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The opening couple of scenes for a slice-of-life stealth control story featuring a group of college friends. In this opening, Luna & Alphonse experiment with the technology with each other for the first time, and Luna is quite a bit bolder with it that Alphonse. It is largely ftm, from the male third person perspective.
The chilly air of Alphonse's dorm room was cut by the soft humming of a high end laptop, built more for specs than style. Alphonse himself sat hunched over, squinting at the glow of the screen in the darkness. The page he had stumbled upon was unlike anything he’d seen before, its dark background and neon lines carrying an aura of the illicit.
Or at least, an aura of a programmer who used dark mode, which was always a good sign.
It was late - late enough that his roommate Quincy was out on the town, courting danger or a damsel (or both). Alphonse sighed, running a hand through his mousy brown hair as he considered the proposition before him: a chance to buy into the surreal, the impossible.
Stealth Control Nanobots™
They were the stuff of whispered rumours and online conspiracy theories. The government had banned the technology long ago, citing concerns over privacy, consent, and potential for abuse. Concerns that were well founded. Even though the tech had never reached the mainstream, and was tightly controlled for government use only, there were still regular stories of leaks. It seemed like every few months some starlet would seem to lose her mind, and go masturbate in public, or dance nude on a balcony.
Stealth control was always blamed, and tighter controls always followed. Alphonse wondered how many of these cases were real – and how many times a drugged up rock star would just blame their latest bender on stealth control. “It wasn’t me! It was just my body!”
Still, if they were real… well, basic logic would dictate for every case you heard about, there were probably hundreds of people being controlled in ways that weren’t overt enough to make the news.
And if that were true, then maybe you *could* just buy a vial of the stuff from a random Russian IP address.
Alphonse knew he was talking himself into it.
His mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button, his heart pounding. He looked at the reviews again: users swearing up and down that the tech was real, functional, and life-altering. A few death threats to the seller. Someone asking how to exit vim. It seemed legitimate enough…
A mental image of Luna filled his mind, her dark goth aesthetic barely containing her wild exuberance. What would it be like to *be* her? His pulse quickened at the thought of experiencing her world, of seeing the universe through her eyes. It was such an intimate thought that he felt a pang of guilt immediately. Yet, there was a small part of him that yearned for that intimacy, a desire fueled by a confusing amalgam of curiosity, love, and the heady promise of forbidden… …science.
Maybe, if he controlled her, he could plant the idea in her mind that they should date… “incept” it, if you will. Alphonse rolled his eyes.
His sister Christina's warnings echoed in his mind. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should." She would definitely disapprove of his current predicament.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a notification beeped. A text from Quincy: "Bro, where you at? Rosa and Luna asking for you at the Fox's Den." His heartbeat quickened again. Luna was asking for him?
The weight of the decision weighed heavy on his heart. He was no womaniser like Quincy, no social butterfly like Rosa. He was Alphonse, the bassist in the band, the nerd in the corner, the one who was always observing, dreaming… not doing. This technology, dangerous and alluring as it was, could be his chance to connect, to understand, to be a part of something bigger.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hands trembling as he clicked 'Buy Now'. The screen confirmed his purchase, and the weight seemed to lift a little, replaced with a heady blend of exhilaration and anxiety.
He hastily shut his laptop, grabbed his bass, and left the dorm room. Tonight, he was going to enjoy his regular life. Tomorrow, he thought, with a mix of excitement and fear, everything could change. He could change. He only hoped that the price wouldn't be too high.
________________________________
A week later Alphonse and Luna sat in that same dorm room, staring at a non-descript metal box. It had arrived that morning.
Alphonse, tall and gangly, was hunched over it. His fingers tapped on the plain surface, a thumb running over the embossed logo of a butterfly - a suitable symbol for a box of Stealth Control Nanobots™, he thought.
Luna, wearing her habitual black skinny jeans and band tee, watched Alphonse with a barely contained excitement in her emerald eyes. It was a look that Alphonse knew too well, and it always made his heart stumble and his palms dampen. How was it possible that she would even want to hang out with him, when she was so damn cool, and he… well, he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wondered if she noticed his pulse thundering in his throat, betraying his nervousness.
"Alphonse, stop stalling," she teased, playfully punching his arm. He winced, more from the contact than any supposed pain, but he allowed a hesitant smile. "I want to see what they look like!"
He opened up the box with a click. Inside lay rows of vials, each containing a small amount of silvery liquid. They were tiny, barely a few millilitres, and yet they held the power to wrestle control from the mind of one and place it into the hands of another.
“Huh, smaller than I thought”, said Luna. She picked one up, and he winced at the sacrilege. “Ready to give it a go?”
A ripple of unease traversed Alphonse's spine as he carefully picked up one of his own. He looked down at Luna and found himself wondering what it would be like to *be* her. Her dainty hands fiddled with the vial impatiently, the pale skin and black painted nails looking ghostly against the silvery vial. Was he really about to have a turn controlling those hands?
He looked down at himself. Large. Kinda gangly. Not unfit, just, like his limbs didn’t quite sit right. Would she even want a turn controlling him? Would he let her? Immeasurably powerful tiny little robots were about to float across his blood brain barrier, attach themselves to his neurons, and force them to fire in a pattern that matched the one in Luna’s brain – at least, as far as sensation and movement were concerned.
He shivered. Then he thought of Luna – lively, unpredictable Luna – wielding that power over him and shivered again, and not just from fear. He could feel a stirring beginning in his pants. That might be an awkward one to explain if Luna took a turn using it on him.
"Are you sure about this?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
Luna responded with an impish grin. "You’re not backing out on me, are you! Al, when on earth will we get another chance like this! I want to know what it’s like!"
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous sort of thrill.
"I-I'm- no! Let’s do it!" Alphonse managed, voice steady despite the tumultuous storm of anxiety brewing within him.
Luna raised her vial in the air as if making a toast, then swallowed it in one go. Alphonse hesitated and then drank his as well.
She looked down at herself. “Okay, I don’t feel any different. What now?”
Alphonse swallowed, finding his voice again. "It said that the nanobots in the liquid will make their way to our brains and establish a sort of connection with our neurons." He explained, hands slightly shaking as he held up his own, now empty, vial.
"Once that's done, a small light will flash in our vision, and we'll be able to navigate a basic user interface in our minds. It's like... you know, when you're dreaming, and you're aware that you're dreaming? It's a bit like that. It doesn't intrude on your day-to-day life; it's just there, waiting to be accessed."
Luna's eyebrows furrowed as she took in his explanation, a tinge of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. "And then what?"
"There's an option in the UI," Alphonse continued, gesturing vaguely with his hands, "that lets us select whether to make ourselves 'open' to being controlled by anybody else who's swallowed the nanobots. It's like setting your phone to hotspot. Anyone can connect, provided they have the same kind of nanobots, and are nearby"
“Wait, anyone?” Luna stared at him, silent for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. “I really should have waited before chugging that. Remind me not to leave that setting on! Don’t want me to be taken over by some old perv! Ha!”
Alphonse blushed and nodded.
“Oh, wait, wait! Something’s changed! I saw the flash!”
As she spoke, Alphonse himself saw a brief flash of yellow light pulse in the exact centre of his vision and then fade away. His brain felt different somehow, like there was something else in there with him…
“Okay! I’m trying the UI!” said Luna excitedly.
Alphonse watched as Luna closed her eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her. She was so beautiful! Fierce, fearless… cute. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lips forming a small 'o' as if she was exercising a muscle that she had never used before.
A moment later, her eyes sprang open. "I did it!" she announced, grinning wide enough to light up the room. "I set it to 'open', Al!"
She threw her arms wide. “I’m open!”
Alphonse nearly choked on his saliva. Did she know what she was doing to him? How turned on he was? His dick throbbed in his pants, and he tried to adjust as subtly as he could. “Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep.” he thought to himself. “Don’t do it!”
"A-alright," he stuttered, his fingers nervously entwining together in his lap. He concentrated on his own UI, bringing forth that odd feeling that was layered behind his thoughts. It was a surreal feeling, like reaching out for a dream and finding it solid under your touch.
Navigating the interface was strange, like trying to control an extra limb that he'd never noticed before. He squinted, a line of concentration forming between his brows as he looked for Luna in his mind's eye. And there she was, a clear node of light, pulsating softly, inviting him in. Open. Ready for him.
"Are you sure about this, Luna?" he asked, his voice a threadbare whisper.
"Absolutely!" she replied, the excitement in her voice doing little to calm his racing heart. "Now, come on! Try controlling me!"
Alphonse took a deep breath, readying himself for the plunge, then reached out to that pulsing light. The world shifted, tilted, and for a moment he was standing on the edge of an abyss, a strange sense of anticipation and terror swirling within him.
And then, he fell.
Into her.
___________________________________
The sensation of falling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a jolting sense of weightlessness – it was like he was passing through something, a layer, a boundary that held his own self distinct from Luna's. Like rising up from deep underwater, feeling the changing sensations as the water changed temperature and the light got brighter… and then he landed!
Alphonse jolted and gasped. He was here! He was inside Luna! His mind stuttered at the realisation, his thoughts becoming a chaotic whirlpool. The interface was still there, a pressure at the edge of his perception, giving him a semblance of stability.
He heard a soft thud as his own body slumped to the floor across from him. What the hell…
His floating mind seemed to settle a little bit, the sensations becoming less fuzzy, more distinct. He looked down, Luna's hands were smaller, softer than his. Her nails, painted a deep black, looked stark against the pale complexion of her skin. He clenched and unclenched the delicate fingers, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the fragility of her slender bones beneath.
He looked around the room. The world seemed sharper, clearer, as if he was seeing through a camera lens. He knew Luna wore glasses for reading, but her natural eyesight seemed to be so much better than his. Colours were brighter, shapes more distinct.
The strangest feeling, however, was the raw sensation of being in a female body. It was an uncanny mix of familiarity and strangeness. The contours of her body were alien to him, the slight swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. It was like he had been handed a new instrument and was expected to play without any practice.
He glanced down for a second, and caught a glimpse of his new breasts inside his shirt, held by a plain black bra. He jolted his head back up as if burned.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep!
Instead, Alphonse slowly and deliberately lifted his -- Luna's -- hand to his face. Smooth, soft. His fingers traced over the foreign features, feeling the curve of her cheekbones, the button-like softness of her nose, the plumpness of her lips. Her nose felt particularly different. It was smaller and flatter than his own, and, strangely, easier to breathe through.
His heart was beating like a war drum in his tiny chest as he slowly lowered his hand again, careful not to touch anything *inappropriate*. That thought brought his mind to the body below him, hidden beneath his clothes. He had tits on his chest. Luna’s tits. A warmth spread through his nether region, and a very strange sensation of a wetness appearing in his underwear. A wetness… He had a vagina! He, Alphonse, could *feel* Luna’s vagina. Involuntarily, he felt it pulse at the thought, a wave of foreign pleasure spreading up through him.
Oh god, oh god. Could she tell? Surely she could tell. She was supposed to be aware of everything. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d blown it!
His breathing increased, his heart pounded. He felt his new face flush, and his fingers began to lightly tingle. He needed to get out! Out out out! Something instinctual kicked in within him and he found himself reaching out with that mental limb, that construct of a UI, and somehow managed to force himself out of the body. He felt like he was swimming upward, through currents and waves pushing him back down, upward and upward towards the light, his body going numb, his senses a dull ringing!
With a jolt, Alphonse found himself laying on his back.
The sudden sensation of returning to his own body was a shock in and of itself, like being thrust into ice-cold water. His senses scrambled to readjust, vertigo swooping through him like a bird of prey. The ceiling spun above him, a hazy whirl of colours before it gradually settled into the familiar sight.
He blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. His hands, rougher and larger, lay on his stomach. He was back in his body.
Sitting up, Alphonse drew in a shuddering breath. From across the room, Luna began to laugh, a sound as clear and bright as the sun. "Holy shit, Alphonse! Did you really control me?"
Her eyes were shining with excitement as she sat up. Her fingers brushed back the hair from her face, her movements noticeably more fluid and familiar than when Alphonse was in charge.
“Um”, said Alphonse, “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Al! This is amazing!” she looked down at herself, then she grabbed her boobs through her shirt and jiggled them up and down. “It’s so weird. I felt like I *really* wanted to do this a few moments ago, but couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Being controlled by this thing is wild!”
“Oh… um…” Alphonse stammered. “I- uh- I didn’t do anything! I was decent!”
“Yeah, yeah I know!” said Luna with a laugh. “I was getting so horny though. It must have been really strange for you to feel me getting horny while you were in control. Sorry about that!”
“Um, yeah, it was odd.” Alphonse said, blushing.
“Wait! *You* were in control! I didn’t get horny! You did!” Luna cackled like a madman. “Oh my god that’s so much worse. You made me horny!”
Alphonse buried his head in his hands, but he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he always assumed Luna would act way more… normal… then she did.
Luna bounced on the spot, her face ablaze with excitement, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she examined her own hands. "You know what's crazy? I was fully aware. I knew what I was doing, how I was moving… I felt like I was doing everything myself!" She tilted her head back, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling in wonderment. "But like, I knew that I wasn’t? I saw you fall back, I knew I was acting unnatural, but it was just… it felt so normal!! Al, this stuff is incredible. If I didn’t know I was going to be controlled, there is *no way* I’d be able to tell."
Alphonse watched her, his own thoughts a jumble of emotions. Awe, curiosity, apprehension, guilt...
"Did you... um, did you feel uncomfortable?" he asked tentatively, his gaze dropping to his own lap.
Luna let out a bark of laughter. "Uncomfortable? No! It was insane! Good insane! Sort of like... you know when you're in a dream, and you're just kind of going along with it because dream logic?"
Alphonse nodded, an uneasy chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense..."
“You made me feel so awkward!” Luna chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “When I was trying not to look at my boobs, I felt like a naughty school girl caught kissing in the locker room. If you wanted to see them that bad, you could have just asked.” she winked at him, and Alphonse felt himself turning a deep red and his previously subsiding erection shot back up. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Anyway! My turn now!”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes! I want a turn! It’s only fair - you got to be me.”
Alphonse cringed. One part of him desperately wanted Luna to experience being him, and he was scared and turned on at the idea of being controlled by his crush. Another part of him was aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and the fact that Luna would *know*.
“Hurry up! I can’t see you yet!” Luna called out, her eyes squeezed shut as she navigated the ghostly UI.
Fuck it.
Alphonse reached out with that strange new part of his mind, and found the right settling. A strange sensation went through his body as he flipped it from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. There he was. Totally exposed.
“Okay, I’m-”
He stopped talking and looked down at himself. What would it feel like to be controlled? Nearby, Luna’s body slumped to the ground.
“Wow, you were really excited!” he said to himself as he reached down to adjust his erection. It seemed to grow three times harder as he tried to adjust it, not quite getting the usual knack right.
“Do you mind?” he said, and began undoing his belt.
Some part of him cringed for a moment. He really shouldn’t undress with Luna *right there*. She literally just needed to turn her head a little, and she’d see him exposing himself right in front of her!
Wait a minute…
Alphonse tried to say something to Luna, to ask if she had remote accessed his nanobots, but some part of him decided against it. Best not to disturb her.
Best… not to disturb her? What the hell?
He was being controlled, wasn’t he?
It didn’t feel like it. He stared down at his hands as they worked his belt and buttons. It felt like he was just taking off his pants. But… Luna was passed out, he’d set his nanobots to receive the connection, and they had *literally* just agreed to have her control him.
Even knowing all of that, Alphonse didn’t believe it in his bones.
“Wow, these things really are powerful”, he thought.
He finally got the buckle undone and ripped his pants down, his erect dick catching a bit as he yanked them roughly. He stared at it. Average size, average width. Hard as a nail. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
Hey wait, if he was being controlled by Luna right now, did that mean she was feeling turned on too?
He reached down to feel it in his hands, gently running his fingers along the length of his shaft, and lightly squeezing the end. It felt amazing.
Not just feeling turned on too, she was turning *him* on. If Alphonse was being controlled, then this wasn’t really his erection! It was hers!
He wanted to chuckle at that thought, but decided not to.
He reached a little lower and cupped his balls, lightly lifting them with his hand and feeling how they responded. He gave them a little slap and felt them jiggle.
“Hah, that’s not so bad.” he said “I knew guys were exaggerating.”
He flicked one a little harder and- Argh!
A heavy throbbing pain washed over him. The taste of bile appeared in his throat. He doubled over and gasped.
“Ugh. Okay. Okay. Bad idea.”
Still, he was hard. The pain gradually subsided as he played more with his erect dick. He wanted so badly to quickly rub one out, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to get into bed or the bathroom to do it the way he usually would.
Instead, Alphonse reached up to his chest and cupped his pecks through his t-shirt.
“Heh, these certainly beat boobs”, he said. He tapped one, and tried to make them dance by flexing them, but couldn’t quite manage it properly. Then he grabbed his shirt, dug his fingers in hard, and with as much force as he could muster, tore it open right down the middle.
“I always wanted to do that!” he laughed. “I guess I owe you a shirt now.”
Pretty soon his eyes fell upon Luna’s unconscious body, slumped on the ground. He effortlessly picked it up and dumped it on his bed, giggling as he watched her flop around.
“I’m so light! I never realised how easy that was for you!” he laughed again, pushing Luna’s empty head side to side. “I should be a lot less impressed, but you do have some serious muscles for such a serious geek.”
He flexed an arm and looked at it approvingly. Meanwhile, his dick still beckoned.
He found himself biting his lip.
“Now”, he said to himself, “I knoooow how you felt when you were me. And how I felt like I was doing everything. And I don’t want to freak you out. But, this is me in here. This is Luna speaking right now.”
Alphonse tried to force that thought to stay with him. It still didn’t feel like it.
“And that’s my body lying right there.” he continued, “So, I’m going to just go ahead, and, well…”
He looked down at his dick again, which had hardened right back up to full mast. Then, Alphonse found himself climbing on top of the bed… over Luna’s vacant face… and…
Oh, no, he couldn’t do that, could he?
He lined up his dick and gently pushed it into Luna’s mouth.
But it was Luna doing this, right? Luna was controlling him now?
He slowly pushed it inside, passed the teeth, and deep down her throat.
“Hah. No gag reflex!” he laughed.
If Luna was controlling him, did that mean she *wanted* to give him a blowjob? Or… did she want to get a blowjob?
He began thrusting slowly. It felt… very strange. He was extraordinarily horny, and the idea that Luna was making him do this was hot as fuck, but at the same time, the blowjob kind of sucked.
“I wish I could make my body suck properly!” said Alphonse, frustrated. He readjusted his position, and pushed in deeper. He could feel Luna’s body’s lips pressing right down near the base of his shaft.
Did Luna have a crush on him? Or did this fall under the category of masturbation?
He didn’t have long to think about it because soon, far sooner than he was ready, he felt a familiar barrier get crossed, and his load spurted out into Luna’s throat and over her face. The orgasm was a surprisingly disappointing one, all things considered.
“Gah!” he said. “That can’t be it!”
He kept thrusting, but his dick quickly became soft and uncomfortably sensitive against Luna’s teeth. He sighed.
“That was definitely an experience. Thanks Alphonse.”
He wanted to collapse down onto the bed and fall asleep, but instead he found himself climbing off of Luna. Without bothering to get dressed, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up her face a bit.
“Might as well do this before heading back!”
And with that, he lay down on the floor, still naked below the waist, and-
“What the hell…” muttered Alphonse. Nearby, Luna pushed herself up, gagging slightly.
“Ugh, that is not very comfortable on this end.” she coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“That was… did you really control me?” Alphonse asked.
“Na-dar. Looking good by the way.” she smirked.
Alphonse glanced down and then sat up with a start. Apparently he’d- she’d- forgotten to put his pants back on. He quickly covered himself up, blushing.
“That was the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life.” he said.
“Maybe third, for me” Luna laughed. “Hey, sorry for really jumping into it, I just… ah, I dunno, you felt the same things right?”
Alphonse nodded, blushing. “It felt like I was the one doing everything.”
“I know right!” Luna smiled down at him. “I think we need to bring the others in on this.”
“Really?”
“Ye-huh. Tomorrow night. I’ve got a game in mind.”
Luna picked up her bag.
“I really need a shower after all of that. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And with that, she left. Alphonse flopped back down and sighed. What he just unleashed?
The chilly air of Alphonse's dorm room was cut by the soft humming of a high end laptop, built more for specs than style. Alphonse himself sat hunched over, squinting at the glow of the screen in the darkness. The page he had stumbled upon was unlike anything he’d seen before, its dark background and neon lines carrying an aura of the illicit.
Or at least, an aura of a programmer who used dark mode, which was always a good sign.
It was late - late enough that his roommate Quincy was out on the town, courting danger or a damsel (or both). Alphonse sighed, running a hand through his mousy brown hair as he considered the proposition before him: a chance to buy into the surreal, the impossible.
Stealth Control Nanobots™
They were the stuff of whispered rumours and online conspiracy theories. The government had banned the technology long ago, citing concerns over privacy, consent, and potential for abuse. Concerns that were well founded. Even though the tech had never reached the mainstream, and was tightly controlled for government use only, there were still regular stories of leaks. It seemed like every few months some starlet would seem to lose her mind, and go masturbate in public, or dance nude on a balcony.
Stealth control was always blamed, and tighter controls always followed. Alphonse wondered how many of these cases were real – and how many times a drugged up rock star would just blame their latest bender on stealth control. “It wasn’t me! It was just my body!”
Still, if they were real… well, basic logic would dictate for every case you heard about, there were probably hundreds of people being controlled in ways that weren’t overt enough to make the news.
And if that were true, then maybe you *could* just buy a vial of the stuff from a random Russian IP address.
Alphonse knew he was talking himself into it.
His mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button, his heart pounding. He looked at the reviews again: users swearing up and down that the tech was real, functional, and life-altering. A few death threats to the seller. Someone asking how to exit vim. It seemed legitimate enough…
A mental image of Luna filled his mind, her dark goth aesthetic barely containing her wild exuberance. What would it be like to *be* her? His pulse quickened at the thought of experiencing her world, of seeing the universe through her eyes. It was such an intimate thought that he felt a pang of guilt immediately. Yet, there was a small part of him that yearned for that intimacy, a desire fueled by a confusing amalgam of curiosity, love, and the heady promise of forbidden… …science.
Maybe, if he controlled her, he could plant the idea in her mind that they should date… “incept” it, if you will. Alphonse rolled his eyes.
His sister Christina's warnings echoed in his mind. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should." She would definitely disapprove of his current predicament.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a notification beeped. A text from Quincy: "Bro, where you at? Rosa and Luna asking for you at the Fox's Den." His heartbeat quickened again. Luna was asking for him?
The weight of the decision weighed heavy on his heart. He was no womaniser like Quincy, no social butterfly like Rosa. He was Alphonse, the bassist in the band, the nerd in the corner, the one who was always observing, dreaming… not doing. This technology, dangerous and alluring as it was, could be his chance to connect, to understand, to be a part of something bigger.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hands trembling as he clicked 'Buy Now'. The screen confirmed his purchase, and the weight seemed to lift a little, replaced with a heady blend of exhilaration and anxiety.
He hastily shut his laptop, grabbed his bass, and left the dorm room. Tonight, he was going to enjoy his regular life. Tomorrow, he thought, with a mix of excitement and fear, everything could change. He could change. He only hoped that the price wouldn't be too high.
________________________________
A week later Alphonse and Luna sat in that same dorm room, staring at a non-descript metal box. It had arrived that morning.
Alphonse, tall and gangly, was hunched over it. His fingers tapped on the plain surface, a thumb running over the embossed logo of a butterfly - a suitable symbol for a box of Stealth Control Nanobots™, he thought.
Luna, wearing her habitual black skinny jeans and band tee, watched Alphonse with a barely contained excitement in her emerald eyes. It was a look that Alphonse knew too well, and it always made his heart stumble and his palms dampen. How was it possible that she would even want to hang out with him, when she was so damn cool, and he… well, he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wondered if she noticed his pulse thundering in his throat, betraying his nervousness.
"Alphonse, stop stalling," she teased, playfully punching his arm. He winced, more from the contact than any supposed pain, but he allowed a hesitant smile. "I want to see what they look like!"
He opened up the box with a click. Inside lay rows of vials, each containing a small amount of silvery liquid. They were tiny, barely a few millilitres, and yet they held the power to wrestle control from the mind of one and place it into the hands of another.
“Huh, smaller than I thought”, said Luna. She picked one up, and he winced at the sacrilege. “Ready to give it a go?”
A ripple of unease traversed Alphonse's spine as he carefully picked up one of his own. He looked down at Luna and found himself wondering what it would be like to *be* her. Her dainty hands fiddled with the vial impatiently, the pale skin and black painted nails looking ghostly against the silvery vial. Was he really about to have a turn controlling those hands?
He looked down at himself. Large. Kinda gangly. Not unfit, just, like his limbs didn’t quite sit right. Would she even want a turn controlling him? Would he let her? Immeasurably powerful tiny little robots were about to float across his blood brain barrier, attach themselves to his neurons, and force them to fire in a pattern that matched the one in Luna’s brain – at least, as far as sensation and movement were concerned.
He shivered. Then he thought of Luna – lively, unpredictable Luna – wielding that power over him and shivered again, and not just from fear. He could feel a stirring beginning in his pants. That might be an awkward one to explain if Luna took a turn using it on him.
"Are you sure about this?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
Luna responded with an impish grin. "You’re not backing out on me, are you! Al, when on earth will we get another chance like this! I want to know what it’s like!"
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous sort of thrill.
"I-I'm- no! Let’s do it!" Alphonse managed, voice steady despite the tumultuous storm of anxiety brewing within him.
Luna raised her vial in the air as if making a toast, then swallowed it in one go. Alphonse hesitated and then drank his as well.
She looked down at herself. “Okay, I don’t feel any different. What now?”
Alphonse swallowed, finding his voice again. "It said that the nanobots in the liquid will make their way to our brains and establish a sort of connection with our neurons." He explained, hands slightly shaking as he held up his own, now empty, vial.
"Once that's done, a small light will flash in our vision, and we'll be able to navigate a basic user interface in our minds. It's like... you know, when you're dreaming, and you're aware that you're dreaming? It's a bit like that. It doesn't intrude on your day-to-day life; it's just there, waiting to be accessed."
Luna's eyebrows furrowed as she took in his explanation, a tinge of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. "And then what?"
"There's an option in the UI," Alphonse continued, gesturing vaguely with his hands, "that lets us select whether to make ourselves 'open' to being controlled by anybody else who's swallowed the nanobots. It's like setting your phone to hotspot. Anyone can connect, provided they have the same kind of nanobots, and are nearby"
“Wait, anyone?” Luna stared at him, silent for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. “I really should have waited before chugging that. Remind me not to leave that setting on! Don’t want me to be taken over by some old perv! Ha!”
Alphonse blushed and nodded.
“Oh, wait, wait! Something’s changed! I saw the flash!”
As she spoke, Alphonse himself saw a brief flash of yellow light pulse in the exact centre of his vision and then fade away. His brain felt different somehow, like there was something else in there with him…
“Okay! I’m trying the UI!” said Luna excitedly.
Alphonse watched as Luna closed her eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her. She was so beautiful! Fierce, fearless… cute. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lips forming a small 'o' as if she was exercising a muscle that she had never used before.
A moment later, her eyes sprang open. "I did it!" she announced, grinning wide enough to light up the room. "I set it to 'open', Al!"
She threw her arms wide. “I’m open!”
Alphonse nearly choked on his saliva. Did she know what she was doing to him? How turned on he was? His dick throbbed in his pants, and he tried to adjust as subtly as he could. “Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep.” he thought to himself. “Don’t do it!”
"A-alright," he stuttered, his fingers nervously entwining together in his lap. He concentrated on his own UI, bringing forth that odd feeling that was layered behind his thoughts. It was a surreal feeling, like reaching out for a dream and finding it solid under your touch.
Navigating the interface was strange, like trying to control an extra limb that he'd never noticed before. He squinted, a line of concentration forming between his brows as he looked for Luna in his mind's eye. And there she was, a clear node of light, pulsating softly, inviting him in. Open. Ready for him.
"Are you sure about this, Luna?" he asked, his voice a threadbare whisper.
"Absolutely!" she replied, the excitement in her voice doing little to calm his racing heart. "Now, come on! Try controlling me!"
Alphonse took a deep breath, readying himself for the plunge, then reached out to that pulsing light. The world shifted, tilted, and for a moment he was standing on the edge of an abyss, a strange sense of anticipation and terror swirling within him.
And then, he fell.
Into her.
___________________________________
The sensation of falling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a jolting sense of weightlessness – it was like he was passing through something, a layer, a boundary that held his own self distinct from Luna's. Like rising up from deep underwater, feeling the changing sensations as the water changed temperature and the light got brighter… and then he landed!
Alphonse jolted and gasped. He was here! He was inside Luna! His mind stuttered at the realisation, his thoughts becoming a chaotic whirlpool. The interface was still there, a pressure at the edge of his perception, giving him a semblance of stability.
He heard a soft thud as his own body slumped to the floor across from him. What the hell…
His floating mind seemed to settle a little bit, the sensations becoming less fuzzy, more distinct. He looked down, Luna's hands were smaller, softer than his. Her nails, painted a deep black, looked stark against the pale complexion of her skin. He clenched and unclenched the delicate fingers, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the fragility of her slender bones beneath.
He looked around the room. The world seemed sharper, clearer, as if he was seeing through a camera lens. He knew Luna wore glasses for reading, but her natural eyesight seemed to be so much better than his. Colours were brighter, shapes more distinct.
The strangest feeling, however, was the raw sensation of being in a female body. It was an uncanny mix of familiarity and strangeness. The contours of her body were alien to him, the slight swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. It was like he had been handed a new instrument and was expected to play without any practice.
He glanced down for a second, and caught a glimpse of his new breasts inside his shirt, held by a plain black bra. He jolted his head back up as if burned.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep!
Instead, Alphonse slowly and deliberately lifted his -- Luna's -- hand to his face. Smooth, soft. His fingers traced over the foreign features, feeling the curve of her cheekbones, the button-like softness of her nose, the plumpness of her lips. Her nose felt particularly different. It was smaller and flatter than his own, and, strangely, easier to breathe through.
His heart was beating like a war drum in his tiny chest as he slowly lowered his hand again, careful not to touch anything *inappropriate*. That thought brought his mind to the body below him, hidden beneath his clothes. He had tits on his chest. Luna’s tits. A warmth spread through his nether region, and a very strange sensation of a wetness appearing in his underwear. A wetness… He had a vagina! He, Alphonse, could *feel* Luna’s vagina. Involuntarily, he felt it pulse at the thought, a wave of foreign pleasure spreading up through him.
Oh god, oh god. Could she tell? Surely she could tell. She was supposed to be aware of everything. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d blown it!
His breathing increased, his heart pounded. He felt his new face flush, and his fingers began to lightly tingle. He needed to get out! Out out out! Something instinctual kicked in within him and he found himself reaching out with that mental limb, that construct of a UI, and somehow managed to force himself out of the body. He felt like he was swimming upward, through currents and waves pushing him back down, upward and upward towards the light, his body going numb, his senses a dull ringing!
With a jolt, Alphonse found himself laying on his back.
The sudden sensation of returning to his own body was a shock in and of itself, like being thrust into ice-cold water. His senses scrambled to readjust, vertigo swooping through him like a bird of prey. The ceiling spun above him, a hazy whirl of colours before it gradually settled into the familiar sight.
He blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. His hands, rougher and larger, lay on his stomach. He was back in his body.
Sitting up, Alphonse drew in a shuddering breath. From across the room, Luna began to laugh, a sound as clear and bright as the sun. "Holy shit, Alphonse! Did you really control me?"
Her eyes were shining with excitement as she sat up. Her fingers brushed back the hair from her face, her movements noticeably more fluid and familiar than when Alphonse was in charge.
“Um”, said Alphonse, “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Al! This is amazing!” she looked down at herself, then she grabbed her boobs through her shirt and jiggled them up and down. “It’s so weird. I felt like I *really* wanted to do this a few moments ago, but couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Being controlled by this thing is wild!”
“Oh… um…” Alphonse stammered. “I- uh- I didn’t do anything! I was decent!”
“Yeah, yeah I know!” said Luna with a laugh. “I was getting so horny though. It must have been really strange for you to feel me getting horny while you were in control. Sorry about that!”
“Um, yeah, it was odd.” Alphonse said, blushing.
“Wait! *You* were in control! I didn’t get horny! You did!” Luna cackled like a madman. “Oh my god that’s so much worse. You made me horny!”
Alphonse buried his head in his hands, but he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he always assumed Luna would act way more… normal… then she did.
Luna bounced on the spot, her face ablaze with excitement, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she examined her own hands. "You know what's crazy? I was fully aware. I knew what I was doing, how I was moving… I felt like I was doing everything myself!" She tilted her head back, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling in wonderment. "But like, I knew that I wasn’t? I saw you fall back, I knew I was acting unnatural, but it was just… it felt so normal!! Al, this stuff is incredible. If I didn’t know I was going to be controlled, there is *no way* I’d be able to tell."
Alphonse watched her, his own thoughts a jumble of emotions. Awe, curiosity, apprehension, guilt...
"Did you... um, did you feel uncomfortable?" he asked tentatively, his gaze dropping to his own lap.
Luna let out a bark of laughter. "Uncomfortable? No! It was insane! Good insane! Sort of like... you know when you're in a dream, and you're just kind of going along with it because dream logic?"
Alphonse nodded, an uneasy chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense..."
“You made me feel so awkward!” Luna chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “When I was trying not to look at my boobs, I felt like a naughty school girl caught kissing in the locker room. If you wanted to see them that bad, you could have just asked.” she winked at him, and Alphonse felt himself turning a deep red and his previously subsiding erection shot back up. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Anyway! My turn now!”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes! I want a turn! It’s only fair - you got to be me.”
Alphonse cringed. One part of him desperately wanted Luna to experience being him, and he was scared and turned on at the idea of being controlled by his crush. Another part of him was aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and the fact that Luna would *know*.
“Hurry up! I can’t see you yet!” Luna called out, her eyes squeezed shut as she navigated the ghostly UI.
Fuck it.
Alphonse reached out with that strange new part of his mind, and found the right settling. A strange sensation went through his body as he flipped it from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. There he was. Totally exposed.
“Okay, I’m-”
He stopped talking and looked down at himself. What would it feel like to be controlled? Nearby, Luna’s body slumped to the ground.
“Wow, you were really excited!” he said to himself as he reached down to adjust his erection. It seemed to grow three times harder as he tried to adjust it, not quite getting the usual knack right.
“Do you mind?” he said, and began undoing his belt.
Some part of him cringed for a moment. He really shouldn’t undress with Luna *right there*. She literally just needed to turn her head a little, and she’d see him exposing himself right in front of her!
Wait a minute…
Alphonse tried to say something to Luna, to ask if she had remote accessed his nanobots, but some part of him decided against it. Best not to disturb her.
Best… not to disturb her? What the hell?
He was being controlled, wasn’t he?
It didn’t feel like it. He stared down at his hands as they worked his belt and buttons. It felt like he was just taking off his pants. But… Luna was passed out, he’d set his nanobots to receive the connection, and they had *literally* just agreed to have her control him.
Even knowing all of that, Alphonse didn’t believe it in his bones.
“Wow, these things really are powerful”, he thought.
He finally got the buckle undone and ripped his pants down, his erect dick catching a bit as he yanked them roughly. He stared at it. Average size, average width. Hard as a nail. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
Hey wait, if he was being controlled by Luna right now, did that mean she was feeling turned on too?
He reached down to feel it in his hands, gently running his fingers along the length of his shaft, and lightly squeezing the end. It felt amazing.
Not just feeling turned on too, she was turning *him* on. If Alphonse was being controlled, then this wasn’t really his erection! It was hers!
He wanted to chuckle at that thought, but decided not to.
He reached a little lower and cupped his balls, lightly lifting them with his hand and feeling how they responded. He gave them a little slap and felt them jiggle.
“Hah, that’s not so bad.” he said “I knew guys were exaggerating.”
He flicked one a little harder and- Argh!
A heavy throbbing pain washed over him. The taste of bile appeared in his throat. He doubled over and gasped.
“Ugh. Okay. Okay. Bad idea.”
Still, he was hard. The pain gradually subsided as he played more with his erect dick. He wanted so badly to quickly rub one out, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to get into bed or the bathroom to do it the way he usually would.
Instead, Alphonse reached up to his chest and cupped his pecks through his t-shirt.
“Heh, these certainly beat boobs”, he said. He tapped one, and tried to make them dance by flexing them, but couldn’t quite manage it properly. Then he grabbed his shirt, dug his fingers in hard, and with as much force as he could muster, tore it open right down the middle.
“I always wanted to do that!” he laughed. “I guess I owe you a shirt now.”
Pretty soon his eyes fell upon Luna’s unconscious body, slumped on the ground. He effortlessly picked it up and dumped it on his bed, giggling as he watched her flop around.
“I’m so light! I never realised how easy that was for you!” he laughed again, pushing Luna’s empty head side to side. “I should be a lot less impressed, but you do have some serious muscles for such a serious geek.”
He flexed an arm and looked at it approvingly. Meanwhile, his dick still beckoned.
He found himself biting his lip.
“Now”, he said to himself, “I knoooow how you felt when you were me. And how I felt like I was doing everything. And I don’t want to freak you out. But, this is me in here. This is Luna speaking right now.”
Alphonse tried to force that thought to stay with him. It still didn’t feel like it.
“And that’s my body lying right there.” he continued, “So, I’m going to just go ahead, and, well…”
He looked down at his dick again, which had hardened right back up to full mast. Then, Alphonse found himself climbing on top of the bed… over Luna’s vacant face… and…
Oh, no, he couldn’t do that, could he?
He lined up his dick and gently pushed it into Luna’s mouth.
But it was Luna doing this, right? Luna was controlling him now?
He slowly pushed it inside, passed the teeth, and deep down her throat.
“Hah. No gag reflex!” he laughed.
If Luna was controlling him, did that mean she *wanted* to give him a blowjob? Or… did she want to get a blowjob?
He began thrusting slowly. It felt… very strange. He was extraordinarily horny, and the idea that Luna was making him do this was hot as fuck, but at the same time, the blowjob kind of sucked.
“I wish I could make my body suck properly!” said Alphonse, frustrated. He readjusted his position, and pushed in deeper. He could feel Luna’s body’s lips pressing right down near the base of his shaft.
Did Luna have a crush on him? Or did this fall under the category of masturbation?
He didn’t have long to think about it because soon, far sooner than he was ready, he felt a familiar barrier get crossed, and his load spurted out into Luna’s throat and over her face. The orgasm was a surprisingly disappointing one, all things considered.
“Gah!” he said. “That can’t be it!”
He kept thrusting, but his dick quickly became soft and uncomfortably sensitive against Luna’s teeth. He sighed.
“That was definitely an experience. Thanks Alphonse.”
He wanted to collapse down onto the bed and fall asleep, but instead he found himself climbing off of Luna. Without bothering to get dressed, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up her face a bit.
“Might as well do this before heading back!”
And with that, he lay down on the floor, still naked below the waist, and-
“What the hell…” muttered Alphonse. Nearby, Luna pushed herself up, gagging slightly.
“Ugh, that is not very comfortable on this end.” she coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“That was… did you really control me?” Alphonse asked.
“Na-dar. Looking good by the way.” she smirked.
Alphonse glanced down and then sat up with a start. Apparently he’d- she’d- forgotten to put his pants back on. He quickly covered himself up, blushing.
“That was the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life.” he said.
“Maybe third, for me” Luna laughed. “Hey, sorry for really jumping into it, I just… ah, I dunno, you felt the same things right?”
Alphonse nodded, blushing. “It felt like I was the one doing everything.”
“I know right!” Luna smiled down at him. “I think we need to bring the others in on this.”
“Really?”
“Ye-huh. Tomorrow night. I’ve got a game in mind.”
Luna picked up her bag.
“I really need a shower after all of that. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And with that, she left. Alphonse flopped back down and sighed. What he just unleashed?
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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.
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Stealth Control: A Not-So-Average Sort Of Day Part 1 in Stealth Control: A Not-So-Average Sort Of Day
by
VexenFox
· 25 Jul 2023
The opening couple of scenes for a slice-of-life stealth control story featuring a group of college friends. In this opening, Luna & Alphonse experiment with the technology with each other for the first time, and Luna is quite a bit bolder with it that Alphonse. It is largely ftm, from the male third person perspective.
4.4K
11
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Stealth Control: Protection Racket in Stealth Control: Protection Racket
by
VexenFox
· 18 Jul 2023
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.
8.7K
6
5
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