forearm, she finally noticed her boyfriend's hand. "Babe, what are you doing?"
"...Rubbing your thigh."
"Not in the mood."
"Maybe Kim-" Ayden started, immediately stopping when Bailey's glare peeked out from beneath her forearm. "Joking. Joking. Babe, I'm joking." Ayden insisted, a single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "C'mon, it's been a few days..."
"..."
"Pleeeeease? Babe, I-"
"I JUST got off my period." Bailey grumbled, sighing as Ayden started running his lips up her arm, showering it in short, little kisses. "Fine. I... I guess I did kinda appreciate those massages..."
"And you said Massage 1001 was a stupid class!" Ayden snickered, snaking his hand between Bailey's soft thighs. "Prof said they helped with cramps and... WHAT did you say after the first 'demonstration' on you?"
"...They did." Bailey admitted, blindly reaching over to her nightstand with one arm as Ayden's lips ran up her other. As Ayden's fingers brushed against her entrance, Bailey flinched slightly, shooting Ayden a look as she grasped the golden square sitting atop the nightstand. As she brought it over, Bailey glanced over and double-checked the nightstand, sighing as she did. "Last one."
"Last... oh. I'll buy more tomorrow." Ayden muttered, his dick twitching as Bailey expertly tore open the golden wrapper with her teeth. The twitching intensified as Bailey immediately popped the latex treasure into her mouth. "Babe, I LOVE when-"
"Mmmng mn!" Bailey mumbled, sliding down the bed. Rolling atop Ayden, Bailey couldn't stop the cloud of arousal from making her head spin, the scent of her man's rod activating her neurons. As she brought her head down, latex in mouth, Ayden couldn't stop himself from running his tongue over Bailey's opening, his eyes locked on to her twitching exit nearby. Bailey had to breathe through her nose, resisting every urge to moan, as her tongue coiled around the ribbed latex she was forcing around Ayden's shaft. Finally, after getting it "good enough", Bailey raised her head, just as Ayden's tongue darted, deeply licking the wrong hole. Entirely on purpose, of course. "Ah... AYDEN!" Bailey moaned, her body jittery.
"You KNOW I can't help myself around this!" Ayden laughed, molding Bailey's pale cheeks with glee, making sure to "accidentally" slip a finger or two in her recently licked exit. Bailey, despite the rough moans she was unconsciously emitting, puffed up her cheeks and pulled her lower half away, earning a whine from Ayden. Soon enough though, Bailey was lowering herself on Ayden's erect member, her satisfied face looking down at Ayden.
"Mmm... Ayden..." Bailey murmured, her pussy throbbing as it became the sheath for Ayden's manly blade. A shiver ran up her body, forcing her hands to ever so slightly grip the chest they rested on. Her face became flush as she started, unconsciously, bobbing her hips up and down, Ayden's firm grip on her glorious ass assisting her movements. Sweat started forming on her face, her eyes closing shut and fluttering. As she started getting comfortable in her groove, however, Ayden switched things up, roughly fingering Bailey's anus as he started furiously thrusting upwards. "HHNNG?!" Bailey grunted, her body tensing up as her teeth dug into her bottom lip.
As much as Ayden wanted to make a snarky comment, he couldn't muster more than a moan, his back arching as he slammed into his limit. His eyes rolling back into his head, Ayden's dick strained against its latex container, filling it with a thick, roapy load. Bailey, at her own limit, fell onto Ayden's chest, panting and murmuring anything but words as Ayden's member twitched inside her.
"Babe..." Ayden finally managed to pant, spurred on by a kiss on the neck. "That was amazing..."
"Mmm..." Bailey murmured, her heart racing as she basked in the skinship she was experiencing.
"...That was the last condom, right?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Any chance-"
"No."
"Please?"
"No, Ayden."
"I'll give you a massage."
"...Fine. Just... gimme a sec." Bailey sighed, shuddering as she slid her hips up and to the side. As Ayden started rubbing her ass, Bailey let out another sigh, kissing his neck and half-heartedly sucking. "Massage first." Bailey demanded, earning a quiet grunt from Ayden. "No oil this time."
"Alright. Only 'cause I love you." Ayden sighed, his hands rising to the back of Bailey's head and slowing rubbing it. Ayden continued, for more than a few minutes, enjoying Bailey's proximity as well. Eventually though, after a long kiss, Bailey rested her head on her arms, an eager grin on her face as Ayden sat on the back of her knees, rubbing his hands together, eager to get the massage over with and get to the main event.
"OooooOoooOOOOO..." Bailey moaned, her hips rising from the bed as Ayden firmly pressed his hands against her shoulders. "R-Right THEEErrrrrre..."
"Jeez, Kim's making you stress that much?" Ayden sighed, firmly rubbing and forcing his knuckles down, his still-erect cock twitching whenever Bailey would moan or squeak cutely. As he reached the base of Bailey's spine, however, Ayden had to blink. Repeatedly. "...The fuck?" Ayden whispered, gulping as his fingers seemed to... sink into Bailey. Instead of the expected resistance, being skin and all, it... it felt like it was closer to pudding. But whenever Ayden would sharply pull his hand back, the little "divots" on Bailey's body would snap back into place, as if nothing had happened.
"Ayden?" Bailey asked, her face flush.
"Y-Yeah?" Ayden stammered, unsure if he was hallucinations.
"Don't stop, it... it feels fucking incredible. Whatever you're doing differently, don't... don't stop." Bailey mumbled, biting down on her forearm to suppress a moan as Ayden touched her lower back once more.
"...G-Good. It's... it's a new tech." Ayden lied, continuing the massage despite the oddity. However much he tried, however, he could truly get his mind off it. Bailey's back, shoulders, arms, legs, thighs, even the bottom of her foot, they all... had the oddity. And Bailey, if her moans and occasional sashaying of her hips, begging for attention in her throbbing womanhood, were any indication, this massage was magical in more than one way. "Babe, there's... there's a finale to this." Ayden mumbled, his eyes wide as he stretched and pulled on Bailey's ass, watching it stretch and snap into place as if it was made of bungee cord.
"Huh? Oh, okay..." Bailey murmured, her mind hazy from the supernatural pleasure Ayden was showering her with.
Gulping, Ayden pushed a finger into Bailey's anus. Immediately, he realized that this too was affected. Tight. Hot. That's how it should've been. But it wasn't. There was a shocking lack of resistance instead. And... something akin to suction? Not physically, but... mentally? Spiritually? Ayden wasn't sure how to label it, but listened regardless. A second finger. A third. An entire hand. Bailey displayed no new response, no indication of awareness other than some loud panting. Up the elbow. Ayden was appalled. Not only for Bailey's non-response, but... her biology. Ayden was, by no means, a biology expert. But... there was nothing. Something that was confirmed when Ayden's shoulder stretched inside. Instead of the organs or something Ayden expected, there was nothing. Curiosity overtaking him, Ayden thrust his other hand in as well, spreading Bailey's rear exit open as wide as he could, watching the odd, elastic properties he hoped for.
Bailey didn't react.
Ayden sincerely thought about stopping. Or making a joke about shining a light in, going spelunking or something along those lines. But... that odd pulling sensation overtook him, crushing any resistance he had prior. He dove in, earning a series of confused grunts and moans as his shoulders slipped inside. Ayden was in complete darkness, surging forward relentlessly, the thought that he'd somehow taken LSD an ever-present one. As his last toe slipped inside, Ayden felt an odd urge. An urge he immediately listened to.
Outside, Bailey was undergoing her own confusion. She felt ecstatic, her entire body tingling from a combination of orgasm and... something else she couldn't quite place. Stranger than that, however, was the sounds her stomach was making. Churning, groaning, even quiet squeaks. Yet... Bailey didn't feel like questioning it, some odd urge compelling her to relax. To make her not care as a lump surged down her arm, flexing and stretching the flesh around it. To not question it as three other lumps did the same to her other arm, her two legs. To do nothing but smile as a bulge, more defined and larger than the rest, writhed up her neck, making her cough and sputter. To not question where Ayden went as her mind went dark.
Ayden blinked several times, blinded by the sudden light. He smacked his lips together, scrunching his face up at the... odd sensations caressing his body. Ayden was at a loss for words, frankly. One moment he was forcing himself into some sort of suit, the next he's... laying in bed, face-down? Then, it hit him. Ayden shot up, his eyes wide. He reached up to the blonde strands of hair in front of his eyes. He stared at his hands, mouth agape at their foreign, yet intimately familiar form. Unlocking Bailey's phone, with her fingerprint, sent his head spinning. The result when he turned the camera on earned a scream. A scream that was high pitched, in a voice that wasn't his own...
Exploration and Explanation
"I..." Ayden murmured, prodding the face staring back at him in the mirror, the gray he expected replaced by a familiar blue that would normally greet him. He was completely, utterly lost for words. To say that Bailey's... odd body during the massage still weighed heavily on his mind would be an understatement. What followed, him entering her ass and... suddenly being her was enough for Ayden's mind to race. To jump at every possible, conceivable or not, explanation. LSD in the water supply. A dream. Even the chance that he'd, somehow, died and was reincarnated inside Bailey. Anything, something had to be an answer.
"This... it can't be real." Ayden whispered, shaking his head as he left the bathroom. Alas, it didn't matter how hard he pinched himself, how fast the flurry of self-inflicted slaps on his face were, nor how much he tried to deny it. He was, most definitely, Bailey. And somehow, despite how frequent Ayden mumbled to the contrary, it was real.
"I... I'm Bailey. I..." Ayden mumbled, the gears of his mind turning. Standing at the foot of the bed, Ayden finally looked down. "...It's fine, right?" Ayden asked himself, bringing his hands to his chest and gently rubbing them. A quiet moan, one that made Ayden look around, confirming to himself that he'd actually made it, snuck out of his mouth as he brushed against his nipple. "Holy... are all women like this, or is Bailey..." Ayden mumbled, a certain object catching his eye. "Fuck. Am I... actually considering this?"
Ayden, slightly sick to his stomach, grasped the recently used condom with the tips of his pointer finger and thumb. The fluid inside, still warm to the touch, made him doubt himself once more. Yet... his mouth couldn't stop watering. They'd had the conversation tens of times. Bailey always swallowed, always insisted that it was delicious. Always teasing, playfully, that Ayden's claims that he'd "fucking never" tried it himself was a complete lie. Which... it was, of course.
Clenching his eyes shut, Ayden dipped his tongue in. The second his tastebuds submerged, his eyes shot open, a hand shooting up to his mouth. Despite salivating, Ayden walked over and threw the condom into the garbage can. He'd never admit it, for obvious reasons, but... Bailey, her tastebuds at least, absolutely adored it. Adored it enough that Ayden's hands were trembling, fighting to cling to his self-control as a warm, tingly sensation spread through his body.
Ayden didn't even realize what he was doing until his thumb graced his clit. Immediately, Ayden yelped, glancing down at his hand, his fingers coated in a thin layer of Bailey's juices. Ayden, his breath short and sharp, couldn't not bring said fingers to his lips, moaning and murmuring from the sweet, acrid taste. Unable to help himself, Ayden fell to the bed, savoring Bailey's taste with one hand as his other dove down below. The mattress shook and squeaked as Ayden's hips moved on their own, humping the fingers penetrating him. Moans became louder, the words Ayden attempted to say became less and less clear. Thoughts became less clear, more frenzied, more depraved in nature. Toes curled, teeth biting the sheets as Ayden let out a squeal, just as a thought popped into his head.
Ayden couldn't articulate his thoughts, simply panting and quietly groaning as he shut his eyes. He had to wonder why he didn't think of it sooner, simply doing the opposite of what he'd done in the first place. With a bit of focus, he felt his senses snap away, suddenly... dark again. Bailey's voice, sighing and whimpering, was omnipresent, surrounding him from every angle. Panicking, Ayden pulled his arms and legs out of the invisible "suit", every instinct telling him it was a bad idea. A mistake. Ayden simply buried them, swimming through the abyss until he hit a wall. A wall with a bit of light filtering through it. Frantically, Ayden raced for it, forcing himself as Bailey's sounds, still present, became louder, more excited, more exhilarated.
Ayden gasped, blinking repeatedly as his head emerged, Bailey's cheeks spread apart to let him through. His heart raced, pounding louder and louder, as he forced himself out more and more, only slowing down when his hips got stuck. He tried going slowly, Bailey's shrill moans raising more than a little concern. But... Ayden quickly became impatient. Whispering "like a bandage" to himself, he placed both hands on the mattress and, with every ounce of his strength, pushed himself out with a "PLOP" that reverberated through the bedroom.
Ayden quickly shot up, making sure Bailey was seemingly fine, yet unconscious, her ass raised up in the air. Only then did he look down at himself, flexing his fingers and toes. He was... oddly clean. It was a relief, of course, but raised further questions in Ayden's mind. Shouldn't he be... in need of a shower? Especially if, somehow, he forced his entire body inside Bailey's asshole and then back out again? That "concern" could wait, however.
"What am I doing?!" Ayden shouted, shaking his head. "I'm not the one who..." He trailed off, gently shaking Bailey. "Babe? Babe? BABE?!"
"...Nnnng." Bailey grunted, a frown forming on her sleeping face.
"Thank... NO, WE GOTTA TALK!" Ayden shouted, shaking Bailey much more firmly. Yet, Bailey did little more than groan and grunt, her eyelids practically stapled shut. "Fine. Just... sorry. FIRE! FIRE! BAILEY-" Ayden screamed, shaking Bailey with all his might.
"W-What?!" Bailey shouted, raising her head. Her eyes wide, she managed to get up and to the door before Ayden grasped her wrist and stopped her. "AYDEN?! YOU SAID-"
"Looklooklook, I know I lied, I know I... practically gave you a heart attack. But..." Ayden paused, gulping as Bailey caught her breath. "You wouldn't wake up and... what happened is absolutely fucking crazy."
"...What are you talking about? I..." Bailey trailed off, scrunching up her face. "...I passed out in the middle of the massage. And... there's no fire? Thank God."
"You don't... Bailey, I... your ass?"
"Did you... while I slept?" Bailey asked, blushing as she grasped her ass. "Babe, that's... don't do that..."
"What? No, I... I like, crawled inside you!" Ayden shouted, earning an understandably confused, skeptical look from Bailey. "I was like, in your body and I fingered myself and-"
"Stop. Repeat that. Slowly." Bailey sighed, raising her hand to her forehead. Yet, as she did, she noticed something. Skeptically, she sniffed her fingers, her eyes widening from the familiar scent. Not to mention, of course, the wetness between her legs, reaching her thighs. A recent wetness, spread further out than the wetness from the sex she remembered. "Ayden, you're... serious?"
"One hundred... hold on." Ayden mumbled, staring down at the wrist he'd latched onto. Bailey, confused, followed his gaze, gasping at the sight of her wrist caving in. All without any sense of pain. "S-See?"
"Ayden... this... is this you, or is this me?" Bailey whispered, gulping as she tried to pull away from Ayden's grasp, failing as, like bubblegum, her arm simply stretched out instead. A scream started to form in the back of her throat, dying back down as Ayden released her, her skin snapping back into place the second he did.
"I... I have no fucking idea." Ayden admitted, pinching himself in a pointless attempt to wake up from the non-existent dream.
"...I have a test subject in mind to find out." Bailey muttered, her lips quivering into a grin as she walked over to her phone and quickly typed up a text to a certain someone...
Using A Test Subject
"I thought you were gonna suggest Kim!" Ayden hissed, crossing his arms as Bailey leaned on the doorbell. "Babe, seriously. Why..." Ayden asked yet again, quieting down as the door creaked open. He slowly exchanged a look with Bailey, pouting as his girlfriend all but dragged him inside. Rubbing the back of his neck, Ayden cleared his throat. "...Harper."
"...Ayden." Harper grunted, crossing her arms as she glared at Ayden. "Bailey said you had something for me?"
"...Yeah." Ayden grunted, rolling his eyes.
"And?" Bailey hissed, elbowing Ayden in the chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send the message, loud and clear.
"...Look, my bad for the... party thing." Ayden sighed, scratching his chin as he silently wished he really could forget that night. "Bailey keeps saying I'm... really good at massages, so..."
"He really is. And I'll be here, making sure he doesn't... you know Ayden." Bailey explained, handing Harper a few odd bits of mail. "Haven't opened anything, obviously. They uh... still haven't figured out the difference between '13' and '31', huh?" Bailey attempted to joke, forcing out a laugh.
"Whatever." Harper sighed, signaling to the pair to close the door. "How naked do I have to be for this... apology massage?"
"Uh... like... bra and shorts?" Bailey answered, unsure until Ayden shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, I'd-"
"Let's get it over with." Harper sighed, tossing off her crop top nonchalantly, her small breasts shielded by a rather lacy white bra. Without another word, her jean shorts dropped as well, a matching white, lacy pair of panties on display. "Lay on my stomach, right?" Harper asked, flopping down on the couch nearby, her flat ass doing almost nothing for Ayden.
"Babe, I seriously don't wanna be in her!" Ayden hissed quietly. "If we do this with Kim, I can fix your grade, ruin her reputation, shit like that! Harper's-" Ayden protested, stopped by Bailey's finger up to his lips.
"Worst case, you give her a massage. Best case, we know it's you, not me. Now do it." Bailey insisted quietly, replacing her finger with her own lips for a quick peck.
Ayden, knowing it was pointless to argue, rolled his eyes and stumbled over to the couch. Exchanging a quick look with Bailey, he slowly sat down on the back of Harper's knees, earning a grunt. However... the groin-kick he expected never arrived. Somewhat relieved, Ayden brought the palms of his hands down on the back of Harper's neck. Gently at first, using his "worthless credit's" techniques on Harper. A mixture of relief and concern washed over him at first. Until he reached the shoulders.
"Holy... you're not bAAd at this..." Harper moaned, biting her lip to suppress a moan as the rhythmic rubbing and pushing started to feel... oddly amazing. "Bit lower..." She ordered, shuddering as Ayden's hands worked their magic at the center of her back. Closing her eyes, Harper's hips started to rock, the soft fabric of her panties containing a sudden spike in heat.
"It's you." Bailey whispered, eyes wide as Ayden seemed to pull and stretch at Harper's skin, all without the redhead seemingly noticing. "Hey, Harper?!"
"Hm?"
"Enjoying it?"
"Mmmhmm." Harper murmured, burying her head in the couch cushion as a climax started to build. She wanted to force Ayden off, to start screaming questions. To demand to know if this was some elaborate plan of his to see her orgasm. Yet... there was a gnawing sensation in the back of her head, urging her to let it continue.
"Do it. The way you did me." Bailey hissed, pulling Harper's panties to the side, an action Harper didn't seem to question, let alone mind. "Gotta make sure. All of it."
"F-Fine." Ayden hissed, sliding his hands down to Harper's boyish ass. It, in his mind, wasn't even worth rubbing. Instead, with a desire to get it over with, Ayden buried both hands inside. The entire world seemed to slow down, falling deathly silent for a moment. Yet... Harper didn't protest. She simply started humping the couch, her eyes crossed as drool leaked forth from her curved lips.
"Was... I like this?" Bailey asked quietly. Ayden answered with a nod as he plunged deeper with ease, only stopping at his shoulders to take a deep breath. Did he need to? He was unsure, but wanted to play it safe. With one last look at Bailey, with his own eyes at least, Ayden slammed his head inside. Bailey could only watch, completely captivated as Ayden effortlessly slid inside, even giggling to herself as the final toe made a "PLOP" sound upon disappearing inside. Harper, letting out a gravely moan, suddenly shook and trembled, inadvertently causing Bailey to jump as Ayden's outfit suddenly shot out of his entrance point, wrinkled but otherwise no worse for wear.
Bailey, intrigued more than ever, found herself following an odd, baseball-sized lump suddenly appear at the base of Harper's spine. It seemed to roam this way and that before arriving at the nape of her neck, pausing for a moment before four, smaller lumps shot out, racing down Harper's arms and legs. Harper's feet and hands flexed a few times, just as she let out a loud, deep moan, the "main" lump shooting upwards into her neck.
Ayden blinked a few times, shuddering as he did. He felt... amazing, really. His... new organ was throbbing, begging for attention. Yet, he ignored it, forcing himself to sit up, meeting a gleeful Bailey as he did. As he opened his mouth, Bailey suddenly grabbed his chin, gasping as she looked into his eyes.
"Whoa... Ayden, that's you, isn't it?" Bailey whispered, captivated by her boyfriend's eye color steadily "polluting" Harper's bright green with his blue color. "Your eyes, they're..."
"Wheb..." Ayden started, waiting for Bailey to release his chin before trying again. "When I was in you, your eyes were blue. Is that..."
"Yeah. It's like... someone's putting little pipettes of blue dye in." Bailey explained, nodding as Ayden stood up on shaky legs. Instinctively, she caught him, her heart racing as he looked up at her. "A-At boob level, huh?" Bailey attempted to joke, blushing as Ayden did.
"Can I leave her body now? I don't like being this short or..." Ayden began, trailing off as he heard the drumming of Bailey's beating heart. Like that "pulling" sensation from earlier, Ayden felt something deep inside himself. He couldn't explain it, but he needed to listen to it.
Bailey let out a disappointed sigh as Ayden pushed himself off of her. Almost immediately, however, disappointment turned to intrigue as he yanked off the panties he was now wearing. Intrigue turned to... startled arousal, if anything, as Ayden started to rub and massage his new slit, turning it into that strange, elastic form. Quickly, the startled arousal became excited arousal as Ayden forced two fingers and a thumb inside himself, letting out a loud, girly moan as he pulled. And pulled. Until finally, with a satisfied groan, the two testicles dropped, resting at the base of a throbbing cock. Yet, Ayden didn't stop, bringing his hand to his throat and rubbing it furiously, clearing his throat all the while.
"La la... testing... THERE we go!" Ayden shouted, his own voice emerging from Harper's mouth. "It seems-"
"You can make parts of your body appear on whoever you're in." Bailey finished, oddly aroused by the whole situation. "You think... you can enter someone inside someone else? Or..."
"Babe?" Ayden asked, blushing as he wrapped his arms around Bailey's waist, burying his face in her bust. Groaning, he started thrusting, the jean fabric covering Bailey's thighs feeling far better than it should have...
Enjoying The Test Subject
"A-Ayden! What's up with you?! Stop do-" Bailey managed to protest, gasping as something hot spurted onto the thighs of her jeans. She didn't have to look down to confirm what it was, the loud, familiar moan from between her chest doing the job well enough. "...My jeans, Ayden..."
"You're right... take them off." Ayden sighed, his cock still throbbing, standing at attention on his stolen body. "It feels AMAZING, Bailey, you don't even know..."
"...My jeans?"
"Mmmm... no." Ayden moaned, his hips thrusting once again. "Babe, just..." He paused, shuddering as he, reluctantly took a step back from Bailey. Gesturing to his stolen groin, he rocked his hips, his cock rubbing against his stolen snatch as he did. "Fuuuuuck, this..."
"You feel both?" Bailey asked, unable to hide a grin as Ayden weakly nodded. "Ayden... you know..." Bailey chuckled, covering her mouth as a thought popped into her head. "R-Really taking 'go fuck yourself' to a whole new level, eh?" She asked, suppressing a giggle as Ayden glared at her with Harper's cute face. "C'mon, that's funny! Don't-" Bailey began, bursting out into all out laughter as Ayden struggled to reach behind him and unclasp Harper's arguably unnecessary bra.
"Quit it! How do..." Ayden grumbled, sighing as Bailey approached, spun him around, and effortlessly took care of it. "Why can't she just get those ones that buckle in the front like yours?!" Ayden shouted. "SERIOUSLY, like, it's easier for me, easier for AHN?!" Ayden moaned suddenly, blushing as he realized the little, frequent flicks Bailey was giving his nipples. "S-Stop..."
"Nope. You're WAAAY too cute like this!" Bailey cooed, nibbling on Ayden's ear as she continued to toy with his stolen body from behind. Hearing the chorus of his moans, accompanied by his frequent head twitches in his attempts to escape, only urged Bailey onward. Slowly, making sure to caress every inch of Ayden on the way down, Bailey's hand reached the small thighs he was clenching shut. "Let me in." Bailey ordered, her voice making every hair on Ayden's body rise. Noticing he was distracted, Bailey went for it. At the base of his cock, Bailey rubbed and fingered its gateway to the open air, letting out a moan herself at the thought of her boyfriend getting wet and hard. "Put your dick back in, Ayden. I'll find a nice, big monster to cram inside you. Doesn't that sound-"
"N-No!" Ayden shouted, forcing Bailey off. Panting, he took a few stomping steps away, before turning back at Bailey, his cum still wet on her jeans. "I-I really don't want to do that..."
"...Alright." Bailey sighed, an apologetic look forming on her face as she grasped the bottom of her shirt and tossed it off. "Took things a bit too far?" She asked, a slight grin appearing on her lips as the briskly took off her jeans, kicking off her panties as well. "Harper doesn't share her apartment, right?" Bailey asked as her bra fell to the floor, adding to the pile of clothes. "...Ayden, you're staring."
"'Course I am!" Ayden shouted, crossing his arms and stomping into Harper's bedroom. With a huff, he flopped down on the bed, quickly joined by Bailey. Although attempting to appear upset, Ayden couldn't help a smile as Bailey put her head between his thighs, eagerly licking the head of his cock. Accidentally letting out a moan, Ayden reached up, stretching and massaging his throat until his voice shifted back up to Harper's rather than his own mid-moan.
"Aww... I liked hearing you moan like that..." Bailey grumbled, pausing her mouth treatment for a moment. "Oh well." She sighed, gobbling up Ayden's cock, her body heating up as his tip rubbed against the back of her throat. Ayden, in his stolen body's voice, let out a shrill moan as his hand rubbed the back of Bailey's head, gently forcing it down more and more. Just as Ayden was starting to climb towards climax, however, Bailey suddenly stopped, popping her head up. "Babe? Why'd you-"
"Weird to hear 'Harper' call me that... whatever. I... I think you'll like something better..." Bailey assured, glancing at Ayden's member, slick with her saliva. Ayden's confusion quickly shifted to excitement as Bailey, locking eyes with her boyfriend, sat down on his cock, earning a shudder and a gasp as it sunk deep into her asshole. As Bailey prepared to make some comment, Ayden thrusted up, turning her thoughts into a booming moan that resonated with Ayden's. Ayden was forced to grip the sheets, his eyes rolling back into his head as he jackhammered upwards, the sensations of "his" pussy getting fucked by his cock, his cock fucking "his" pussy, and Bailey's perfect asshole mixing together, crushing any modicum of self-control Ayden claimed to have. Any coherent or intelligent thought crumbled away, his stolen mouth spewing out anything but English between the moans growing in volume.
Bailey, although better off than her boyfriend, wasn't hugely more coherent. Something about seeing Ayden reduced to Harper was so... enthralling. Nevermind that the normally monotone, apathetic, almost robotic Harper was moaning, screaming, acting like a hound in heat around Bailey. The constant mental pleasure only served to further spike its physical counterpart, something that a rough pounding was doing in spades. Every single time it seemed that Ayden was done, spent in the midst of yet another thick, creamy load, he'd start thrusting again. Harder, faster, more wild in its movements. Neither was sure how long they spent like that, too exhausted to even check a clock or a phone once Bailey, drenched in sweat, flopped down beside Ayden, both panting and groaning, as exhaustion blanketed their minds...
Plotting Some Revenge
Ayden awoke, completely and utterly confused for a few moments. Bailey lying beside him was completely normal, yet... he wasn't in their apartment's bedroom. His body was wrong too, a moment of panic smacking him as he looked down. But, after a few moments, everything flooded back. With his heart still racing, he snuggled up next to Bailey, closing his eyes as her scent filled his nostrils.
"...You should probably be the little spoon like that, huh?" Bailey murmured, a familiar poke in butt replying to her. "Yesterday was... really nice."
"Mmmhmm." Ayden murmured, kissing the back of Bailey's neck as he nestled his shaft between Bailey's cheeks. "Still would've preferred anyone BUT Harper..."
"...Babe?"
"Hm?"
"Harper like, hates you. What's up with that?"
"Don't be mad." Ayden mumbled in his stolen voice. "So... I didn't know she was a she. And there was that party last semester and... got a bit tipsy. Did a 'haha cup check' on her and... kinda kept searching for the cup for longer than I should've."
"Wait, was that-"
"Yeaaaaaah. I couldn't exactly tell you the truth about my black eye." Ayden sighed. "And if I told campus security, I'd be the one with charges. So... 'I walked into a door'. Sorry for lying."
"...It's fine." Bailey whispered, a grin forming on her face. "Annnnnnd, I've got a perfect idea for an apology..."
______________________________
"Ow! It's... like a perma-wedgie! How do you even wear-"
"It's not a bikini that'll slip off! Right, HARPER?" Bailey grunted, slamming her locker shut and shooting a look at her boyfriend. Despite appearances, her heart was fluttering, "Harper" in the middle-school one piece that still fit her small, cute body. Continually, she had to convince herself that she was downright sexy in her one piece, even if her chest felt like it'd burst out of the tight confines of the suit at any moment. "Keep your dick inside, I don't want to see a bulge!" Bailey hissed, her lips trembling as she leaned down to scold Ayden face-to-face.
"Why are you so nervous? Kim'll be in the pool, it's a simple-"
"We still have NO idea if you can... enter someone when you're already in someone, for starters. Second... stop breaking character, HARPER. Third..." Bailey paused, clearing her throat as she flicked Ayden's nipples through his borrowed suit. "You might drown."
"I know how to swim, ba-aaaaailey." Ayden said, correcting himself mid-word.
"Your... buoyancy is different than you're used to." Bailey sighed, covering her mouth to hide her smile. "I'd really rather not give you CPR, you know." She completely lied, already imagining "accidentally" slipping her tongue in.
"...Fair point. But, you know, we could've tested the first and third thing BEFORE we came here." Ayden rebuffed, rolling his eyes. "And even if it DOES work, there's still a few issues. Like-"
"Like others? Harper, no one swims in the campus rec center this early on Saturdays. Except for Kim, obviously. And you'll go underwater, shoot right on up, easy peezy. I'd say go for whichever hole you'd prefer, but-"
"No, that's not the issue. One: I can't keep my eyes open underwater. Two: Harper and you both were... kinda distracted when I entered you two. Kim won't be able to swim or float or anything."
"...Right." Bailey mumbled, stroking her chin. "Harper, can you... make your... opening stretchy while inside? Without making your dick appear or your voice change, I mean."
"Huh? I..." Ayden trailed off, reaching his stolen hands down to his flat rear. Furrowing his brow, he started gently massaging, nodding as he felt Harper's sub-par flesh begin to change to that stretchy, strange form. "Yeah. Why?"
"Okay. Okay. What IF instead of entering Kim, you make her enter Harper?" Bailey asked, jutting out her jaw as her mind raced. "Just stretch yourself out, sit on her face when she rests at the edge of the pool. That'd work, right?"
"...What then? Wouldn't Kim be in control of Harper? How is that-"
"No, no. I..." Bailey sighed, rubbing the front of her teeth with her tongue. "I don't have first-hand experience from your side, but... can you enter Kim after you pull her inside Harper? Or do you like... melt or something?"
"It's... I swim for a bit in this black, forever void. And then I get this urge to 'suit up' and... then I'm Harper. Or you." Ayden explained. "You're saying that... Kim might be in that void, I enter her, go into a SECOND void, and... Bailey I sound like a fucking lunatic."
"Worth a shot, right?" Bailey asked, shrugging as she headed towards the locker room exit and out to the pool...
Rolling With Bailey's Plan
Ayden exchanged a long look with Bailey as he approached the edge of the pool, his heart racing faster and faster with each step. Kim said something, only the snarky tone penetrating deep enough for Ayden to hear. His hands, in an attempt at stealth, pinched and pulled at and around the bottom of his swimsuit, pretending to constantly adjust it as Ayden prepared his stolen body to accommodate Kim's inside it. Then, after what felt like an eternity to Ayden, he looked down, gulping at Kim's wet, panting body as she leaned on the concrete edge of the pool, everything below her armpits submerged in the water.
Kim was completely clueless about what awaited her, raising an eyebrow as "Harper's" arms suddenly went limp. A condescending comment formed in the back of her throat, aimed at the outdated school swimsuit in front of her. Instead, a loud, piercing scream emerged, brought about by two manly hands rocketing out of "Harper's" slit, pushing the swimsuit out of the way as "Harper" squatted down, panting heavily. Kim could only manage another scream, her body refusing to respond to any of her commands, as the two hands grasped her head and pulled.
Absolute darkness filled Kim's senses as the last remnants of her body entered inside. Her swimsuit and goggles fell out, landing in the pool as Harper's body slumped backwards, convulsing as a lump raced down from her head. Bailey raced over, equal parts ecstatic about hearing Kim's scream and concerned, unsure if it would actually work.
Kim, in an endless void, tried screaming. Yet no sound emerged. Her limbs finally seemed to respond, managing to guide her a few previous feet before something touched her. Something that grasped her wrists, holding her in place. Something that grinned as it forced an erect object up her ass, making her desperately try to swim away. Kim tried to force it off, to get away. It was all to no avail, the object suddenly growing larger and faster as it sped inside her further, bringing about an unwanted, tear-filled orgasm. Kim's heart practically stopped as she felt it. Her hands were free, yet... that something was inside her. Burrowing around, a massive lump racing under her skin. Her arms stopped responding, her hands darting up to her chest as her toes flexed. Her mouth bulged for a moment, her mind still struggling to comprehend anything at all as it shut off.
Harper's eyes shot open suddenly, the natural bright green flickering between a deep brown and a blue as they focused on Bailey's face. Bailey could only watch, her heart pounding, as Harper sat up and looked around, seemingly lost for a few moments. Bailey assumed the worst. Until, of course, "Harper" stared at Bailey's chest for just a bit too long.
"Ayden?" Bailey whispered, still not entirely sure. "Did it work? Are-"
"Uh-huh." Ayden answered, frowning as he flexed his fingers. "It's... weird. Like, I have a tiny bit of 'input delay', if that makes sense."
"Well... it's you, controlling Kim, controlling Harper. Makes sense. I guess." Bailey muttered, brushing some blonde hair from her face as Ayden fidgeted on the floor, something obviously wrong. "Ayden? What's..." Bailey began, pausing as Ayden looked into her eyes, making Bailey's heart skip a beat. The needy look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Ayden let out a flurry of squeaks and moans, his hips bucking as Bailey's hand darted down between his legs, his stolen folds gripping on her fingers with every movement Bailey did. Bailey couldn't stop herself, forcing Ayden to fall silent, muffled by her lips, as she danced her tongue around Ayden's stolen mouth. Ayden's small, dainty hands needed to grip something, anything, finding nothing but the hard concrete below. As Bailey came up for air, Ayden could do little more than pant, drool running down his face as he spasmed and twitched in Bailey's grasp. Tears started to form in Ayden's eyes as he grit his teeth, his heart fluttering as Bailey let him wrap his arms around her neck, loudly screaming as his toes curled, a fountain erupting between his thighs.
"...Is Harper like that, or is that all you as a woman?" Bailey whispered, shuddering as Ayden started kissing and sucking on her neck. "Ayden..."
"Kim. Pulled inside. Entered Kim Too. Needed that." Ayden panted, blushing as Bailey removed her fingers, accompanied by a wet "SCHLICK" sound. He felt his heart race as Bailey shifted her hands under his butt and neck, scooping him up with ease. "P-Put me-"
"Nope. You're tiny, cute, and weigh nothing. Somehow..." Bailey whispered, furrowing her brow. "Babe, Harper's what... 4'8", hundred pounds?"
"I... maybe?"
"Kim's... ignore her height, her boobs probably weigh as much as Harper. And... I'm not calling you fat, but..." Bailey murmured, pursing her lips together as she reentered the locker room. "If we add your weight and Kim's weight to Harper's... I'd be struggling to carry you."
"...So... Kim and I aren't part of the equation?"
"Yeah. I think." Bailey sighed, grunting as she guided Ayden down to a bench. Again, her heart fluttered at the sight. "Harper", sitting there, pressing her thighs together, looking far more meek than she would normally, under Ayden's control. "Goddammit Ayden... you're awakening something in me..."
"Huh?" Ayden murmured, gulping as Bailey sat down beside him.
"L-Look, you've got your ass fetish, I..." She paused, blushing as she turned and stared at Ayden. "...I fucking love you being this... meek girl. You're... so fucking cute and I..." She paused, covering her mouth and lowering her gaze. "The things I want to do to you, Ayden..."
"But I don't want to be in Harper, she-"
"Just a bit longer. Please. I wanna keep carrying you around! I want YOU to be the little spoon! I..." Bailey trailed off, her mind running wild. "...I want to make you moan my name until you can't speak anymore." Bailey finished, gulping as Ayden blushed and turned his head away. "Ayden."
"W-What?" Ayden asked, not turning back to look at Bailey.
"...You think you can 'improve' Harper's body? Like... add some of Kim?"
"...Dunno." Ayden mumbled, his hands rising up to his chest. A quiet squeak snuck out as he brushed against his stolen body's erect nipples, the sweaty swimsuit doing nothing to hide the little protrusions. Closing his eyes, Ayden tried to ignore the rising urge to cum yet again, rubbing his almost non-existent breasts through the suit. The moment he felt the "gummy" feeling on the skin, Ayden pulled, letting out a loud moan as the top of the suit tore, bits of material scattering across the locker room floor.
"W-Wow..." Bailey gasped, a warm feeling spreading through her body as "Harper" attempted to conceal her new, massive bust with her tiny hands. Bailey couldn't help herself, reaching out to touch them, confirming that they weren't fake. Ayden responded to her touch with a quiet moan, blushing as Bailey quickly pulled her hand away. "Sorry, I... hard to believe."
"Babe?" Ayden squeaked, standing up all of a sudden. "I... remember when you bitched about that test?" He asked, his quivering lips turning into a grin...
Playing The Part, Plotting Again
"I guess I've just been a bit overwhelmed lately... thanks." "Kim" sighed, her blue eyes glistening with crocodile tears. "I've really got to write it down, don't I?"
"Yeah, well... just don't let it happen again." The kind custodian sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "A student is one thing, a TA forgetting their combo is... irresponsible." He sighed, his eyes stuck on "Kim's" chest, barely contained within her swimsuit.
"I know..." "Kim" pouted, gripping the top of her suit and pulling it away, "accidentally" giving the custodian a full look at her bare chest. "But it means soooo much to me..." "Kim" moaned, rubbing her thighs together.
"W-Well, if you need anything Kim, just..." The custodian gulped, turning his entire body away to hide his erection. "I-I could even let you in an hour early for your swim, if..."
"That would mean THE WORLD to me!" "Kim" giggled, wrapping her arms around the custodian, making sure to rub her ample chest against his back. She made sure to breathe on the back of his neck, making sure every single hair rose, before sucking on the back of his ear. "Call me." "Kim" whispered, unable to suppress a chuckle as the custodian nodded and took off, eager to "handle" the tightness in his pants.
"You're not a bad actor." Bailey sighed, rolling her eyes as "Kim" retrieved her belongings from her locker. "Although I hate your face."
"Rude." Ayden replied, pressing both hands to his stolen face and rubbing it, shifting it to back to Harper's. "This-" Ayden started, repeating the process with his throat. "-Better?" He finished, having changed Harper's voice back to its natural one.
"Hair." Bailey grunted, pointing at Ayden's scalp.
"Ah, right." Ayden chuckled, rubbing and stretching his scalp, quickly replacing Kim's long, black hair with Harper's shorter, messier red. "There." He said, taking off Kim's swimsuit. "Now I'm a tall, sexy Harper. Happy?"
"...Kinda preferred you all short and cute."
"Yeah, well, I didn't. And we've got Kim's clothes here, not Harper's. So... get over it." Ayden grunted, quickly throwing on Kim's prior outfit, consisting of nothing more than a sports bra and some spats shorts. After quickly unlocking Kim's nearby phone, he handed it to Bailey and slipped on Kim's shoes.
"Shit." Bailey hissed, leaning back against the lockers as she flipped through Kim's phone.
"What? She not logged in?"
"No, she is. She just doesn't have access to grades. Professor Carole does."
"Eh?"
"Yeah. Looks like Kim goes in, puts in the grades first, and then Carole adjusts and tweaks them. Meaning we're screwed for past assignments." Bailey sighed, her eyebrow twitching. "Ugh. Kim's got a schedule for fucking everything in here!" She complained, puffing up her cheeks as Ayden stood back up, testing his sneakers. "God... can't you put Harper's boobs instead?"
"No, Kim's top won't-"
"THEN DO SOME MIDDLE GROUND!"
"Can't. It's either mine, Harper's, or Kim's." Ayden explained, feeling slightly nervous at Bailey's glare. "Is it really a problem?"
"Of COURSE it is! My boyfriend's b-bigger than me!" Bailey stuttered, concealing her sweater-clad chest.
"Oh. Well... you're bigger where it matters." Ayden assured, pointing to Bailey's ass with a stupid grin on his face. Bailey, equal parts embarrassed and flattered, turned her back. Ayden, of course, accepted the "invite", cupping Bailey's sweatpants-clad cheeks in his hands and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Hey..." Ayden whispered, kissing Bailey's ear. "Really want Kim's boobs? I'll pull you in anytime..."
"...Can't do stuff with you then."
"R-Right." Ayden stammered, a warm, pleasant feeling spreading through his stolen bodies. "Um..."
"What?" Bailey asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What if I pull you in and... 'suit you up', but then leave?" Ayden asked, getting Bailey to bring a hand to her chin and rub it. "I could probably 'massage' you... Harper's body, I mean, and customize it. You could be you, but... Kim's boobs. Harper's hair? Whatever you want." Ayden said, clearing his throat. "But uh... definitely keeping this." He mumbled, intensifying his ass groping and earning a sigh from Bailey.
"...Let's try it." Bailey muttered, an idea popping into her head. "Wait, Professor Carole..."
"What about..." Ayden began to ask, it suddenly clicking. "That... that's a way to change your grade."
"Yeah." Bailey agreed, nodding her head. "Shower stall? Pull me in there?" She asked, getting a few rapid pecks on her ear for an answer...
Bringing Bailey "Into The Fold"
"Why'd we have to come in here?" Ayden whispered, slightly disappointed to be stripping already. "You said-"
"I said no one would be swimming when we first got here. No idea when someone might show up NOW!" Bailey hissed, peeking out from the shower curtain. "Worst case, they think we're really enjoying the shower."
"...Sure. So, the plan-"
"You pull me in, I 'suit up' inside Kim. Who's inside Harper. Then, you leave, I start messaging Professor Carole, we find her, you go in her, I get an 'A', and... I guess that's it." Bailey sighed, snapping the curtain shut and spinning around to face Ayden. Slightly nervous, she walked over, rubbing her forearm. "So... how's this work? I don't have to strip, right? My clothes..."
"Yeah, they'll come out when you come in." Ayden answered, caressing Bailey's cheek. As her gray eyes blinked, Ayden planted a kiss on her lips, the two moaning as their tongues intertwined. Almost subconsciously, Ayden forced Bailey's back against the shower wall, humping his hips as Bailey's leg rose, kept upright by Ayden's other hand squeezing and rubbing her rear. "Sure you don't wanna strip now?" Ayden whispered, grinning at how red Bailey's face quickly turned.
"J-Just pull me in." Bailey croaked, wincing as Ayden's finger found her hole, rubbing and circling it through her sweatpants. "Ayden, stooooop..."
"Why? Don't you-"
"I-If I'm doing any... lesbian stuff, I'm... taking the lead." Bailey stammered, gripping Ayden's neck and forcing him back, pushing him against the opposite shower wall. "I-I want a... big guy or a... smaller girl. Got it?" She asked, far more cute than authoritative.
"I'll give you a big guy then." Ayden whispered, chuckling as his arms suddenly went limp. Bailey raised an eyebrow, attempting to not look turned on and failing miserably. Her attempt completely shattered as two, familiar, muscular hands grabbing the front of her groin, massaging her through the bottom of the swimsuit, and the sweatpants covering that. As Bailey's mouth curled into a hesitant moan, she felt herself pulled, hip-first, towards Ayden. A quick, soft kiss on her forehead was the last thing she felt before, in an instant, everything went dark.
Bailey was... inquisitive, if anything. Anything she attempted to say wouldn't come out, as if she was muted. It was pitch black, not just in sight, but... every sense. Somehow, she could taste, smell, hear, feel the absence of everything, a complete sensory deprivation. Yet... something was urging her upwards. Higher and higher, she blindly swam, the urge flipping like a switch to another one. She recalled what Ayden had told her, about the 'suiting up' and realized what he meant. Her arms were MEANT to be here. Her legs were MEANT to be here. Her head was MEANT to push upwards.
Bailey gasped, the sudden brightness making her blink. It was odd. Like she was wearing a latex glove over her entire body. And another one over that. Whenever she'd blink, breathe, move any bit of her body, it'd take... a bit. Not terrible, by any means. Hardly even noticeable, maybe... a millisecond or two more than normal. Enough to he noticeable nonetheless.
"...Ayden?" Bailey croaked, flinching at the sound of Harper's voice. "That's... weird." Bailey muttered, looking down between her legs. At some point, probably when she was pulled inside, she'd slid down to the floor. "Ayden? You gonna leave? Or... did you already?" Bailey did not receive a reply. Nervousness kicked in, the possibility that something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong. Bailey had no one to call, to contact, to ask for help. Tears started to well up, Bailey made fruitless attempts to go back to the void, her lip began to quiver. "A-Ayden, please..." Bailey whined.
"Gimme a sec." A familiar voice whispered. Bailey gasped and spun around, trying to find the source, hope building up and crumbling her earlier worry. "Inside. Inside Kim, I mean. I'm uh... actually right behind you in here."
"Are you trapped?! Ayden, what-"
"Nah. Just had an idea." Ayden interrupted, Bailey's hands suddenly shooting to her ass, out of her control. Bailey let out an unconscious moan as they started to rub, harder and harder, faster and faster, until her ass, her own ass, suddenly ballooned, expanding and widening. "There we go! I can take control whenever I want!"
"G-Good. But-" Bailey started, suddenly letting out a moan, her eyes widening as she felt a familiar thickness slam into her from behind. Her hips slammed back and forth, the invisible thrusting forcing her to. Yet... whenever she looked back, there was nothing. And... it didn't feel like there was anything there, exactly.
"Whoa! I can puppet you!" Ayden shouted inside Bailey, her mouth suddenly forced open, an invisible finger prying her lips apart. Bailey could only moan, her tongue darting and circling around an invisible partner. "Yup. Not leaving!" Ayden declared, making Bailey yelp as he slapped her ass on the inside, squeezing it together as he shot a load. Bailey, oddly aroused by the situation, shook her legs, crossing her eyes from the hot semen shooting inside her actual body, the sensation shared, and multiplied, with Kim's body, and Harper's transformed one, wrapped around that.
"B-Behave..." Bailey panted, shuddering as Ayden started kissing and sucking on every inch of her body. Resisting the pleasure, Bailey struggled to stand up, opting to, with some minor difficulty, put her sweatpants and Kim's sports bra on, covering it with her own sweater. As Ayden started slamming away at her anus again, Bailey had to lean against the wall, biting down on the back of her hand as she pleasure slammed into her. As she did, however, her other hand was puppeted, changing her face, hair, and throat, forcing "Harper's" moans and whimpers to change to "Kim's", despite Bailey's attempts at protest.
"Think about it. If you start moaning and cumming in public, Kim'll take the blame. Not Harper's fake, sexy twin, not you." Ayden whispered, shooting another hot load of man magma deep inside Bailey's asshole. "Call Professor Carole. Moan down the mic. Do it."
Bailey simply nodded, attempting to catch her breath as she grabbed Kim's phone off the floor. "Testing, test... just making sure." Bailey whispered, her voice a perfect match to Kim's. Her eyes hazy, she quickly unlocked the phone with Kim's copied fingerprint, swiping through to the contacts. A scowl formed at "Carole", missing any honorific that Kim would've insisted Bailey use for any and every conversation with the woman. "Double fucking standard..." Bailey grumbled, pressing the call button and bringing the phone up to her ear.
One ring. A second ring. A skipped heartbeat. The very real possibility she wouldn't pick up setting in. A third ring. The thought that she might not listen to her voicemail. A fourth ring. The possibility that Kim, somehow, knew two Caroles. That 'Professor Carole' was in her contacts, further down than Bailey swiped.
"...Kim? You're breathing rather heavily." A voice answered, causing Bailey to gasp, having been far too concerned to even hear the click indicating that the call was answered. "Hello? This is Kim, is it not?"
"Y-Yes! My apologies, I just finished a workout and... I need to discuss the grading of some assignments. In person, preferably." Ayden answered, seizing control to help circumvent Bailey's inability to think at the moment. "Would you be available in your office today? I know it's a Saturday, but..."
"...No, I'm afraid. I'm working from home today." Carole sighed. "Upstairs in my study. Use your key." She said, hanging up suddenly.
Bailey and Ayden stood there in silence for a few moments. Thoughts swirled. A first-name basis was least concern. Why, why did Kim have a spare key for Carole's house?! The silence continued as Bailey gathered up the rest of her and Kim's things. Even when leaving, walking on the sidewalk, both remained silent. Ayden remained unmoving, not provoking Bailey on the inside. Bailey simply walked, checking Kim's directions she'd put into her own phone "in case of intoxication, memory loss, or a Samaritan gaining access to this device". Silently, Bailey turned the key to Kim's apartment, tossing everything to the side as she took a deep breath.
"THEY'RE FUCKING, RIGHT?!" Bailey bellowed, running her fingers through the long, black hair she possessed. "I'M NOT CRAZY, RIGHT?!"
"I mean... I didn't want to say anything." Ayden muttered. "But it's definitely poss... fridge. Look at the fridge!"
"Fridge? What are..." Bailey began to ask, falling silent as she stomped over to the little kitchen area. She reached up and cupped her mouth, her gray eyes wide as she scanned over picture after picture, poem after poem, signed notes from Carole, and... conveniently, a written-out set of directions to "Her House". The Her was obvious. Bailey didn't even have to ask, quickly snapping a picture before checking Kim's gallery.
"'Nothing Suspicious' HAS to be it!" Ayden shouted, puppeting the hand to open the folder. Nothing. Pictures of worksheets, answer keys, nothing suspicious at all. Except... every so often, there was an unlabeled, zipped folder. Ayden clicked without hesitation, proven correct as the selfie of Carole, wearing nothing but a lacy bra, popped up. "They're fucking."
"Which means... we're fucking." Bailey mumbled with a gulp. "But... I guess... this is blackmail for my grade." She said, a sinister grin forming on her stolen face. With a devious chuckle, Bailey stormed into Kim's room, eying up her wardrobe with a smirk...
"Visiting" Professor Carole
"Ayden! Stop!" Bailey hissed, suppressing a moan as, inside, Ayden started fingering her from behind. "Carole-"
"Gotta make us look a little excited, don't we?" Ayden whispered, taking control over Harper's transformed mouth, and only her mouth, as he toyed with Bailey's clit inside. Ayden had to bite his lip, both inside and out, a gust of wind blowing up Kim's "borrowed" skirt and giving Harper's transformed folds some much-needed cool air. "No panties was a great choice..." Ayden moaned, forcing Bailey to ring the doorbell before "passing the reins" back to her.
"Don't. Do. That." Bailey hissed, trying to regain her composure as she reached into Kim's stolen purse and grabbing Kim's keys. "She said to let ourselves in, remember?" She hissed, letting out a squeak as she tried jamming in a key. "Ayden! Stop..." She tried to protest, falling forward onto the door as Ayden slammed his dick into her ass. "Mmmng... AYDEN!" Kim shouted, gasping as she managed to unlock the door.
"Right upstairs, remember?" Ayden whispered, right into Bailey's actual ear as he held Bailey's hips in place, ensuring he could pound her easier. Bailey struggled to stumble inside, closing the door behind her before falling to the floor. Her eyes remained locked on the stairwell, the thrill and fear of being discovered only spiking the pleasure. Biting her lip, Bailey started moving along with Ayden's inside movements, her braless, borrowed breasts swaying and bouncing as she did. The carpet was torn up, clumps of fabric trapped in Bailey's fingertips as Ayden shot his load inside her. "I'll make sure you can't fake it if Carole goes down on us." Ayden promised, grinning inside as Bailey stood up on shaky legs, her nectar running down her upper thighs.
"My grade comes first." Bailey panted, brushing some sweaty strands of black hair from her eyes. Adjusting her borrowed blouse, Bailey crept up the stairs, more than a little excited at Ayden's promise. Gulping, Bailey reached a door, knocking on it with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
"You don't have to knock, you know." A familiar voice answered. Bailey gulped and turned the knob, walking into the room. Carole was sitting at a desk, her usual glasses on, grading some papers. "Was ringing the doorbell your attempt at a joke?" Carole asked, not bothering to look up from her desk.
"...Yeah." Bailey answered, quietly closing the door behind her. "I wanted to discuss-"
"What are you wearing?" Carole interrupted, her eyebrows raised. "...I see you neglected a bra today." She sighed, setting her glasses down on her desk. "And... you seem... different."
"H-How so?"
"Colored contacts are... rather tacky, for starters. And... your skirt emphasizes your..." Carole paused, making a curved gesture in the air with her hand. "Is this an attempt to seduce me?" She asked, standing up suddenly. As Bailey opened her mouth, unsure of what she would even say, Carole cleared her throat. "Whose grade are you after? Flunking that... idiot with the hair dye?"
"Um..." Bailey mumbled, finding herself, courtesy of Ayden, unable to move as Carole stepped over, emphasizing her hips with every step. Bailey's heart raced along with her mind as Carole caressed Bailey's chin, forcing her to look up as Carole brought her lips down. As Carole's tongue sunk in, Bailey's eyes widened, shocked at what she felt.
"Uh... I'm not crazy, right? She has two tongues, right?!" Ayden blurted out inside, sharing the odd sensation along with Bailey. Bailey was lost for words, unable to answer even if she could, doing little more than blink as Carole abruptly pulled back, a sly grin on her beautiful face.
"Wh-What was that?" Bailey murmured, completely forgetting that she should've known in the heat of the moment.
"Playing dumb, are we? Ah... I'll humor you." Carole cooed, sticking her bright red tongue out, showing that, at the end of it, it was split. Further still, Carole moved each side independently, letting out a quiet giggle at "Kim's" bewildered face. "Kim, I... used to be a... rebel, shall we say. And you, my little assistant... you kindle those rebellious embers still in me."
"The tongue? That-"
"A piercing. One that... didn't heal correctly. And..." Carole paused, deeply inhaling through her nose. "A former... lover of mine rather liked it like this." She whispered, bringing in her lips for another sensual, yet odd, kiss. This time, however, Ayden gripped Bailey's actual tongue with his fingers, forcing Bailey to reciprocate Carole's kiss. "...Kim." Carole whispered, coming up for air.
"Y-Yes?" Bailey stammered, gulping as Carole caressed her face once more.
"Who are you? Really?" Carole asked, an oddly sweet smile on her face. "We both know you're not Kim."
"I-I-"
"The real Kim would've walked right on in, sitting on my desk, begging for attention, commenting on my penmanship. Nevermind your appearance." Carole whispered, licking her lips as she took a deep, long inhale of Bailey's hair. "You smell... far too sweet as well. Her secret twin, perhaps?"
"And if I'm not Kim?" Bailey asked, flinching as Carole took another deep sniff of Bailey's hair and neck. "I know you and Kim have a relationship, I know about your tongue, I..."
"You think anyone will believe you? Dear, I don't let my hair down in public." Carole whispered, making Bailey tremble as she licked her ear, sticking her odd split tongue inside. "This image I've built up, over decades, won't crumble so easily."
"Are you sure about that?" Ayden asked, taking control for a moment. "I think you'll do whatever we want." He said, two hands suddenly shooting out of Kim's skirt and grabbing Carole's thigh. Carole managed to get out a confused grunt before getting pulled inside, disappearing with a "PLOP", her clothes falling into a pile on the floor as Bailey felt her senses get yanked away.
Carole was at a loss, floating in the void. Yet... fascination was the predominant emotion. Not fear, not terror, not confusion. Her emotion only increased as a pair appeared out of nowhere, "swimming" over to her. She recognized one, a certain student Kim had a grudge for. The other... Carole had no idea. A handsome man, yet to Carole, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Carole didn't resist when the male member of the duo swam behind her, stroking and rubbing her rear entrance. It felt wonderful, of course, yet Carole had a complaint. If she could've voiced it, she would've asked for a pen and a pad of paper to record her observations. Her fascination increased, massively, as she felt her anus expand rapidly, the man holding it open. A flurry of questions formed inside her as... Bailey, yes, that was her name, swam inside her extended opening. Carole expected pain, yet couldn't help grinning, the sensation rivaling no other in pleasure. When... Bailey's hips finally squeezed through, Carole's eyes crossed, her pussy throbbing with glee as the man plugged her hole with his shaft. Floating in the void, Carole's body convulsed and shook, the pumping of the man's cock stopping, replaced by a fervent pulsing. Carole could feel her mind slipping away as it erupted inside her, any thoughts replaced by the dark surrounding her.
Bailey's eyes shot open, moaning and shaking as something sped down her body. Her hips bucked as it slid out. Yet... it didn't appear. Bailey was confused for a moment, realizing what was happening as it sped down yet again. She managed to catch a glimpse of a lump racing down her stomach, forcing her to loudly moan as it reached her groin. Her eyes crossed, her back arching as her anus was pushed apart, a speeding bullet in the shape of Ayden launching out, forcing an earthquake of an orgasm on Bailey's stolen body.
"Ahhh... good to be me again!" Ayden chuckled, helping Bailey up from the writhing mass she was on the floor. Bailey was panting, a needy look in her eye, her mouth salivating as she locked onto her boyfriend's twitching member. "Bailey... we gotta change your grade, remember?" Ayden teased, walking over to Carole's desk, leaving Bailey alone, her body craving his. "Let's see, her laptop-"
"Ayden... please." Bailey croaked, her body quivering. "Don't leave me like this..."
"Guess we aren't in no rush..." Ayden sighed, feigning disappointment as he returned to his needy, horny girlfriend. As she puckered her lips for a kiss, Ayden grasped her tongue with his lips. Gently, he "massaged" her tongue with his mouth, focusing on it. Bailey was amazed as it changed, the end splitting in two after a few moments. "Hold on, few more things." Ayden whispered, letting Bailey squirm her new tongue around in the air. Refusing to explain, he brought his hands to her face, roughly massaging that, her throat, and her scalp. "THERE we go!" Ayden exclaimed, admiring his handiwork.
"What did..." Bailey started, relieved, at least, to hear her own voice. Yet... there was red hair drifting down across her face. "Ayden, what-"
"Thought you'd look hot as a redhead. Your face and voice is all yours." Ayden explained, letting out a grunt as he hooked his hands under Bailey's legs and scooped her up. Bailey's heart started to race, burying her face into Ayden's bare shoulder, letting him carry her into the bedroom across the hall. She couldn't help but feel excited as Ayden practically threw her onto the bed, mounting her without bothering to tear off her stolen clothes. "We'll change your grade... tomorrow. 'Cause you're not going anywhere until we're done."
"O-Okay." Bailey stammered, her chest tightening as Ayden slid his hand up her thigh, rubbing it with his thumb. As Ayden planted a kiss on her lips, she shut her eyes, a satisfied grin forming as his other hand grasped hers, locking his fingers with hers. Bailey attempted to use her new, borrowed tongue, yet found herself unable to focus as Ayden pressed his tip against her wet, trembling opening. A moan escaped through her nose, her feet flinching, as Ayden slowly thrust inside, her insides gripping his shaft tight enough to almost hurt.
"Fuck. No condom." Ayden whispered suddenly, starting to pull out. As he did, however, a pair of legs pulled him back in, Bailey taking a deep breath as he did. "Bailey, I-"
"Harper's problem, not mine." Bailey whispered, a sinister grin breaking out on her face.
"...Fair enough." Ayden sighed, slamming his cock, full-force, into Bailey. As she opened her mouth to moan, Ayden sealed it with his lips, prodding and caressing her tongue with his. Ayden's hand, the one not locked with Bailey's, slid upwards, under Kim's stolen blouse, handling her bouncing, modified breasts as he continued slamming against her depths. Bailey, unable to control herself, took her other arm and coiled it around Ayden's neck, desperate to hold him as close as possible, her legs helping the process. "Babe!" Ayden shouted suddenly, his cock twitching and throbbing. "Y-You sure?!"
"Mmmhmm!" Bailey murmured, intensifying her hold as she forced her tongue back into Ayden's mouth. As his cock hardened, the tip rubbing against her cervix, Bailey bit down on his lip, unable to stop her toes from curling, her back from arching, as he shot his load, all but guaranteeing Harper's future pregnancy.
"...Babe... that was amazing..." Ayden panted, slumping down, his softening cock still twitching inside Bailey's stolen, transformed body.
"My... grade... can... probably... wait..." Bailey panted, her body still on a post-orgasm high. "One... more?"
"...Bailey... wait. Does Carole live alone?" Ayden asked, positive he just heard a car pull into the driveway...
Discovery
"I-I mean, SERIOUSLY?! LOOK!" Bailey shouted, pointing at her phone screen. "Who LOSES credit for being early to class?!"
"...Wow." Ayden sighed, caressing Bailey's thigh as he pretended to stare at his girlfriend's phone. "Not to be that guy, but... why not just show up like, on time instead?"
"You REALLY think Kim's not gonna find something else to find wrong?! God, you know that test last week? Gave me a FORTY because 'blank ink is in poor taste' AFTER last time! Can't use a pencil, can't use a pen, lemme guess, I gotta prick my fucking finger and write with blood?!" Bailey shouted, her face red from her frustration. "I cannot WAIT to be done with this shit!"
"...Want me to talk to your professor or... something?" Ayden asked, gulping as Bailey snapped her head towards him.
"Babe, I..." Bailey started, her tone harsh. Upon seeing her boyfriend's face, however, she paused, took a deep breath, and tried to relax. Slightly. "Look, I just..." Bailey sighed, averting her eyes. "Kim'll start rumors the second you close the door behind you. Doesn't matter if it's her, the professor... the janitor, honestly."
"And?"
"Ayden. You really want a rumor to start about you... doing something to some poor, defenseless, helpless woman behind closed doors?" Bailey sighed, rolling her eyes as Ayden's expression didn't change in the slightest. "She'll say you raped her. Or both of them, knowing her."
"Oh." Ayden mumbled, biting his upper lip. "Yeah, that's... not great."
"No shit." Bailey sighed, flopping her head back on the pillow. Covering her gray eyes with her forearm, she finally noticed her boyfriend's hand. "Babe, what are you doing?"
"...Rubbing your thigh."
"Not in the mood."
"Maybe Kim-" Ayden started, immediately stopping when Bailey's glare peeked out from beneath her forearm. "Joking. Joking. Babe, I'm joking." Ayden insisted, a single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "C'mon, it's been a few days..."
"..."
"Pleeeeease? Babe, I-"
"I JUST got off my period." Bailey grumbled, sighing as Ayden started running his lips up her arm, showering it in short, little kisses. "Fine. I... I guess I did kinda appreciate those massages..."
"And you said Massage 1001 was a stupid class!" Ayden snickered, snaking his hand between Bailey's soft thighs. "Prof said they helped with cramps and... WHAT did you say after the first 'demonstration' on you?"
"...They did." Bailey admitted, blindly reaching over to her nightstand with one arm as Ayden's lips ran up her other. As Ayden's fingers brushed against her entrance, Bailey flinched slightly, shooting Ayden a look as she grasped the golden square sitting atop the nightstand. As she brought it over, Bailey glanced over and double-checked the nightstand, sighing as she did. "Last one."
"Last... oh. I'll buy more tomorrow." Ayden muttered, his dick twitching as Bailey expertly tore open the golden wrapper with her teeth. The twitching intensified as Bailey immediately popped the latex treasure into her mouth. "Babe, I LOVE when-"
"Mmmng mn!" Bailey mumbled, sliding down the bed. Rolling atop Ayden, Bailey couldn't stop the cloud of arousal from making her head spin, the scent of her man's rod activating her neurons. As she brought her head down, latex in mouth, Ayden couldn't stop himself from running his tongue over Bailey's opening, his eyes locked on to her twitching exit nearby. Bailey had to breathe through her nose, resisting every urge to moan, as her tongue coiled around the ribbed latex she was forcing around Ayden's shaft. Finally, after getting it "good enough", Bailey raised her head, just as Ayden's tongue darted, deeply licking the wrong hole. Entirely on purpose, of course. "Ah... AYDEN!" Bailey moaned, her body jittery.
"You KNOW I can't help myself around this!" Ayden laughed, molding Bailey's pale cheeks with glee, making sure to "accidentally" slip a finger or two in her recently licked exit. Bailey, despite the rough moans she was unconsciously emitting, puffed up her cheeks and pulled her lower half away, earning a whine from Ayden. Soon enough though, Bailey was lowering herself on Ayden's erect member, her satisfied face looking down at Ayden.
"Mmm... Ayden..." Bailey murmured, her pussy throbbing as it became the sheath for Ayden's manly blade. A shiver ran up her body, forcing her hands to ever so slightly grip the chest they rested on. Her face became flush as she started, unconsciously, bobbing her hips up and down, Ayden's firm grip on her glorious ass assisting her movements. Sweat started forming on her face, her eyes closing shut and fluttering. As she started getting comfortable in her groove, however, Ayden switched things up, roughly fingering Bailey's anus as he started furiously thrusting upwards. "HHNNG?!" Bailey grunted, her body tensing up as her teeth dug into her bottom lip.
As much as Ayden wanted to make a snarky comment, he couldn't muster more than a moan, his back arching as he slammed into his limit. His eyes rolling back into his head, Ayden's dick strained against its latex container, filling it with a thick, roapy load. Bailey, at her own limit, fell onto Ayden's chest, panting and murmuring anything but words as Ayden's member twitched inside her.
"Babe..." Ayden finally managed to pant, spurred on by a kiss on the neck. "That was amazing..."
"Mmm..." Bailey murmured, her heart racing as she basked in the skinship she was experiencing.
"...That was the last condom, right?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Any chance-"
"No."
"Please?"
"No, Ayden."
"I'll give you a massage."
"...Fine. Just... gimme a sec." Bailey sighed, shuddering as she slid her hips up and to the side. As Ayden started rubbing her ass, Bailey let out another sigh, kissing his neck and half-heartedly sucking. "Massage first." Bailey demanded, earning a quiet grunt from Ayden. "No oil this time."
"Alright. Only 'cause I love you." Ayden sighed, his hands rising to the back of Bailey's head and slowing rubbing it. Ayden continued, for more than a few minutes, enjoying Bailey's proximity as well. Eventually though, after a long kiss, Bailey rested her head on her arms, an eager grin on her face as Ayden sat on the back of her knees, rubbing his hands together, eager to get the massage over with and get to the main event.
"OooooOoooOOOOO..." Bailey moaned, her hips rising from the bed as Ayden firmly pressed his hands against her shoulders. "R-Right THEEErrrrrre..."
"Jeez, Kim's making you stress that much?" Ayden sighed, firmly rubbing and forcing his knuckles down, his still-erect cock twitching whenever Bailey would moan or squeak cutely. As he reached the base of Bailey's spine, however, Ayden had to blink. Repeatedly. "...The fuck?" Ayden whispered, gulping as his fingers seemed to... sink into Bailey. Instead of the expected resistance, being skin and all, it... it felt like it was closer to pudding. But whenever Ayden would sharply pull his hand back, the little "divots" on Bailey's body would snap back into place, as if nothing had happened.
"Ayden?" Bailey asked, her face flush.
"Y-Yeah?" Ayden stammered, unsure if he was hallucinations.
"Don't stop, it... it feels fucking incredible. Whatever you're doing differently, don't... don't stop." Bailey mumbled, biting down on her forearm to suppress a moan as Ayden touched her lower back once more.
"...G-Good. It's... it's a new tech." Ayden lied, continuing the massage despite the oddity. However much he tried, however, he could truly get his mind off it. Bailey's back, shoulders, arms, legs, thighs, even the bottom of her foot, they all... had the oddity. And Bailey, if her moans and occasional sashaying of her hips, begging for attention in her throbbing womanhood, were any indication, this massage was magical in more than one way. "Babe, there's... there's a finale to this." Ayden mumbled, his eyes wide as he stretched and pulled on Bailey's ass, watching it stretch and snap into place as if it was made of bungee cord.
"Huh? Oh, okay..." Bailey murmured, her mind hazy from the supernatural pleasure Ayden was showering her with.
Gulping, Ayden pushed a finger into Bailey's anus. Immediately, he realized that this too was affected. Tight. Hot. That's how it should've been. But it wasn't. There was a shocking lack of resistance instead. And... something akin to suction? Not physically, but... mentally? Spiritually? Ayden wasn't sure how to label it, but listened regardless. A second finger. A third. An entire hand. Bailey displayed no new response, no indication of awareness other than some loud panting. Up the elbow. Ayden was appalled. Not only for Bailey's non-response, but... her biology. Ayden was, by no means, a biology expert. But... there was nothing. Something that was confirmed when Ayden's shoulder stretched inside. Instead of the organs or something Ayden expected, there was nothing. Curiosity overtaking him, Ayden thrust his other hand in as well, spreading Bailey's rear exit open as wide as he could, watching the odd, elastic properties he hoped for.
Bailey didn't react.
Ayden sincerely thought about stopping. Or making a joke about shining a light in, going spelunking or something along those lines. But... that odd pulling sensation overtook him, crushing any resistance he had prior. He dove in, earning a series of confused grunts and moans as his shoulders slipped inside. Ayden was in complete darkness, surging forward relentlessly, the thought that he'd somehow taken LSD an ever-present one. As his last toe slipped inside, Ayden felt an odd urge. An urge he immediately listened to.
Outside, Bailey was undergoing her own confusion. She felt ecstatic, her entire body tingling from a combination of orgasm and... something else she couldn't quite place. Stranger than that, however, was the sounds her stomach was making. Churning, groaning, even quiet squeaks. Yet... Bailey didn't feel like questioning it, some odd urge compelling her to relax. To make her not care as a lump surged down her arm, flexing and stretching the flesh around it. To not question it as three other lumps did the same to her other arm, her two legs. To do nothing but smile as a bulge, more defined and larger than the rest, writhed up her neck, making her cough and sputter. To not question where Ayden went as her mind went dark.
Ayden blinked several times, blinded by the sudden light. He smacked his lips together, scrunching his face up at the... odd sensations caressing his body. Ayden was at a loss for words, frankly. One moment he was forcing himself into some sort of suit, the next he's... laying in bed, face-down? Then, it hit him. Ayden shot up, his eyes wide. He reached up to the blonde strands of hair in front of his eyes. He stared at his hands, mouth agape at their foreign, yet intimately familiar form. Unlocking Bailey's phone, with her fingerprint, sent his head spinning. The result when he turned the camera on earned a scream. A scream that was high pitched, in a voice that wasn't his own...
Exploration and Explanation
"I..." Ayden murmured, prodding the face staring back at him in the mirror, the gray he expected replaced by a familiar blue that would normally greet him. He was completely, utterly lost for words. To say that Bailey's... odd body during the massage still weighed heavily on his mind would be an understatement. What followed, him entering her ass and... suddenly being her was enough for Ayden's mind to race. To jump at every possible, conceivable or not, explanation. LSD in the water supply. A dream. Even the chance that he'd, somehow, died and was reincarnated inside Bailey. Anything, something had to be an answer.
"This... it can't be real." Ayden whispered, shaking his head as he left the bathroom. Alas, it didn't matter how hard he pinched himself, how fast the flurry of self-inflicted slaps on his face were, nor how much he tried to deny it. He was, most definitely, Bailey. And somehow, despite how frequent Ayden mumbled to the contrary, it was real.
"I... I'm Bailey. I..." Ayden mumbled, the gears of his mind turning. Standing at the foot of the bed, Ayden finally looked down. "...It's fine, right?" Ayden asked himself, bringing his hands to his chest and gently rubbing them. A quiet moan, one that made Ayden look around, confirming to himself that he'd actually made it, snuck out of his mouth as he brushed against his nipple. "Holy... are all women like this, or is Bailey..." Ayden mumbled, a certain object catching his eye. "Fuck. Am I... actually considering this?"
Ayden, slightly sick to his stomach, grasped the recently used condom with the tips of his pointer finger and thumb. The fluid inside, still warm to the touch, made him doubt himself once more. Yet... his mouth couldn't stop watering. They'd had the conversation tens of times. Bailey always swallowed, always insisted that it was delicious. Always teasing, playfully, that Ayden's claims that he'd "fucking never" tried it himself was a complete lie. Which... it was, of course.
Clenching his eyes shut, Ayden dipped his tongue in. The second his tastebuds submerged, his eyes shot open, a hand shooting up to his mouth. Despite salivating, Ayden walked over and threw the condom into the garbage can. He'd never admit it, for obvious reasons, but... Bailey, her tastebuds at least, absolutely adored it. Adored it enough that Ayden's hands were trembling, fighting to cling to his self-control as a warm, tingly sensation spread through his body.
Ayden didn't even realize what he was doing until his thumb graced his clit. Immediately, Ayden yelped, glancing down at his hand, his fingers coated in a thin layer of Bailey's juices. Ayden, his breath short and sharp, couldn't not bring said fingers to his lips, moaning and murmuring from the sweet, acrid taste. Unable to help himself, Ayden fell to the bed, savoring Bailey's taste with one hand as his other dove down below. The mattress shook and squeaked as Ayden's hips moved on their own, humping the fingers penetrating him. Moans became louder, the words Ayden attempted to say became less and less clear. Thoughts became less clear, more frenzied, more depraved in nature. Toes curled, teeth biting the sheets as Ayden let out a squeal, just as a thought popped into his head.
Ayden couldn't articulate his thoughts, simply panting and quietly groaning as he shut his eyes. He had to wonder why he didn't think of it sooner, simply doing the opposite of what he'd done in the first place. With a bit of focus, he felt his senses snap away, suddenly... dark again. Bailey's voice, sighing and whimpering, was omnipresent, surrounding him from every angle. Panicking, Ayden pulled his arms and legs out of the invisible "suit", every instinct telling him it was a bad idea. A mistake. Ayden simply buried them, swimming through the abyss until he hit a wall. A wall with a bit of light filtering through it. Frantically, Ayden raced for it, forcing himself as Bailey's sounds, still present, became louder, more excited, more exhilarated.
Ayden gasped, blinking repeatedly as his head emerged, Bailey's cheeks spread apart to let him through. His heart raced, pounding louder and louder, as he forced himself out more and more, only slowing down when his hips got stuck. He tried going slowly, Bailey's shrill moans raising more than a little concern. But... Ayden quickly became impatient. Whispering "like a bandage" to himself, he placed both hands on the mattress and, with every ounce of his strength, pushed himself out with a "PLOP" that reverberated through the bedroom.
Ayden quickly shot up, making sure Bailey was seemingly fine, yet unconscious, her ass raised up in the air. Only then did he look down at himself, flexing his fingers and toes. He was... oddly clean. It was a relief, of course, but raised further questions in Ayden's mind. Shouldn't he be... in need of a shower? Especially if, somehow, he forced his entire body inside Bailey's asshole and then back out again? That "concern" could wait, however.
"What am I doing?!" Ayden shouted, shaking his head. "I'm not the one who..." He trailed off, gently shaking Bailey. "Babe? Babe? BABE?!"
"...Nnnng." Bailey grunted, a frown forming on her sleeping face.
"Thank... NO, WE GOTTA TALK!" Ayden shouted, shaking Bailey much more firmly. Yet, Bailey did little more than groan and grunt, her eyelids practically stapled shut. "Fine. Just... sorry. FIRE! FIRE! BAILEY-" Ayden screamed, shaking Bailey with all his might.
"W-What?!" Bailey shouted, raising her head. Her eyes wide, she managed to get up and to the door before Ayden grasped her wrist and stopped her. "AYDEN?! YOU SAID-"
"Looklooklook, I know I lied, I know I... practically gave you a heart attack. But..." Ayden paused, gulping as Bailey caught her breath. "You wouldn't wake up and... what happened is absolutely fucking crazy."
"...What are you talking about? I..." Bailey trailed off, scrunching up her face. "...I passed out in the middle of the massage. And... there's no fire? Thank God."
"You don't... Bailey, I... your ass?"
"Did you... while I slept?" Bailey asked, blushing as she grasped her ass. "Babe, that's... don't do that..."
"What? No, I... I like, crawled inside you!" Ayden shouted, earning an understandably confused, skeptical look from Bailey. "I was like, in your body and I fingered myself and-"
"Stop. Repeat that. Slowly." Bailey sighed, raising her hand to her forehead. Yet, as she did, she noticed something. Skeptically, she sniffed her fingers, her eyes widening from the familiar scent. Not to mention, of course, the wetness between her legs, reaching her thighs. A recent wetness, spread further out than the wetness from the sex she remembered. "Ayden, you're... serious?"
"One hundred... hold on." Ayden mumbled, staring down at the wrist he'd latched onto. Bailey, confused, followed his gaze, gasping at the sight of her wrist caving in. All without any sense of pain. "S-See?"
"Ayden... this... is this you, or is this me?" Bailey whispered, gulping as she tried to pull away from Ayden's grasp, failing as, like bubblegum, her arm simply stretched out instead. A scream started to form in the back of her throat, dying back down as Ayden released her, her skin snapping back into place the second he did.
"I... I have no fucking idea." Ayden admitted, pinching himself in a pointless attempt to wake up from the non-existent dream.
"...I have a test subject in mind to find out." Bailey muttered, her lips quivering into a grin as she walked over to her phone and quickly typed up a text to a certain someone...
Using A Test Subject
"I thought you were gonna suggest Kim!" Ayden hissed, crossing his arms as Bailey leaned on the doorbell. "Babe, seriously. Why..." Ayden asked yet again, quieting down as the door creaked open. He slowly exchanged a look with Bailey, pouting as his girlfriend all but dragged him inside. Rubbing the back of his neck, Ayden cleared his throat. "...Harper."
"...Ayden." Harper grunted, crossing her arms as she glared at Ayden. "Bailey said you had something for me?"
"...Yeah." Ayden grunted, rolling his eyes.
"And?" Bailey hissed, elbowing Ayden in the chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send the message, loud and clear.
"...Look, my bad for the... party thing." Ayden sighed, scratching his chin as he silently wished he really could forget that night. "Bailey keeps saying I'm... really good at massages, so..."
"He really is. And I'll be here, making sure he doesn't... you know Ayden." Bailey explained, handing Harper a few odd bits of mail. "Haven't opened anything, obviously. They uh... still haven't figured out the difference between '13' and '31', huh?" Bailey attempted to joke, forcing out a laugh.
"Whatever." Harper sighed, signaling to the pair to close the door. "How naked do I have to be for this... apology massage?"
"Uh... like... bra and shorts?" Bailey answered, unsure until Ayden shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, I'd-"
"Let's get it over with." Harper sighed, tossing off her crop top nonchalantly, her small breasts shielded by a rather lacy white bra. Without another word, her jean shorts dropped as well, a matching white, lacy pair of panties on display. "Lay on my stomach, right?" Harper asked, flopping down on the couch nearby, her flat ass doing almost nothing for Ayden.
"Babe, I seriously don't wanna be in her!" Ayden hissed quietly. "If we do this with Kim, I can fix your grade, ruin her reputation, shit like that! Harper's-" Ayden protested, stopped by Bailey's finger up to his lips.
"Worst case, you give her a massage. Best case, we know it's you, not me. Now do it." Bailey insisted quietly, replacing her finger with her own lips for a quick peck.
Ayden, knowing it was pointless to argue, rolled his eyes and stumbled over to the couch. Exchanging a quick look with Bailey, he slowly sat down on the back of Harper's knees, earning a grunt. However... the groin-kick he expected never arrived. Somewhat relieved, Ayden brought the palms of his hands down on the back of Harper's neck. Gently at first, using his "worthless credit's" techniques on Harper. A mixture of relief and concern washed over him at first. Until he reached the shoulders.
"Holy... you're not bAAd at this..." Harper moaned, biting her lip to suppress a moan as the rhythmic rubbing and pushing started to feel... oddly amazing. "Bit lower..." She ordered, shuddering as Ayden's hands worked their magic at the center of her back. Closing her eyes, Harper's hips started to rock, the soft fabric of her panties containing a sudden spike in heat.
"It's you." Bailey whispered, eyes wide as Ayden seemed to pull and stretch at Harper's skin, all without the redhead seemingly noticing. "Hey, Harper?!"
"Hm?"
"Enjoying it?"
"Mmmhmm." Harper murmured, burying her head in the couch cushion as a climax started to build. She wanted to force Ayden off, to start screaming questions. To demand to know if this was some elaborate plan of his to see her orgasm. Yet... there was a gnawing sensation in the back of her head, urging her to let it continue.
"Do it. The way you did me." Bailey hissed, pulling Harper's panties to the side, an action Harper didn't seem to question, let alone mind. "Gotta make sure. All of it."
"F-Fine." Ayden hissed, sliding his hands down to Harper's boyish ass. It, in his mind, wasn't even worth rubbing. Instead, with a desire to get it over with, Ayden buried both hands inside. The entire world seemed to slow down, falling deathly silent for a moment. Yet... Harper didn't protest. She simply started humping the couch, her eyes crossed as drool leaked forth from her curved lips.
"Was... I like this?" Bailey asked quietly. Ayden answered with a nod as he plunged deeper with ease, only stopping at his shoulders to take a deep breath. Did he need to? He was unsure, but wanted to play it safe. With one last look at Bailey, with his own eyes at least, Ayden slammed his head inside. Bailey could only watch, completely captivated as Ayden effortlessly slid inside, even giggling to herself as the final toe made a "PLOP" sound upon disappearing inside. Harper, letting out a gravely moan, suddenly shook and trembled, inadvertently causing Bailey to jump as Ayden's outfit suddenly shot out of his entrance point, wrinkled but otherwise no worse for wear.
Bailey, intrigued more than ever, found herself following an odd, baseball-sized lump suddenly appear at the base of Harper's spine. It seemed to roam this way and that before arriving at the nape of her neck, pausing for a moment before four, smaller lumps shot out, racing down Harper's arms and legs. Harper's feet and hands flexed a few times, just as she let out a loud, deep moan, the "main" lump shooting upwards into her neck.
Ayden blinked a few times, shuddering as he did. He felt... amazing, really. His... new organ was throbbing, begging for attention. Yet, he ignored it, forcing himself to sit up, meeting a gleeful Bailey as he did. As he opened his mouth, Bailey suddenly grabbed his chin, gasping as she looked into his eyes.
"Whoa... Ayden, that's you, isn't it?" Bailey whispered, captivated by her boyfriend's eye color steadily "polluting" Harper's bright green with his blue color. "Your eyes, they're..."
"Wheb..." Ayden started, waiting for Bailey to release his chin before trying again. "When I was in you, your eyes were blue. Is that..."
"Yeah. It's like... someone's putting little pipettes of blue dye in." Bailey explained, nodding as Ayden stood up on shaky legs. Instinctively, she caught him, her heart racing as he looked up at her. "A-At boob level, huh?" Bailey attempted to joke, blushing as Ayden did.
"Can I leave her body now? I don't like being this short or..." Ayden began, trailing off as he heard the drumming of Bailey's beating heart. Like that "pulling" sensation from earlier, Ayden felt something deep inside himself. He couldn't explain it, but he needed to listen to it.
Bailey let out a disappointed sigh as Ayden pushed himself off of her. Almost immediately, however, disappointment turned to intrigue as he yanked off the panties he was now wearing. Intrigue turned to... startled arousal, if anything, as Ayden started to rub and massage his new slit, turning it into that strange, elastic form. Quickly, the startled arousal became excited arousal as Ayden forced two fingers and a thumb inside himself, letting out a loud, girly moan as he pulled. And pulled. Until finally, with a satisfied groan, the two testicles dropped, resting at the base of a throbbing cock. Yet, Ayden didn't stop, bringing his hand to his throat and rubbing it furiously, clearing his throat all the while.
"La la... testing... THERE we go!" Ayden shouted, his own voice emerging from Harper's mouth. "It seems-"
"You can make parts of your body appear on whoever you're in." Bailey finished, oddly aroused by the whole situation. "You think... you can enter someone inside someone else? Or..."
"Babe?" Ayden asked, blushing as he wrapped his arms around Bailey's waist, burying his face in her bust. Groaning, he started thrusting, the jean fabric covering Bailey's thighs feeling far better than it should have...
Enjoying The Test Subject
"A-Ayden! What's up with you?! Stop do-" Bailey managed to protest, gasping as something hot spurted onto the thighs of her jeans. She didn't have to look down to confirm what it was, the loud, familiar moan from between her chest doing the job well enough. "...My jeans, Ayden..."
"You're right... take them off." Ayden sighed, his cock still throbbing, standing at attention on his stolen body. "It feels AMAZING, Bailey, you don't even know..."
"...My jeans?"
"Mmmm... no." Ayden moaned, his hips thrusting once again. "Babe, just..." He paused, shuddering as he, reluctantly took a step back from Bailey. Gesturing to his stolen groin, he rocked his hips, his cock rubbing against his stolen snatch as he did. "Fuuuuuck, this..."
"You feel both?" Bailey asked, unable to hide a grin as Ayden weakly nodded. "Ayden... you know..." Bailey chuckled, covering her mouth as a thought popped into her head. "R-Really taking 'go fuck yourself' to a whole new level, eh?" She asked, suppressing a giggle as Ayden glared at her with Harper's cute face. "C'mon, that's funny! Don't-" Bailey began, bursting out into all out laughter as Ayden struggled to reach behind him and unclasp Harper's arguably unnecessary bra.
"Quit it! How do..." Ayden grumbled, sighing as Bailey approached, spun him around, and effortlessly took care of it. "Why can't she just get those ones that buckle in the front like yours?!" Ayden shouted. "SERIOUSLY, like, it's easier for me, easier for AHN?!" Ayden moaned suddenly, blushing as he realized the little, frequent flicks Bailey was giving his nipples. "S-Stop..."
"Nope. You're WAAAY too cute like this!" Bailey cooed, nibbling on Ayden's ear as she continued to toy with his stolen body from behind. Hearing the chorus of his moans, accompanied by his frequent head twitches in his attempts to escape, only urged Bailey onward. Slowly, making sure to caress every inch of Ayden on the way down, Bailey's hand reached the small thighs he was clenching shut. "Let me in." Bailey ordered, her voice making every hair on Ayden's body rise. Noticing he was distracted, Bailey went for it. At the base of his cock, Bailey rubbed and fingered its gateway to the open air, letting out a moan herself at the thought of her boyfriend getting wet and hard. "Put your dick back in, Ayden. I'll find a nice, big monster to cram inside you. Doesn't that sound-"
"N-No!" Ayden shouted, forcing Bailey off. Panting, he took a few stomping steps away, before turning back at Bailey, his cum still wet on her jeans. "I-I really don't want to do that..."
"...Alright." Bailey sighed, an apologetic look forming on her face as she grasped the bottom of her shirt and tossed it off. "Took things a bit too far?" She asked, a slight grin appearing on her lips as the briskly took off her jeans, kicking off her panties as well. "Harper doesn't share her apartment, right?" Bailey asked as her bra fell to the floor, adding to the pile of clothes. "...Ayden, you're staring."
"'Course I am!" Ayden shouted, crossing his arms and stomping into Harper's bedroom. With a huff, he flopped down on the bed, quickly joined by Bailey. Although attempting to appear upset, Ayden couldn't help a smile as Bailey put her head between his thighs, eagerly licking the head of his cock. Accidentally letting out a moan, Ayden reached up, stretching and massaging his throat until his voice shifted back up to Harper's rather than his own mid-moan.
"Aww... I liked hearing you moan like that..." Bailey grumbled, pausing her mouth treatment for a moment. "Oh well." She sighed, gobbling up Ayden's cock, her body heating up as his tip rubbed against the back of her throat. Ayden, in his stolen body's voice, let out a shrill moan as his hand rubbed the back of Bailey's head, gently forcing it down more and more. Just as Ayden was starting to climb towards climax, however, Bailey suddenly stopped, popping her head up. "Babe? Why'd you-"
"Weird to hear 'Harper' call me that... whatever. I... I think you'll like something better..." Bailey assured, glancing at Ayden's member, slick with her saliva. Ayden's confusion quickly shifted to excitement as Bailey, locking eyes with her boyfriend, sat down on his cock, earning a shudder and a gasp as it sunk deep into her asshole. As Bailey prepared to make some comment, Ayden thrusted up, turning her thoughts into a booming moan that resonated with Ayden's. Ayden was forced to grip the sheets, his eyes rolling back into his head as he jackhammered upwards, the sensations of "his" pussy getting fucked by his cock, his cock fucking "his" pussy, and Bailey's perfect asshole mixing together, crushing any modicum of self-control Ayden claimed to have. Any coherent or intelligent thought crumbled away, his stolen mouth spewing out anything but English between the moans growing in volume.
Bailey, although better off than her boyfriend, wasn't hugely more coherent. Something about seeing Ayden reduced to Harper was so... enthralling. Nevermind that the normally monotone, apathetic, almost robotic Harper was moaning, screaming, acting like a hound in heat around Bailey. The constant mental pleasure only served to further spike its physical counterpart, something that a rough pounding was doing in spades. Every single time it seemed that Ayden was done, spent in the midst of yet another thick, creamy load, he'd start thrusting again. Harder, faster, more wild in its movements. Neither was sure how long they spent like that, too exhausted to even check a clock or a phone once Bailey, drenched in sweat, flopped down beside Ayden, both panting and groaning, as exhaustion blanketed their minds...
Plotting Some Revenge
Ayden awoke, completely and utterly confused for a few moments. Bailey lying beside him was completely normal, yet... he wasn't in their apartment's bedroom. His body was wrong too, a moment of panic smacking him as he looked down. But, after a few moments, everything flooded back. With his heart still racing, he snuggled up next to Bailey, closing his eyes as her scent filled his nostrils.
"...You should probably be the little spoon like that, huh?" Bailey murmured, a familiar poke in butt replying to her. "Yesterday was... really nice."
"Mmmhmm." Ayden murmured, kissing the back of Bailey's neck as he nestled his shaft between Bailey's cheeks. "Still would've preferred anyone BUT Harper..."
"...Babe?"
"Hm?"
"Harper like, hates you. What's up with that?"
"Don't be mad." Ayden mumbled in his stolen voice. "So... I didn't know she was a she. And there was that party last semester and... got a bit tipsy. Did a 'haha cup check' on her and... kinda kept searching for the cup for longer than I should've."
"Wait, was that-"
"Yeaaaaaah. I couldn't exactly tell you the truth about my black eye." Ayden sighed. "And if I told campus security, I'd be the one with charges. So... 'I walked into a door'. Sorry for lying."
"...It's fine." Bailey whispered, a grin forming on her face. "Annnnnnd, I've got a perfect idea for an apology..."
______________________________
"Ow! It's... like a perma-wedgie! How do you even wear-"
"It's not a bikini that'll slip off! Right, HARPER?" Bailey grunted, slamming her locker shut and shooting a look at her boyfriend. Despite appearances, her heart was fluttering, "Harper" in the middle-school one piece that still fit her small, cute body. Continually, she had to convince herself that she was downright sexy in her one piece, even if her chest felt like it'd burst out of the tight confines of the suit at any moment. "Keep your dick inside, I don't want to see a bulge!" Bailey hissed, her lips trembling as she leaned down to scold Ayden face-to-face.
"Why are you so nervous? Kim'll be in the pool, it's a simple-"
"We still have NO idea if you can... enter someone when you're already in someone, for starters. Second... stop breaking character, HARPER. Third..." Bailey paused, clearing her throat as she flicked Ayden's nipples through his borrowed suit. "You might drown."
"I know how to swim, ba-aaaaailey." Ayden said, correcting himself mid-word.
"Your... buoyancy is different than you're used to." Bailey sighed, covering her mouth to hide her smile. "I'd really rather not give you CPR, you know." She completely lied, already imagining "accidentally" slipping her tongue in.
"...Fair point. But, you know, we could've tested the first and third thing BEFORE we came here." Ayden rebuffed, rolling his eyes. "And even if it DOES work, there's still a few issues. Like-"
"Like others? Harper, no one swims in the campus rec center this early on Saturdays. Except for Kim, obviously. And you'll go underwater, shoot right on up, easy peezy. I'd say go for whichever hole you'd prefer, but-"
"No, that's not the issue. One: I can't keep my eyes open underwater. Two: Harper and you both were... kinda distracted when I entered you two. Kim won't be able to swim or float or anything."
"...Right." Bailey mumbled, stroking her chin. "Harper, can you... make your... opening stretchy while inside? Without making your dick appear or your voice change, I mean."
"Huh? I..." Ayden trailed off, reaching his stolen hands down to his flat rear. Furrowing his brow, he started gently massaging, nodding as he felt Harper's sub-par flesh begin to change to that stretchy, strange form. "Yeah. Why?"
"Okay. Okay. What IF instead of entering Kim, you make her enter Harper?" Bailey asked, jutting out her jaw as her mind raced. "Just stretch yourself out, sit on her face when she rests at the edge of the pool. That'd work, right?"
"...What then? Wouldn't Kim be in control of Harper? How is that-"
"No, no. I..." Bailey sighed, rubbing the front of her teeth with her tongue. "I don't have first-hand experience from your side, but... can you enter Kim after you pull her inside Harper? Or do you like... melt or something?"
"It's... I swim for a bit in this black, forever void. And then I get this urge to 'suit up' and... then I'm Harper. Or you." Ayden explained. "You're saying that... Kim might be in that void, I enter her, go into a SECOND void, and... Bailey I sound like a fucking lunatic."
"Worth a shot, right?" Bailey asked, shrugging as she headed towards the locker room exit and out to the pool...
Rolling With Bailey's Plan
Ayden exchanged a long look with Bailey as he approached the edge of the pool, his heart racing faster and faster with each step. Kim said something, only the snarky tone penetrating deep enough for Ayden to hear. His hands, in an attempt at stealth, pinched and pulled at and around the bottom of his swimsuit, pretending to constantly adjust it as Ayden prepared his stolen body to accommodate Kim's inside it. Then, after what felt like an eternity to Ayden, he looked down, gulping at Kim's wet, panting body as she leaned on the concrete edge of the pool, everything below her armpits submerged in the water.
Kim was completely clueless about what awaited her, raising an eyebrow as "Harper's" arms suddenly went limp. A condescending comment formed in the back of her throat, aimed at the outdated school swimsuit in front of her. Instead, a loud, piercing scream emerged, brought about by two manly hands rocketing out of "Harper's" slit, pushing the swimsuit out of the way as "Harper" squatted down, panting heavily. Kim could only manage another scream, her body refusing to respond to any of her commands, as the two hands grasped her head and pulled.
Absolute darkness filled Kim's senses as the last remnants of her body entered inside. Her swimsuit and goggles fell out, landing in the pool as Harper's body slumped backwards, convulsing as a lump raced down from her head. Bailey raced over, equal parts ecstatic about hearing Kim's scream and concerned, unsure if it would actually work.
Kim, in an endless void, tried screaming. Yet no sound emerged. Her limbs finally seemed to respond, managing to guide her a few previous feet before something touched her. Something that grasped her wrists, holding her in place. Something that grinned as it forced an erect object up her ass, making her desperately try to swim away. Kim tried to force it off, to get away. It was all to no avail, the object suddenly growing larger and faster as it sped inside her further, bringing about an unwanted, tear-filled orgasm. Kim's heart practically stopped as she felt it. Her hands were free, yet... that something was inside her. Burrowing around, a massive lump racing under her skin. Her arms stopped responding, her hands darting up to her chest as her toes flexed. Her mouth bulged for a moment, her mind still struggling to comprehend anything at all as it shut off.
Harper's eyes shot open suddenly, the natural bright green flickering between a deep brown and a blue as they focused on Bailey's face. Bailey could only watch, her heart pounding, as Harper sat up and looked around, seemingly lost for a few moments. Bailey assumed the worst. Until, of course, "Harper" stared at Bailey's chest for just a bit too long.
"Ayden?" Bailey whispered, still not entirely sure. "Did it work? Are-"
"Uh-huh." Ayden answered, frowning as he flexed his fingers. "It's... weird. Like, I have a tiny bit of 'input delay', if that makes sense."
"Well... it's you, controlling Kim, controlling Harper. Makes sense. I guess." Bailey muttered, brushing some blonde hair from her face as Ayden fidgeted on the floor, something obviously wrong. "Ayden? What's..." Bailey began, pausing as Ayden looked into her eyes, making Bailey's heart skip a beat. The needy look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Ayden let out a flurry of squeaks and moans, his hips bucking as Bailey's hand darted down between his legs, his stolen folds gripping on her fingers with every movement Bailey did. Bailey couldn't stop herself, forcing Ayden to fall silent, muffled by her lips, as she danced her tongue around Ayden's stolen mouth. Ayden's small, dainty hands needed to grip something, anything, finding nothing but the hard concrete below. As Bailey came up for air, Ayden could do little more than pant, drool running down his face as he spasmed and twitched in Bailey's grasp. Tears started to form in Ayden's eyes as he grit his teeth, his heart fluttering as Bailey let him wrap his arms around her neck, loudly screaming as his toes curled, a fountain erupting between his thighs.
"...Is Harper like that, or is that all you as a woman?" Bailey whispered, shuddering as Ayden started kissing and sucking on her neck. "Ayden..."
"Kim. Pulled inside. Entered Kim Too. Needed that." Ayden panted, blushing as Bailey removed her fingers, accompanied by a wet "SCHLICK" sound. He felt his heart race as Bailey shifted her hands under his butt and neck, scooping him up with ease. "P-Put me-"
"Nope. You're tiny, cute, and weigh nothing. Somehow..." Bailey whispered, furrowing her brow. "Babe, Harper's what... 4'8", hundred pounds?"
"I... maybe?"
"Kim's... ignore her height, her boobs probably weigh as much as Harper. And... I'm not calling you fat, but..." Bailey murmured, pursing her lips together as she reentered the locker room. "If we add your weight and Kim's weight to Harper's... I'd be struggling to carry you."
"...So... Kim and I aren't part of the equation?"
"Yeah. I think." Bailey sighed, grunting as she guided Ayden down to a bench. Again, her heart fluttered at the sight. "Harper", sitting there, pressing her thighs together, looking far more meek than she would normally, under Ayden's control. "Goddammit Ayden... you're awakening something in me..."
"Huh?" Ayden murmured, gulping as Bailey sat down beside him.
"L-Look, you've got your ass fetish, I..." She paused, blushing as she turned and stared at Ayden. "...I fucking love you being this... meek girl. You're... so fucking cute and I..." She paused, covering her mouth and lowering her gaze. "The things I want to do to you, Ayden..."
"But I don't want to be in Harper, she-"
"Just a bit longer. Please. I wanna keep carrying you around! I want YOU to be the little spoon! I..." Bailey trailed off, her mind running wild. "...I want to make you moan my name until you can't speak anymore." Bailey finished, gulping as Ayden blushed and turned his head away. "Ayden."
"W-What?" Ayden asked, not turning back to look at Bailey.
"...You think you can 'improve' Harper's body? Like... add some of Kim?"
"...Dunno." Ayden mumbled, his hands rising up to his chest. A quiet squeak snuck out as he brushed against his stolen body's erect nipples, the sweaty swimsuit doing nothing to hide the little protrusions. Closing his eyes, Ayden tried to ignore the rising urge to cum yet again, rubbing his almost non-existent breasts through the suit. The moment he felt the "gummy" feeling on the skin, Ayden pulled, letting out a loud moan as the top of the suit tore, bits of material scattering across the locker room floor.
"W-Wow..." Bailey gasped, a warm feeling spreading through her body as "Harper" attempted to conceal her new, massive bust with her tiny hands. Bailey couldn't help herself, reaching out to touch them, confirming that they weren't fake. Ayden responded to her touch with a quiet moan, blushing as Bailey quickly pulled her hand away. "Sorry, I... hard to believe."
"Babe?" Ayden squeaked, standing up all of a sudden. "I... remember when you bitched about that test?" He asked, his quivering lips turning into a grin...
Playing The Part, Plotting Again
"I guess I've just been a bit overwhelmed lately... thanks." "Kim" sighed, her blue eyes glistening with crocodile tears. "I've really got to write it down, don't I?"
"Yeah, well... just don't let it happen again." The kind custodian sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "A student is one thing, a TA forgetting their combo is... irresponsible." He sighed, his eyes stuck on "Kim's" chest, barely contained within her swimsuit.
"I know..." "Kim" pouted, gripping the top of her suit and pulling it away, "accidentally" giving the custodian a full look at her bare chest. "But it means soooo much to me..." "Kim" moaned, rubbing her thighs together.
"W-Well, if you need anything Kim, just..." The custodian gulped, turning his entire body away to hide his erection. "I-I could even let you in an hour early for your swim, if..."
"That would mean THE WORLD to me!" "Kim" giggled, wrapping her arms around the custodian, making sure to rub her ample chest against his back. She made sure to breathe on the back of his neck, making sure every single hair rose, before sucking on the back of his ear. "Call me." "Kim" whispered, unable to suppress a chuckle as the custodian nodded and took off, eager to "handle" the tightness in his pants.
"You're not a bad actor." Bailey sighed, rolling her eyes as "Kim" retrieved her belongings from her locker. "Although I hate your face."
"Rude." Ayden replied, pressing both hands to his stolen face and rubbing it, shifting it to back to Harper's. "This-" Ayden started, repeating the process with his throat. "-Better?" He finished, having changed Harper's voice back to its natural one.
"Hair." Bailey grunted, pointing at Ayden's scalp.
"Ah, right." Ayden chuckled, rubbing and stretching his scalp, quickly replacing Kim's long, black hair with Harper's shorter, messier red. "There." He said, taking off Kim's swimsuit. "Now I'm a tall, sexy Harper. Happy?"
"...Kinda preferred you all short and cute."
"Yeah, well, I didn't. And we've got Kim's clothes here, not Harper's. So... get over it." Ayden grunted, quickly throwing on Kim's prior outfit, consisting of nothing more than a sports bra and some spats shorts. After quickly unlocking Kim's nearby phone, he handed it to Bailey and slipped on Kim's shoes.
"Shit." Bailey hissed, leaning back against the lockers as she flipped through Kim's phone.
"What? She not logged in?"
"No, she is. She just doesn't have access to grades. Professor Carole does."
"Eh?"
"Yeah. Looks like Kim goes in, puts in the grades first, and then Carole adjusts and tweaks them. Meaning we're screwed for past assignments." Bailey sighed, her eyebrow twitching. "Ugh. Kim's got a schedule for fucking everything in here!" She complained, puffing up her cheeks as Ayden stood back up, testing his sneakers. "God... can't you put Harper's boobs instead?"
"No, Kim's top won't-"
"THEN DO SOME MIDDLE GROUND!"
"Can't. It's either mine, Harper's, or Kim's." Ayden explained, feeling slightly nervous at Bailey's glare. "Is it really a problem?"
"Of COURSE it is! My boyfriend's b-bigger than me!" Bailey stuttered, concealing her sweater-clad chest.
"Oh. Well... you're bigger where it matters." Ayden assured, pointing to Bailey's ass with a stupid grin on his face. Bailey, equal parts embarrassed and flattered, turned her back. Ayden, of course, accepted the "invite", cupping Bailey's sweatpants-clad cheeks in his hands and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Hey..." Ayden whispered, kissing Bailey's ear. "Really want Kim's boobs? I'll pull you in anytime..."
"...Can't do stuff with you then."
"R-Right." Ayden stammered, a warm, pleasant feeling spreading through his stolen bodies. "Um..."
"What?" Bailey asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What if I pull you in and... 'suit you up', but then leave?" Ayden asked, getting Bailey to bring a hand to her chin and rub it. "I could probably 'massage' you... Harper's body, I mean, and customize it. You could be you, but... Kim's boobs. Harper's hair? Whatever you want." Ayden said, clearing his throat. "But uh... definitely keeping this." He mumbled, intensifying his ass groping and earning a sigh from Bailey.
"...Let's try it." Bailey muttered, an idea popping into her head. "Wait, Professor Carole..."
"What about..." Ayden began to ask, it suddenly clicking. "That... that's a way to change your grade."
"Yeah." Bailey agreed, nodding her head. "Shower stall? Pull me in there?" She asked, getting a few rapid pecks on her ear for an answer...
Bringing Bailey "Into The Fold"
"Why'd we have to come in here?" Ayden whispered, slightly disappointed to be stripping already. "You said-"
"I said no one would be swimming when we first got here. No idea when someone might show up NOW!" Bailey hissed, peeking out from the shower curtain. "Worst case, they think we're really enjoying the shower."
"...Sure. So, the plan-"
"You pull me in, I 'suit up' inside Kim. Who's inside Harper. Then, you leave, I start messaging Professor Carole, we find her, you go in her, I get an 'A', and... I guess that's it." Bailey sighed, snapping the curtain shut and spinning around to face Ayden. Slightly nervous, she walked over, rubbing her forearm. "So... how's this work? I don't have to strip, right? My clothes..."
"Yeah, they'll come out when you come in." Ayden answered, caressing Bailey's cheek. As her gray eyes blinked, Ayden planted a kiss on her lips, the two moaning as their tongues intertwined. Almost subconsciously, Ayden forced Bailey's back against the shower wall, humping his hips as Bailey's leg rose, kept upright by Ayden's other hand squeezing and rubbing her rear. "Sure you don't wanna strip now?" Ayden whispered, grinning at how red Bailey's face quickly turned.
"J-Just pull me in." Bailey croaked, wincing as Ayden's finger found her hole, rubbing and circling it through her sweatpants. "Ayden, stooooop..."
"Why? Don't you-"
"I-If I'm doing any... lesbian stuff, I'm... taking the lead." Bailey stammered, gripping Ayden's neck and forcing him back, pushing him against the opposite shower wall. "I-I want a... big guy or a... smaller girl. Got it?" She asked, far more cute than authoritative.
"I'll give you a big guy then." Ayden whispered, chuckling as his arms suddenly went limp. Bailey raised an eyebrow, attempting to not look turned on and failing miserably. Her attempt completely shattered as two, familiar, muscular hands grabbing the front of her groin, massaging her through the bottom of the swimsuit, and the sweatpants covering that. As Bailey's mouth curled into a hesitant moan, she felt herself pulled, hip-first, towards Ayden. A quick, soft kiss on her forehead was the last thing she felt before, in an instant, everything went dark.
Bailey was... inquisitive, if anything. Anything she attempted to say wouldn't come out, as if she was muted. It was pitch black, not just in sight, but... every sense. Somehow, she could taste, smell, hear, feel the absence of everything, a complete sensory deprivation. Yet... something was urging her upwards. Higher and higher, she blindly swam, the urge flipping like a switch to another one. She recalled what Ayden had told her, about the 'suiting up' and realized what he meant. Her arms were MEANT to be here. Her legs were MEANT to be here. Her head was MEANT to push upwards.
Bailey gasped, the sudden brightness making her blink. It was odd. Like she was wearing a latex glove over her entire body. And another one over that. Whenever she'd blink, breathe, move any bit of her body, it'd take... a bit. Not terrible, by any means. Hardly even noticeable, maybe... a millisecond or two more than normal. Enough to he noticeable nonetheless.
"...Ayden?" Bailey croaked, flinching at the sound of Harper's voice. "That's... weird." Bailey muttered, looking down between her legs. At some point, probably when she was pulled inside, she'd slid down to the floor. "Ayden? You gonna leave? Or... did you already?" Bailey did not receive a reply. Nervousness kicked in, the possibility that something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong. Bailey had no one to call, to contact, to ask for help. Tears started to well up, Bailey made fruitless attempts to go back to the void, her lip began to quiver. "A-Ayden, please..." Bailey whined.
"Gimme a sec." A familiar voice whispered. Bailey gasped and spun around, trying to find the source, hope building up and crumbling her earlier worry. "Inside. Inside Kim, I mean. I'm uh... actually right behind you in here."
"Are you trapped?! Ayden, what-"
"Nah. Just had an idea." Ayden interrupted, Bailey's hands suddenly shooting to her ass, out of her control. Bailey let out an unconscious moan as they started to rub, harder and harder, faster and faster, until her ass, her own ass, suddenly ballooned, expanding and widening. "There we go! I can take control whenever I want!"
"G-Good. But-" Bailey started, suddenly letting out a moan, her eyes widening as she felt a familiar thickness slam into her from behind. Her hips slammed back and forth, the invisible thrusting forcing her to. Yet... whenever she looked back, there was nothing. And... it didn't feel like there was anything there, exactly.
"Whoa! I can puppet you!" Ayden shouted inside Bailey, her mouth suddenly forced open, an invisible finger prying her lips apart. Bailey could only moan, her tongue darting and circling around an invisible partner. "Yup. Not leaving!" Ayden declared, making Bailey yelp as he slapped her ass on the inside, squeezing it together as he shot a load. Bailey, oddly aroused by the situation, shook her legs, crossing her eyes from the hot semen shooting inside her actual body, the sensation shared, and multiplied, with Kim's body, and Harper's transformed one, wrapped around that.
"B-Behave..." Bailey panted, shuddering as Ayden started kissing and sucking on every inch of her body. Resisting the pleasure, Bailey struggled to stand up, opting to, with some minor difficulty, put her sweatpants and Kim's sports bra on, covering it with her own sweater. As Ayden started slamming away at her anus again, Bailey had to lean against the wall, biting down on the back of her hand as she pleasure slammed into her. As she did, however, her other hand was puppeted, changing her face, hair, and throat, forcing "Harper's" moans and whimpers to change to "Kim's", despite Bailey's attempts at protest.
"Think about it. If you start moaning and cumming in public, Kim'll take the blame. Not Harper's fake, sexy twin, not you." Ayden whispered, shooting another hot load of man magma deep inside Bailey's asshole. "Call Professor Carole. Moan down the mic. Do it."
Bailey simply nodded, attempting to catch her breath as she grabbed Kim's phone off the floor. "Testing, test... just making sure." Bailey whispered, her voice a perfect match to Kim's. Her eyes hazy, she quickly unlocked the phone with Kim's copied fingerprint, swiping through to the contacts. A scowl formed at "Carole", missing any honorific that Kim would've insisted Bailey use for any and every conversation with the woman. "Double fucking standard..." Bailey grumbled, pressing the call button and bringing the phone up to her ear.
One ring. A second ring. A skipped heartbeat. The very real possibility she wouldn't pick up setting in. A third ring. The thought that she might not listen to her voicemail. A fourth ring. The possibility that Kim, somehow, knew two Caroles. That 'Professor Carole' was in her contacts, further down than Bailey swiped.
"...Kim? You're breathing rather heavily." A voice answered, causing Bailey to gasp, having been far too concerned to even hear the click indicating that the call was answered. "Hello? This is Kim, is it not?"
"Y-Yes! My apologies, I just finished a workout and... I need to discuss the grading of some assignments. In person, preferably." Ayden answered, seizing control to help circumvent Bailey's inability to think at the moment. "Would you be available in your office today? I know it's a Saturday, but..."
"...No, I'm afraid. I'm working from home today." Carole sighed. "Upstairs in my study. Use your key." She said, hanging up suddenly.
Bailey and Ayden stood there in silence for a few moments. Thoughts swirled. A first-name basis was least concern. Why, why did Kim have a spare key for Carole's house?! The silence continued as Bailey gathered up the rest of her and Kim's things. Even when leaving, walking on the sidewalk, both remained silent. Ayden remained unmoving, not provoking Bailey on the inside. Bailey simply walked, checking Kim's directions she'd put into her own phone "in case of intoxication, memory loss, or a Samaritan gaining access to this device". Silently, Bailey turned the key to Kim's apartment, tossing everything to the side as she took a deep breath.
"THEY'RE FUCKING, RIGHT?!" Bailey bellowed, running her fingers through the long, black hair she possessed. "I'M NOT CRAZY, RIGHT?!"
"I mean... I didn't want to say anything." Ayden muttered. "But it's definitely poss... fridge. Look at the fridge!"
"Fridge? What are..." Bailey began to ask, falling silent as she stomped over to the little kitchen area. She reached up and cupped her mouth, her gray eyes wide as she scanned over picture after picture, poem after poem, signed notes from Carole, and... conveniently, a written-out set of directions to "Her House". The Her was obvious. Bailey didn't even have to ask, quickly snapping a picture before checking Kim's gallery.
"'Nothing Suspicious' HAS to be it!" Ayden shouted, puppeting the hand to open the folder. Nothing. Pictures of worksheets, answer keys, nothing suspicious at all. Except... every so often, there was an unlabeled, zipped folder. Ayden clicked without hesitation, proven correct as the selfie of Carole, wearing nothing but a lacy bra, popped up. "They're fucking."
"Which means... we're fucking." Bailey mumbled with a gulp. "But... I guess... this is blackmail for my grade." She said, a sinister grin forming on her stolen face. With a devious chuckle, Bailey stormed into Kim's room, eying up her wardrobe with a smirk...
"Visiting" Professor Carole
"Ayden! Stop!" Bailey hissed, suppressing a moan as, inside, Ayden started fingering her from behind. "Carole-"
"Gotta make us look a little excited, don't we?" Ayden whispered, taking control over Harper's transformed mouth, and only her mouth, as he toyed with Bailey's clit inside. Ayden had to bite his lip, both inside and out, a gust of wind blowing up Kim's "borrowed" skirt and giving Harper's transformed folds some much-needed cool air. "No panties was a great choice..." Ayden moaned, forcing Bailey to ring the doorbell before "passing the reins" back to her.
"Don't. Do. That." Bailey hissed, trying to regain her composure as she reached into Kim's stolen purse and grabbing Kim's keys. "She said to let ourselves in, remember?" She hissed, letting out a squeak as she tried jamming in a key. "Ayden! Stop..." She tried to protest, falling forward onto the door as Ayden slammed his dick into her ass. "Mmmng... AYDEN!" Kim shouted, gasping as she managed to unlock the door.
"Right upstairs, remember?" Ayden whispered, right into Bailey's actual ear as he held Bailey's hips in place, ensuring he could pound her easier. Bailey struggled to stumble inside, closing the door behind her before falling to the floor. Her eyes remained locked on the stairwell, the thrill and fear of being discovered only spiking the pleasure. Biting her lip, Bailey started moving along with Ayden's inside movements, her braless, borrowed breasts swaying and bouncing as she did. The carpet was torn up, clumps of fabric trapped in Bailey's fingertips as Ayden shot his load inside her. "I'll make sure you can't fake it if Carole goes down on us." Ayden promised, grinning inside as Bailey stood up on shaky legs, her nectar running down her upper thighs.
"My grade comes first." Bailey panted, brushing some sweaty strands of black hair from her eyes. Adjusting her borrowed blouse, Bailey crept up the stairs, more than a little excited at Ayden's promise. Gulping, Bailey reached a door, knocking on it with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
"You don't have to knock, you know." A familiar voice answered. Bailey gulped and turned the knob, walking into the room. Carole was sitting at a desk, her usual glasses on, grading some papers. "Was ringing the doorbell your attempt at a joke?" Carole asked, not bothering to look up from her desk.
"...Yeah." Bailey answered, quietly closing the door behind her. "I wanted to discuss-"
"What are you wearing?" Carole interrupted, her eyebrows raised. "...I see you neglected a bra today." She sighed, setting her glasses down on her desk. "And... you seem... different."
"H-How so?"
"Colored contacts are... rather tacky, for starters. And... your skirt emphasizes your..." Carole paused, making a curved gesture in the air with her hand. "Is this an attempt to seduce me?" She asked, standing up suddenly. As Bailey opened her mouth, unsure of what she would even say, Carole cleared her throat. "Whose grade are you after? Flunking that... idiot with the hair dye?"
"Um..." Bailey mumbled, finding herself, courtesy of Ayden, unable to move as Carole stepped over, emphasizing her hips with every step. Bailey's heart raced along with her mind as Carole caressed Bailey's chin, forcing her to look up as Carole brought her lips down. As Carole's tongue sunk in, Bailey's eyes widened, shocked at what she felt.
"Uh... I'm not crazy, right? She has two tongues, right?!" Ayden blurted out inside, sharing the odd sensation along with Bailey. Bailey was lost for words, unable to answer even if she could, doing little more than blink as Carole abruptly pulled back, a sly grin on her beautiful face.
"Wh-What was that?" Bailey murmured, completely forgetting that she should've known in the heat of the moment.
"Playing dumb, are we? Ah... I'll humor you." Carole cooed, sticking her bright red tongue out, showing that, at the end of it, it was split. Further still, Carole moved each side independently, letting out a quiet giggle at "Kim's" bewildered face. "Kim, I... used to be a... rebel, shall we say. And you, my little assistant... you kindle those rebellious embers still in me."
"The tongue? That-"
"A piercing. One that... didn't heal correctly. And..." Carole paused, deeply inhaling through her nose. "A former... lover of mine rather liked it like this." She whispered, bringing in her lips for another sensual, yet odd, kiss. This time, however, Ayden gripped Bailey's actual tongue with his fingers, forcing Bailey to reciprocate Carole's kiss. "...Kim." Carole whispered, coming up for air.
"Y-Yes?" Bailey stammered, gulping as Carole caressed her face once more.
"Who are you? Really?" Carole asked, an oddly sweet smile on her face. "We both know you're not Kim."
"I-I-"
"The real Kim would've walked right on in, sitting on my desk, begging for attention, commenting on my penmanship. Nevermind your appearance." Carole whispered, licking her lips as she took a deep, long inhale of Bailey's hair. "You smell... far too sweet as well. Her secret twin, perhaps?"
"And if I'm not Kim?" Bailey asked, flinching as Carole took another deep sniff of Bailey's hair and neck. "I know you and Kim have a relationship, I know about your tongue, I..."
"You think anyone will believe you? Dear, I don't let my hair down in public." Carole whispered, making Bailey tremble as she licked her ear, sticking her odd split tongue inside. "This image I've built up, over decades, won't crumble so easily."
"Are you sure about that?" Ayden asked, taking control for a moment. "I think you'll do whatever we want." He said, two hands suddenly shooting out of Kim's skirt and grabbing Carole's thigh. Carole managed to get out a confused grunt before getting pulled inside, disappearing with a "PLOP", her clothes falling into a pile on the floor as Bailey felt her senses get yanked away.
Carole was at a loss, floating in the void. Yet... fascination was the predominant emotion. Not fear, not terror, not confusion. Her emotion only increased as a pair appeared out of nowhere, "swimming" over to her. She recognized one, a certain student Kim had a grudge for. The other... Carole had no idea. A handsome man, yet to Carole, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Carole didn't resist when the male member of the duo swam behind her, stroking and rubbing her rear entrance. It felt wonderful, of course, yet Carole had a complaint. If she could've voiced it, she would've asked for a pen and a pad of paper to record her observations. Her fascination increased, massively, as she felt her anus expand rapidly, the man holding it open. A flurry of questions formed inside her as... Bailey, yes, that was her name, swam inside her extended opening. Carole expected pain, yet couldn't help grinning, the sensation rivaling no other in pleasure. When... Bailey's hips finally squeezed through, Carole's eyes crossed, her pussy throbbing with glee as the man plugged her hole with his shaft. Floating in the void, Carole's body convulsed and shook, the pumping of the man's cock stopping, replaced by a fervent pulsing. Carole could feel her mind slipping away as it erupted inside her, any thoughts replaced by the dark surrounding her.
Bailey's eyes shot open, moaning and shaking as something sped down her body. Her hips bucked as it slid out. Yet... it didn't appear. Bailey was confused for a moment, realizing what was happening as it sped down yet again. She managed to catch a glimpse of a lump racing down her stomach, forcing her to loudly moan as it reached her groin. Her eyes crossed, her back arching as her anus was pushed apart, a speeding bullet in the shape of Ayden launching out, forcing an earthquake of an orgasm on Bailey's stolen body.
"Ahhh... good to be me again!" Ayden chuckled, helping Bailey up from the writhing mass she was on the floor. Bailey was panting, a needy look in her eye, her mouth salivating as she locked onto her boyfriend's twitching member. "Bailey... we gotta change your grade, remember?" Ayden teased, walking over to Carole's desk, leaving Bailey alone, her body craving his. "Let's see, her laptop-"
"Ayden... please." Bailey croaked, her body quivering. "Don't leave me like this..."
"Guess we aren't in no rush..." Ayden sighed, feigning disappointment as he returned to his needy, horny girlfriend. As she puckered her lips for a kiss, Ayden grasped her tongue with his lips. Gently, he "massaged" her tongue with his mouth, focusing on it. Bailey was amazed as it changed, the end splitting in two after a few moments. "Hold on, few more things." Ayden whispered, letting Bailey squirm her new tongue around in the air. Refusing to explain, he brought his hands to her face, roughly massaging that, her throat, and her scalp. "THERE we go!" Ayden exclaimed, admiring his handiwork.
"What did..." Bailey started, relieved, at least, to hear her own voice. Yet... there was red hair drifting down across her face. "Ayden, what-"
"Thought you'd look hot as a redhead. Your face and voice is all yours." Ayden explained, letting out a grunt as he hooked his hands under Bailey's legs and scooped her up. Bailey's heart started to race, burying her face into Ayden's bare shoulder, letting him carry her into the bedroom across the hall. She couldn't help but feel excited as Ayden practically threw her onto the bed, mounting her without bothering to tear off her stolen clothes. "We'll change your grade... tomorrow. 'Cause you're not going anywhere until we're done."
"O-Okay." Bailey stammered, her chest tightening as Ayden slid his hand up her thigh, rubbing it with his thumb. As Ayden planted a kiss on her lips, she shut her eyes, a satisfied grin forming as his other hand grasped hers, locking his fingers with hers. Bailey attempted to use her new, borrowed tongue, yet found herself unable to focus as Ayden pressed his tip against her wet, trembling opening. A moan escaped through her nose, her feet flinching, as Ayden slowly thrust inside, her insides gripping his shaft tight enough to almost hurt.
"Fuck. No condom." Ayden whispered suddenly, starting to pull out. As he did, however, a pair of legs pulled him back in, Bailey taking a deep breath as he did. "Bailey, I-"
"Harper's problem, not mine." Bailey whispered, a sinister grin breaking out on her face.
"...Fair enough." Ayden sighed, slamming his cock, full-force, into Bailey. As she opened her mouth to moan, Ayden sealed it with his lips, prodding and caressing her tongue with his. Ayden's hand, the one not locked with Bailey's, slid upwards, under Kim's stolen blouse, handling her bouncing, modified breasts as he continued slamming against her depths. Bailey, unable to control herself, took her other arm and coiled it around Ayden's neck, desperate to hold him as close as possible, her legs helping the process. "Babe!" Ayden shouted suddenly, his cock twitching and throbbing. "Y-You sure?!"
"Mmmhmm!" Bailey murmured, intensifying her hold as she forced her tongue back into Ayden's mouth. As his cock hardened, the tip rubbing against her cervix, Bailey bit down on his lip, unable to stop her toes from curling, her back from arching, as he shot his load, all but guaranteeing Harper's future pregnancy.
"...Babe... that was amazing..." Ayden panted, slumping down, his softening cock still twitching inside Bailey's stolen, transformed body.
"My... grade... can... probably... wait..." Bailey panted, her body still on a post-orgasm high. "One... more?"
"...Bailey... wait. Does Carole live alone?" Ayden asked, positive he just heard a car pull into the driveway...
1
11.6K
16
2
Bryce seeks revenge against the girl who betrayed him, using his magical spell book to possess her body and use it to take the most ironic revenge. All characters are 18+
Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends.
“There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce.
Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic.
“Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends.
“Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat.
“Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.”
Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me in.”
“Man, you should have just told us,” Oliver said. “You know we’ve got your back. She’s totally got it coming. So, when do we strike?”
Bryce poked at his lunch. “Yeah...that’s the thing...The, uh...history project that I want to do is kind of...a solo mission.”
“What?” Oliver said, looking crestfallen.
Miguel leaned across the table. “Is this because we saw each other’s dicks? You’re not feeling weird about that, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Bryce said. He’d watched the videos of what they did to Finn more than a few times. “It’s just, this spe- history project is the perfect mix of karmic retribution and ironic justice, but it only works with one person. I’m sorry.”
Oliver and Miguel exchanged glances.
“So...could we do solo history projects, too?”
“I mean, it would only be fair,” Miguel added.
Bryce tensed. Alice was getting up from her table. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, watching her wipe her mouth on a napkin, her lipstick leaving a rosy pink smear on the thin paper. Perfect. “Wait here,” he said, grabbing his half-eaten lunch and weaving through the crowded cafeteria, following her to the garbage cans. She dropped her trash into one and turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! I’m sor-” she started to say, but stopped when she realized it was him. Her warm, expressive brown eyes narrowed. “What do you want, pervert?” She said it loud enough that her gang of girlfriends turned to look at Bryce. His cutting comeback died on his lips, his courage withering under their intense, judgmental stares.
“Just throwing my trash away,” he muttered, stepping around her to get to the cans. His face hot and pulse racing, he listened to them walk away, laughing and making cruel remarks. Bitches.
He looked down into the half-full trash bin, for a moment seeing nothing except bits of pizza and hamburgers and french fries. He began to panic. People would notice if he stood there too long. Where was it?
A smear of pink caught his eye and he reached in, snatching up the crumpled napkin. Dropping the remains of his lunch, he hurried back to his friends, falling onto his seat with a sigh of relief.
“Did you get it?” Miguel asked.
Bryce showed them the used napkin, then folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his pocket.
“So, I know you said this was a solo project,” Oliver said, “but you can still tell us what you have planned, right?”
Bryce grinned and the three of them leaned close.
~~~*~
Lying in bed, waiting for his parents to fall asleep, was the most intensely boring hour of Bryce’s life. He passed the time by renewing his fury toward Alice, reminding himself of the depth of her betrayal.
They had been going out for more than a year, which was about eight months longer than any of his previous relationships. He had his license, so they went to movies and out to dinner, and sometimes they just parked near the woods and made out, but they hadn’t yet gone all the way. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming pushy, but that night—their last date, as it would happen to be—she asked him if he had protection.
He did, and he asked if she was sure. She said she was. He asked if she had ever done it before. He still remembered the way she blushed as she shook her head. Then she asked him the same.
“You should have told her no,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead of a safe lie, he had given her a truth about himself that he had never shared with anyone. He trusted her with the most secret part of himself, a part he was still trying to understand and accept. He confessed that he’d been with a girl before. And a guy. Not at the same time, of course. He might be attracted to both men and women, but he promised to be faithful only to her.
He could tell she was in shock. He offered to drive her home and she agreed that would be best. Before they reached her driveway, he knew it was over. Being rejected hurt, but deep down, he wasn’t surprised. If only that had been the end of it.
The next day at school, he was nervous about seeing her in class. Would she say anything? As it turned out, she said plenty, but not at school. Walking through the halls, it felt like everyone was staring at him, snickers and whispers flying behind his back. It was Oliver who finally showed him the video she had made, telling the entire world how her boyfriend turned out to be a sexual deviant who would fuck anything, guys and girls, and probably farm animals if he could catch them.
Bryce had wanted to die. If it wasn’t for his friends, who never wavered from his side for a moment, who knows what he might have done.
Finally, it was after midnight, the house silent. Bryce got out of bed and turned on his desk lamp, opening his spell book and taking the crumpled napkin out of his pocket. Using a marker and a feather-light touch to keep from ripping the fragile paper, he copied down the complex spell equation, sweat beading his brow as he concentrated. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he copied something wrong, but the book insinuated that it would be bad, and not just in the oops, it didn’t work sort of way.
He finished and double-checked the incomprehensible string of symbols, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pocket knife. He wished his friends were there, but it seemed cruel to exclude them from the spell, and then ask them to babysit his body while his soul was busy elsewhere. He felt pretty safe in his room, but there was always the remote possibility of his parents checking on him and finding him unresponsive. He could just imagine how that would freak them out.
Bryce considered waiting, but he knew he was worried about nothing. And he had let Alice get away with what she had done for far too long. His voice low, he read the quantum incantation, as Oliver had begun calling it, feeling the subatomic world begin to resonate around him, a low-level hum that pressed against his ear drums, making them itch. As he reached the final syllables, he pressed the point of his knife into the pad of his thumb, a large, dark bead of blood welling up. Bryce squeezed his thumb, holding his breath as the drop of blood fell upon the napkin, a bright red stain spreading across the thin paper.
His lamp flickered and he stood, the room spinning around him. Taking a staggering step, he fell heavily upon his bed, the room going dark.
Bryce’s eyes snapped open, the world unfocused, but even blurry, he could tell he wasn’t in his room anymore. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing, and sat up, looking around at the stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, the flowered comforter spread over him, the posters of kpop bands on the walls. He reached down to push the comforter aside and froze, the hand before him slender and delicate, the nails painted glittery pink. He wiggled his fingers, watching that feminine hand respond.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he whispered, the hushed voice softer, higher than his own. He climbed out of bed and rushed over to the closet door, standing before the floor-length mirror, his heart racing. No, not his heart, her heart. He stared out of Alice’s brown eyes, reaching up to run his fingers back through her shoulder-length blonde hair. He touched the thin straps of her silky nightgown, shifting his weight to feel the material slide against her skin. This was amazing.
Bryce pulled the front of the nightgown down, exposing Alice’s bare breasts, her nipples peaking in the chill air, and he smirked as he cupped one firm mound, kneading the solid flesh.
What the fuck is going on?
Bryce jumped and whirled around, her hair falling across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and scanned the room, but it was dark, quiet, and empty.
I must be dreaming. It had a hollow, distant quality, but Bryce could still recognize Alice’s voice, echoing like an errant thought in his head. Am I sleepwalking? I’ve never sleepwalked before.
The book hadn’t said anything about her being aware while he was doing this. He briefly considered aborting his mission and just lying back down until the spell wore off, but she didn’t seem aware of him, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop him. She was just a spectator, along for the ride. He smirked again and headed for the kitchen.
This is so weird, Alice said as he walked down the hall. He had only been in her house a few times, but he remembered the layout pretty well. He stepped into the kitchen, the stone tile floor cold against her bare feet, and opened the fridge. Oh, God, am I sleep-eating? Is this why I gained five pounds this month?
Stifling a chuckle, Bryce searched the shelves and drawers, pulling out a foot-long sausage over an inch in diameter and an ear of fresh corn that was almost two inches at its widest point.
Eww, put that back, Alice said. If you have to eat something, grab a yogurt, you fatass.
Bryce headed back to her room, absently wondering if she always talked to herself like that. Low self-esteem might explain a lot. Of course, it didn’t excuse anything. He closed her door and locked it, then sat down at her laptop. She had once told him that her password was the name of her first dog, so he confidently typed ‘buttercup’ into the entry field and got to work setting up her webcam to record.
Now what am I doing? she asked. Is this going to be one of those food-porn videos of me eating gross stuff?
He was tempted to tell her that she was getting warmer, but he kept his mouth shut. He was looking forward to the moment when she figured it out for herself and he didn’t want to spoil it. Once the webcam was up and recording, he looked straight at it and began to speak. It was surreal hearing his words in her voice, but he didn’t let that distract him from what he wanted to say.
“Hello, my name is Alice Newman and I am a Senior at Riverbend High School,” he said.
What am I doing? Stop that! Alice said as Bryce proceeded to dox her, stating her birth date and home address. He wanted to give out her social security number, but he didn’t know it and he didn’t feel like looking for her card. That wasn’t really the point of this, just an added benefit.
“About a year ago, I posted a video about my ex-boyfriend, saying terrible things about him because I was confused and jealous.”
No, I wasn’t. What the hell is this?
“I was wrong to say those things, because I really hurt someone that I cared about, and this video is my penance. I know I can’t take back the things I said, but I hope this proves how sorry I truly am.”
But I’m not sorry! That perv got what he deserved!
Any second thoughts or doubts Bryce might have had evaporated like rain in the desert. He slid the chair back from the camera, waiting for the auto-focus to catch up, and then he eased the strap of her nightie down off one shoulder.
“The truth is,” Bryce said as he did the same to the other strap, “my boyfriend wasn’t the pervert. I am. I’m a naughty girl who likes showing off her tits.”
Don’t you fucking dare! Alice screamed. Bryce just smiled at the camera and slid the silky nightgown down over her creamy breasts, her dark nipples hard. He teased the pebbled flesh, a soft moan escaping her lips. Wake up, wake up! Wake the fuck up! She sounded absolutely panicked.
“Do you like my titties?” Bryce asked the camera. “I know they’re a little small, but the boys never seem to mind.” He slowly stood up, letting the nightgown slink down her body and fall to the floor, revealing her pink cotton panties, the crotch already dark with moisture. “Oh, dear, I’m such a bad girl. I’ve gone and made my panties all damp.”
Bryce was really getting into it, her skin hot, her heart racing as he slid her hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her tight, wet curls, the slick, swollen flesh of her pussy lips. He slipped a finger into her wet heat and rubbed against her clit, the sensation making her knees wobble.
He pulled his hand free, holding his slick, shiny finger out for the camera, then he slowly brought it up to his lips, giving the camera a wicked smile before licking up her juices.
“If anyone wants a taste, I’ll spread any time,” Bryce said, shoving her panties down. “Oops, looks like I’m not a natural blonde!” He played with her dark, neatly trimmed bush for a minute, then sank back down into the chair. He adjusted the camera to point down at her lap, and then he leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on her desk, her legs spread wide. The camera had great resolution, her pink flesh glistening as her clit swelled.
Inside his head, Alice made wounded-animal noises, utterly humiliated. But Bryce wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the sausage that he’d found in the fridge and reached down between her legs, trailing the rounded tip down her slick crease.
Don’t, please, Alice begged. I’m a virgin!
Bryce looked into the camera. “I tell people that I’m a virgin, but I’m really a dirty whore who loves to have her pussy stuffed. I’ll fuck anything, as long as it fits.” He pressed the sausage between her lips, finding her hole and forcing it in. He felt her hymen tear, a slight flash of pain and a lingering discomfort as her tight tunnel stretched around the solid length of meat. He imagined this wasn’t very sanitary, but honestly, he didn’t care.
“Oh, that feels so good,” he moaned in her voice, one hand kneading her breast as the other thrust the sausage into her hot box again and again, as deep as it would go. He felt the pleasure building within her, a slow simmering that made him ache for more. He wanted it harder, faster...and bigger.
Bryce pulled out the sausage and set it aside, her pussy clenching in anticipation as he picked up the ear of corn, already husked and washed. He slid it along her slit, the bumpy kernels rubbing against her clit and making him pant and moan.
“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, placing the tapered tip against her opening. “I like ‘em big and hard. Oh, fuck yes!” He cried out in pleasure as he pushed on the ear of corn, sliding it into her. It was so tight, he had to twist it from side to side, coating the surface of the corn with her hot, slick juices as he worked it deep. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he exclaimed, her muscles clenching as waves of orgasm shuddered through her, leaving Bryce breathless and light-headed.
No more, Alice sobbed, pleading.
Bryce reached over and picked up the sausage again, still warm and slick.
“This naughty girl is never satisfied by just one,” he said. Holding the corn in place with one hand, he reached between her legs, leaning further back as he pressed the tip of the sausage against her puckered asshole. “Oh, yeah, fuck me in the ass! I like it in my ass!”
He pushed the sausage into her, deeper and deeper, until only a few inches of that foot-long wiener protruded from her asshole. Feet still braced against the edge of the desk, he began to fuck her pussy hard with the ear of corn, the wet, sucking sounds loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and echoed through the laptop speakers. He let go of the sausage with her other hand and dug her fingers into her wet mound, rubbing hard against her clit.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried, her muscles tensing as the throbbing pleasure neared a crescendo. “I’m cumming!” He pounded her quivering pussy until he thought she was going to pass out, the sausage sliding out of her gaping asshole as her body bucked and shuddered. Finally, trembling and exhausted, he had to call it quits. His time owning her body was almost up, and he still had work to do.
Bryce shut off the recording and loaded up her editing software, snipping the video here and there, replaying her orgasms in slow-motion, zooming in as the ear of corn made its first deep penetration, and adding a quick intro.
“Perfect,” he murmured, opening a browser window and logging into her video-sharing account. This video went against all of the site’s rules and would be flagged and reported, it would be taken down and her account suspended, but not before plenty of people had a chance to download it and spread it around to other, less scrupulous sites. Like they tried to warn kids these days, anything put online stays there forever.
Please, don’t do this, Alice said in the back of his head. Wake up before you ruin my life.
“My dear Alice, haven’t you realized by now, ruining your life is the whole point,” he said, not caring if she realized what was happening. Once the spell faded, she wouldn’t remember. “Why should anyone give a shit about your feelings when you have no regard for the feelings of others? You brought this on yourself.”
Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself! Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what this is?
Bryce rolled his eyes and hit upload, watching the little bar fill until it read 100%. He clicked on her stats page and watched the hit counter. It stayed at 0 for all of thirty seconds, and within a minute, it was into the thousands.
“And there we are,” Bryce said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “Now the whole world knows what a dirty little slut you are. How does it feel, Alice?” He could hear her sobbing in the back of his mind. He could also feel his hold on her slipping. His time was up. In one last, vindictive act, he picked up the ear of corn from where it had fallen, the kernels glistening as her juices ran down the cob, and he shoved it into her mouth, tasting her tangy flavor as the spell faded.
Bryce jerked wake, his heart pounding and his hard cock tenting the front of his pajamas. He stared up at his ceiling, his room lit by his desk lamp. Had that actually happened, or was he just dreaming? He grabbed his phone off the corner of his desk and searched for Alice’s username. Sure enough, her newest video began to play, and his hard-on strained to escape the confines of his pants. He fished it out and jerked off, cumming not once, but twice before the video finished playing.
Panting, he cleaned up and turned out the light.
~~~*~
Monday morning, Bryce waited at Miguel’s locker, practically dancing with excitement. He hadn’t dared send them a link to the video—passing around pornography would get him expelled, or maybe even arrested, so he couldn’t wait to tell him and Oliver about the success of his history project.
Apparently, they felt the same way. The first words out of Oliver’s mouth were, “So, how did it go?” In hushed tones, he began telling them all about the spell, but his story was interrupted by a cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls. They looked down the hall as Alice hurried past a group of guys making lewd noises and rude gestures, her face beet red and streaked with tears.
“Ohh, perfecto, mi amigo,” Miguel said, dully impressed. “So, when do I get a turn with the book?”
“Excuse me?” Bryce said, arching an eyebrow.
“He’s right,” Oliver chimed in. “You said we could do solo projects. But I’m pretty sure you said I could go next.”
“He did not—”
“Guys, not now,” Bryce said. The principal had emerged from the front office, his large, imposing frame towering over the students. Rumor was that he used to play football, that he was going to go pro, and then an injury ended that. He did walk with a slight limp, so it could have been true.
“Miss Newman,” the principal called down the hall, his deep voice seeming to rattle Bryce to the bone. She looked up, her red face going white as a sheet. “My office. Now.”
“Boy, is she gonna get it,” Oliver said under his breath.
“She already did,” Miguel said with a snicker. “Bryce gave it to her good.”
They watched as Alice slunk past them. For a moment, she glanced up and Bryce met her eyes. He smirked and she looked away. One more history project in the books. Now, how to decide who got to go next?
Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends.
“There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce.
Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic.
“Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends.
“Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat.
“Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.”
Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me in.”
“Man, you should have just told us,” Oliver said. “You know we’ve got your back. She’s totally got it coming. So, when do we strike?”
Bryce poked at his lunch. “Yeah...that’s the thing...The, uh...history project that I want to do is kind of...a solo mission.”
“What?” Oliver said, looking crestfallen.
Miguel leaned across the table. “Is this because we saw each other’s dicks? You’re not feeling weird about that, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Bryce said. He’d watched the videos of what they did to Finn more than a few times. “It’s just, this spe- history project is the perfect mix of karmic retribution and ironic justice, but it only works with one person. I’m sorry.”
Oliver and Miguel exchanged glances.
“So...could we do solo history projects, too?”
“I mean, it would only be fair,” Miguel added.
Bryce tensed. Alice was getting up from her table. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, watching her wipe her mouth on a napkin, her lipstick leaving a rosy pink smear on the thin paper. Perfect. “Wait here,” he said, grabbing his half-eaten lunch and weaving through the crowded cafeteria, following her to the garbage cans. She dropped her trash into one and turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! I’m sor-” she started to say, but stopped when she realized it was him. Her warm, expressive brown eyes narrowed. “What do you want, pervert?” She said it loud enough that her gang of girlfriends turned to look at Bryce. His cutting comeback died on his lips, his courage withering under their intense, judgmental stares.
“Just throwing my trash away,” he muttered, stepping around her to get to the cans. His face hot and pulse racing, he listened to them walk away, laughing and making cruel remarks. Bitches.
He looked down into the half-full trash bin, for a moment seeing nothing except bits of pizza and hamburgers and french fries. He began to panic. People would notice if he stood there too long. Where was it?
A smear of pink caught his eye and he reached in, snatching up the crumpled napkin. Dropping the remains of his lunch, he hurried back to his friends, falling onto his seat with a sigh of relief.
“Did you get it?” Miguel asked.
Bryce showed them the used napkin, then folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his pocket.
“So, I know you said this was a solo project,” Oliver said, “but you can still tell us what you have planned, right?”
Bryce grinned and the three of them leaned close.
~~~*~
Lying in bed, waiting for his parents to fall asleep, was the most intensely boring hour of Bryce’s life. He passed the time by renewing his fury toward Alice, reminding himself of the depth of her betrayal.
They had been going out for more than a year, which was about eight months longer than any of his previous relationships. He had his license, so they went to movies and out to dinner, and sometimes they just parked near the woods and made out, but they hadn’t yet gone all the way. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming pushy, but that night—their last date, as it would happen to be—she asked him if he had protection.
He did, and he asked if she was sure. She said she was. He asked if she had ever done it before. He still remembered the way she blushed as she shook her head. Then she asked him the same.
“You should have told her no,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead of a safe lie, he had given her a truth about himself that he had never shared with anyone. He trusted her with the most secret part of himself, a part he was still trying to understand and accept. He confessed that he’d been with a girl before. And a guy. Not at the same time, of course. He might be attracted to both men and women, but he promised to be faithful only to her.
He could tell she was in shock. He offered to drive her home and she agreed that would be best. Before they reached her driveway, he knew it was over. Being rejected hurt, but deep down, he wasn’t surprised. If only that had been the end of it.
The next day at school, he was nervous about seeing her in class. Would she say anything? As it turned out, she said plenty, but not at school. Walking through the halls, it felt like everyone was staring at him, snickers and whispers flying behind his back. It was Oliver who finally showed him the video she had made, telling the entire world how her boyfriend turned out to be a sexual deviant who would fuck anything, guys and girls, and probably farm animals if he could catch them.
Bryce had wanted to die. If it wasn’t for his friends, who never wavered from his side for a moment, who knows what he might have done.
Finally, it was after midnight, the house silent. Bryce got out of bed and turned on his desk lamp, opening his spell book and taking the crumpled napkin out of his pocket. Using a marker and a feather-light touch to keep from ripping the fragile paper, he copied down the complex spell equation, sweat beading his brow as he concentrated. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he copied something wrong, but the book insinuated that it would be bad, and not just in the oops, it didn’t work sort of way.
He finished and double-checked the incomprehensible string of symbols, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pocket knife. He wished his friends were there, but it seemed cruel to exclude them from the spell, and then ask them to babysit his body while his soul was busy elsewhere. He felt pretty safe in his room, but there was always the remote possibility of his parents checking on him and finding him unresponsive. He could just imagine how that would freak them out.
Bryce considered waiting, but he knew he was worried about nothing. And he had let Alice get away with what she had done for far too long. His voice low, he read the quantum incantation, as Oliver had begun calling it, feeling the subatomic world begin to resonate around him, a low-level hum that pressed against his ear drums, making them itch. As he reached the final syllables, he pressed the point of his knife into the pad of his thumb, a large, dark bead of blood welling up. Bryce squeezed his thumb, holding his breath as the drop of blood fell upon the napkin, a bright red stain spreading across the thin paper.
His lamp flickered and he stood, the room spinning around him. Taking a staggering step, he fell heavily upon his bed, the room going dark.
Bryce’s eyes snapped open, the world unfocused, but even blurry, he could tell he wasn’t in his room anymore. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing, and sat up, looking around at the stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, the flowered comforter spread over him, the posters of kpop bands on the walls. He reached down to push the comforter aside and froze, the hand before him slender and delicate, the nails painted glittery pink. He wiggled his fingers, watching that feminine hand respond.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he whispered, the hushed voice softer, higher than his own. He climbed out of bed and rushed over to the closet door, standing before the floor-length mirror, his heart racing. No, not his heart, her heart. He stared out of Alice’s brown eyes, reaching up to run his fingers back through her shoulder-length blonde hair. He touched the thin straps of her silky nightgown, shifting his weight to feel the material slide against her skin. This was amazing.
Bryce pulled the front of the nightgown down, exposing Alice’s bare breasts, her nipples peaking in the chill air, and he smirked as he cupped one firm mound, kneading the solid flesh.
What the fuck is going on?
Bryce jumped and whirled around, her hair falling across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and scanned the room, but it was dark, quiet, and empty.
I must be dreaming. It had a hollow, distant quality, but Bryce could still recognize Alice’s voice, echoing like an errant thought in his head. Am I sleepwalking? I’ve never sleepwalked before.
The book hadn’t said anything about her being aware while he was doing this. He briefly considered aborting his mission and just lying back down until the spell wore off, but she didn’t seem aware of him, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop him. She was just a spectator, along for the ride. He smirked again and headed for the kitchen.
This is so weird, Alice said as he walked down the hall. He had only been in her house a few times, but he remembered the layout pretty well. He stepped into the kitchen, the stone tile floor cold against her bare feet, and opened the fridge. Oh, God, am I sleep-eating? Is this why I gained five pounds this month?
Stifling a chuckle, Bryce searched the shelves and drawers, pulling out a foot-long sausage over an inch in diameter and an ear of fresh corn that was almost two inches at its widest point.
Eww, put that back, Alice said. If you have to eat something, grab a yogurt, you fatass.
Bryce headed back to her room, absently wondering if she always talked to herself like that. Low self-esteem might explain a lot. Of course, it didn’t excuse anything. He closed her door and locked it, then sat down at her laptop. She had once told him that her password was the name of her first dog, so he confidently typed ‘buttercup’ into the entry field and got to work setting up her webcam to record.
Now what am I doing? she asked. Is this going to be one of those food-porn videos of me eating gross stuff?
He was tempted to tell her that she was getting warmer, but he kept his mouth shut. He was looking forward to the moment when she figured it out for herself and he didn’t want to spoil it. Once the webcam was up and recording, he looked straight at it and began to speak. It was surreal hearing his words in her voice, but he didn’t let that distract him from what he wanted to say.
“Hello, my name is Alice Newman and I am a Senior at Riverbend High School,” he said.
What am I doing? Stop that! Alice said as Bryce proceeded to dox her, stating her birth date and home address. He wanted to give out her social security number, but he didn’t know it and he didn’t feel like looking for her card. That wasn’t really the point of this, just an added benefit.
“About a year ago, I posted a video about my ex-boyfriend, saying terrible things about him because I was confused and jealous.”
No, I wasn’t. What the hell is this?
“I was wrong to say those things, because I really hurt someone that I cared about, and this video is my penance. I know I can’t take back the things I said, but I hope this proves how sorry I truly am.”
But I’m not sorry! That perv got what he deserved!
Any second thoughts or doubts Bryce might have had evaporated like rain in the desert. He slid the chair back from the camera, waiting for the auto-focus to catch up, and then he eased the strap of her nightie down off one shoulder.
“The truth is,” Bryce said as he did the same to the other strap, “my boyfriend wasn’t the pervert. I am. I’m a naughty girl who likes showing off her tits.”
Don’t you fucking dare! Alice screamed. Bryce just smiled at the camera and slid the silky nightgown down over her creamy breasts, her dark nipples hard. He teased the pebbled flesh, a soft moan escaping her lips. Wake up, wake up! Wake the fuck up! She sounded absolutely panicked.
“Do you like my titties?” Bryce asked the camera. “I know they’re a little small, but the boys never seem to mind.” He slowly stood up, letting the nightgown slink down her body and fall to the floor, revealing her pink cotton panties, the crotch already dark with moisture. “Oh, dear, I’m such a bad girl. I’ve gone and made my panties all damp.”
Bryce was really getting into it, her skin hot, her heart racing as he slid her hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her tight, wet curls, the slick, swollen flesh of her pussy lips. He slipped a finger into her wet heat and rubbed against her clit, the sensation making her knees wobble.
He pulled his hand free, holding his slick, shiny finger out for the camera, then he slowly brought it up to his lips, giving the camera a wicked smile before licking up her juices.
“If anyone wants a taste, I’ll spread any time,” Bryce said, shoving her panties down. “Oops, looks like I’m not a natural blonde!” He played with her dark, neatly trimmed bush for a minute, then sank back down into the chair. He adjusted the camera to point down at her lap, and then he leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on her desk, her legs spread wide. The camera had great resolution, her pink flesh glistening as her clit swelled.
Inside his head, Alice made wounded-animal noises, utterly humiliated. But Bryce wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the sausage that he’d found in the fridge and reached down between her legs, trailing the rounded tip down her slick crease.
Don’t, please, Alice begged. I’m a virgin!
Bryce looked into the camera. “I tell people that I’m a virgin, but I’m really a dirty whore who loves to have her pussy stuffed. I’ll fuck anything, as long as it fits.” He pressed the sausage between her lips, finding her hole and forcing it in. He felt her hymen tear, a slight flash of pain and a lingering discomfort as her tight tunnel stretched around the solid length of meat. He imagined this wasn’t very sanitary, but honestly, he didn’t care.
“Oh, that feels so good,” he moaned in her voice, one hand kneading her breast as the other thrust the sausage into her hot box again and again, as deep as it would go. He felt the pleasure building within her, a slow simmering that made him ache for more. He wanted it harder, faster...and bigger.
Bryce pulled out the sausage and set it aside, her pussy clenching in anticipation as he picked up the ear of corn, already husked and washed. He slid it along her slit, the bumpy kernels rubbing against her clit and making him pant and moan.
“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, placing the tapered tip against her opening. “I like ‘em big and hard. Oh, fuck yes!” He cried out in pleasure as he pushed on the ear of corn, sliding it into her. It was so tight, he had to twist it from side to side, coating the surface of the corn with her hot, slick juices as he worked it deep. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he exclaimed, her muscles clenching as waves of orgasm shuddered through her, leaving Bryce breathless and light-headed.
No more, Alice sobbed, pleading.
Bryce reached over and picked up the sausage again, still warm and slick.
“This naughty girl is never satisfied by just one,” he said. Holding the corn in place with one hand, he reached between her legs, leaning further back as he pressed the tip of the sausage against her puckered asshole. “Oh, yeah, fuck me in the ass! I like it in my ass!”
He pushed the sausage into her, deeper and deeper, until only a few inches of that foot-long wiener protruded from her asshole. Feet still braced against the edge of the desk, he began to fuck her pussy hard with the ear of corn, the wet, sucking sounds loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and echoed through the laptop speakers. He let go of the sausage with her other hand and dug her fingers into her wet mound, rubbing hard against her clit.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried, her muscles tensing as the throbbing pleasure neared a crescendo. “I’m cumming!” He pounded her quivering pussy until he thought she was going to pass out, the sausage sliding out of her gaping asshole as her body bucked and shuddered. Finally, trembling and exhausted, he had to call it quits. His time owning her body was almost up, and he still had work to do.
Bryce shut off the recording and loaded up her editing software, snipping the video here and there, replaying her orgasms in slow-motion, zooming in as the ear of corn made its first deep penetration, and adding a quick intro.
“Perfect,” he murmured, opening a browser window and logging into her video-sharing account. This video went against all of the site’s rules and would be flagged and reported, it would be taken down and her account suspended, but not before plenty of people had a chance to download it and spread it around to other, less scrupulous sites. Like they tried to warn kids these days, anything put online stays there forever.
Please, don’t do this, Alice said in the back of his head. Wake up before you ruin my life.
“My dear Alice, haven’t you realized by now, ruining your life is the whole point,” he said, not caring if she realized what was happening. Once the spell faded, she wouldn’t remember. “Why should anyone give a shit about your feelings when you have no regard for the feelings of others? You brought this on yourself.”
Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself! Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what this is?
Bryce rolled his eyes and hit upload, watching the little bar fill until it read 100%. He clicked on her stats page and watched the hit counter. It stayed at 0 for all of thirty seconds, and within a minute, it was into the thousands.
“And there we are,” Bryce said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “Now the whole world knows what a dirty little slut you are. How does it feel, Alice?” He could hear her sobbing in the back of his mind. He could also feel his hold on her slipping. His time was up. In one last, vindictive act, he picked up the ear of corn from where it had fallen, the kernels glistening as her juices ran down the cob, and he shoved it into her mouth, tasting her tangy flavor as the spell faded.
Bryce jerked wake, his heart pounding and his hard cock tenting the front of his pajamas. He stared up at his ceiling, his room lit by his desk lamp. Had that actually happened, or was he just dreaming? He grabbed his phone off the corner of his desk and searched for Alice’s username. Sure enough, her newest video began to play, and his hard-on strained to escape the confines of his pants. He fished it out and jerked off, cumming not once, but twice before the video finished playing.
Panting, he cleaned up and turned out the light.
~~~*~
Monday morning, Bryce waited at Miguel’s locker, practically dancing with excitement. He hadn’t dared send them a link to the video—passing around pornography would get him expelled, or maybe even arrested, so he couldn’t wait to tell him and Oliver about the success of his history project.
Apparently, they felt the same way. The first words out of Oliver’s mouth were, “So, how did it go?” In hushed tones, he began telling them all about the spell, but his story was interrupted by a cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls. They looked down the hall as Alice hurried past a group of guys making lewd noises and rude gestures, her face beet red and streaked with tears.
“Ohh, perfecto, mi amigo,” Miguel said, dully impressed. “So, when do I get a turn with the book?”
“Excuse me?” Bryce said, arching an eyebrow.
“He’s right,” Oliver chimed in. “You said we could do solo projects. But I’m pretty sure you said I could go next.”
“He did not—”
“Guys, not now,” Bryce said. The principal had emerged from the front office, his large, imposing frame towering over the students. Rumor was that he used to play football, that he was going to go pro, and then an injury ended that. He did walk with a slight limp, so it could have been true.
“Miss Newman,” the principal called down the hall, his deep voice seeming to rattle Bryce to the bone. She looked up, her red face going white as a sheet. “My office. Now.”
“Boy, is she gonna get it,” Oliver said under his breath.
“She already did,” Miguel said with a snicker. “Bryce gave it to her good.”
They watched as Alice slunk past them. For a moment, she glanced up and Bryce met her eyes. He smirked and she looked away. One more history project in the books. Now, how to decide who got to go next?
1
3.9K
5
0
Loading...