Welcome to
Read and write stories with our community and AI
You can start a new story of your own, branch out from an existing chapter, or play through an AI generated text adventure! Subscribe to Premium for full access to all stories and much higher AI usage!
Story created by
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
possession incest reverse body hopper
by
ellaguru
· 07 Feb 2025
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
possession
+2 more
7.4K
230
8
1
0 / 100,000 characters
Loading...
No selection - the entire chapter will be rewritten.
Similar Stories on Outfox
A NEET terrorizes her family with her possession powers.
It was in the very early morning hours. The whole house was pitch-black and its inhabitants were fast asleep, except for one. The only source of light was the glow emenating from a computer monitor. It illuminated Wendy’s face and the strands of greasy hair glued to it. The synthetic light just faintly revealed the mess in her room: the moldy plates, empty take-out boxes, and dirty clothes, all of which were freely intermixed and strewn about.
Wet sounds and a pungent smell filled the air. Wendy sat in her computer chair in just her underwear and masturbated while playing an erotic dating simulator. She had been an avid fan of video games, especially story-driven ones like visual novels, since she was a kid, but since the twenty-three-year-old failed out of college and moved back in with her parents, she had done nothing but sit in front of her computer and play video games all day long.
She used to be somewhat pretty, but she let herself go quite a bit when she essentially barricaded herself into her old childhood room, only ever leaving to use the bathroom. Since then, she had been escaping more and more into the virtual world of various video games, desperately trying to escape her failures in the outside world. The easily achievable goals in those games provided her with at least a fake sense of fullfilment and purpose.
Initially, she stuck to regular video games and story-driven visual novels. But since moving back home, she got fairly addicted to romantic dating simulators, which provided her a with a substitute for the type of relationship she longed for but could not achieve in real life. Things took even more of a downturn when, a few months ago, after having played through virtually all visual novels, she checked out her first incest-themed eroge, a genre she had not paid any attention to before, but now felt compelled to in order to avoid spending any second alone with her own thoughts.
Right in that moment she was playing through a scene where the main character’s adorable little sister snuck into her older brother’s bed and snuggled up to him under the covers. The game quickly turned erotic and, in response, Wendy let out a long, deep grunt, signaling her climax.
To recuperate from her self-satisfaction, Wendy leaned back into her chair and looked up at her dimmly-lit ceiling. After a few moments an idea popped into her head. She got up and, for the first time in a while, left her room for a reason other than to use the bathroom. She quietly crept through the dark hallway and slowly opened the door two rooms further down, trying to keep it from creaking as to not wake the person sleeping inside.
After entering the room, she managed to silently close the door behind her and then tip-toed towards the bed inside. There, she lifted the covers and carefully laid down next to her older brother Josh who was sleeping soundly. She then cozied up to him under the blanket just like she had seen the little sister do in her video game. She was now right next to him with her foul breath caressing his skin.
Wanting to recreate the scene from her video game, Wendy began carefully fishing her brother’s limp dick out of his pyjama pants and gently rubbed it until it was fully errect. She then rolled on top of him, pushed her panties aside, and stealthily slipped his dick into her hungry snatch.
Meanwhile, Josh was having the most amazing dream. In it, he found himself in an infinite, white void where he was hooking up with the most breathtakingly beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her long, brunette hair appeared to be silky-soft as it gently swayed around her slender frame with each motion, lending her an ethereal presence. The only things about her that he found more captivating than her radiant smile were her full, ripe breasts, which were practically begging to be devoured. She seemed really familiar to Josh, although he could not quite place where he had seen her before. Maybe she was an ex-girlfriend he had forgotten about. Nevertheless, he did not want to keep this unknown beauty waiting by fretting about it.
Josh and the mysterious girl had already fully shed their clothes and were eager to get things going. He laid down on the most comfortable bed imaginable, which had appeared out of nowhere without him ever noticing. Lying on his back, he watched as his dream lover expertly fondled his privates while looking up at him with hungry eyes. In no time he was ready to take her. The nameless vixen sat on top of him and began immediately riding him, placing her hands on his hard abs for support. Her hot, silky depths engulfed him completely as her smooth, hairless body writhed with pleasure. Biting her lower lip, she failed to stifle the soft moans escaping from her mouth that accompanied the expressions of extacy on her gorgeous face. They caressed Josh’s ears like the sweatest of melodies, bewitching him like a siren. The pleasure that grew in his groin was overwhelming, beyond anything he had ever experienced in real life.
Yet, something about her felt odd to him. Despite her small size and lithe body, the dreamy nymph on top of him felt unusually heavy. This bizarre fact made him realize that he was actually dreaming, which immediately ripped him from his sleep.
Completely disoriented, the only things Josh could perceive in the dark was labored breathing and groaning, and a heavy weight bouncing up and down on him. At first he hoped that this might be a continuation of his wonderful dream, but when a lurid stench crept up his nose he knew for certain that he was awake. Wanting to find out who or what was disturbing his sweet dreams, he turned to his night stand right beside his bed to turn on the light. For a few seconds the sudden presence of light blinded him like a flash of lightning. But when his eyes had acclimated to the new-found brightness, he was horrified by the ghastly figure sitting on top of him.
“Wendy!!”, Josh exlaimed as he recognized his grody younger sister straddling him, wearing only a bra and panties. Her grin was barely visible through her greasy hair and the bra that had failed to adjust to her increased size dug deeply into her chubby shape, almost cutting off circulation to her formless breasts. “What the hell are you doing in my room in the middle of the night? And why are you sitting on top of me?” Josh demanded angrily. “Oh, Josh,” was the only answer Wendy could moan, never breaking with the rhythm of her movements. Hearing these sexual sounds come from his sister’s mouth was like fingernails on a chalkboard to his ears.
Her abhorrent, yet puzzling, response made Josh’s eyes wander lower. He gagged violently when he discovered his dick was burried deep inside his sister’s rancid, unkempt snatch, even feeling her coarse pubes rubbing against his skin as she was grinding her crotch against his. He felt so repulsed by this disgusting sight that he could have projectile-vomitted every meal he had ever had in his life right in that very moment. Luckily, his stomach was completely empty or he would have made an even bigger mess out of this situation.
“Get off of me!” Josh yelled while forcefully pushing his grody sister away. Wendy fell off his dick, off his bed, and on onto the floor, landing there with a strong thud. She quickly scrambled back onto her feet. “Why did you do that?” she hissed. “That’s what I should be asking! Why were you having sex with me, Wendy? You’re my sister! That’s so fucked!” he exclaimed. “But I’m your cute little sister, bro. Don’t you find me adorable,” she said batting her eye-lids, trying to charm her brother, but somehow ending up looking even creepier.
“Eewww, you’re sick, Wendy! Sick and vile!” Josh said disgusted. “And not just that, you’re also fucking filthy. I’d rather rip my own dick off and poke my eyes out with it than have sex with you, even if we were the last two people on earth stranded on a lonely island! I wish you’d just disappear forever and leave us alone.” Her brother’s harsh remarks finally burst the fantasy that Wendy had built up in her mind over the past few months of playing eroges. The reality she tried to run from came crashing down on her right in this moment, as Josh’s cutting words hurt her deeply.
“Fine!” Wendy said scorned and full of anger. “If you want me to disappear, then that’s what I will do, I guess!” With tears of anger welling up, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Wait! Wendy! Nooo—!” Josh exclaimed, trying to stop her. But it was too late. As if something had zapped the life out of her, Wendy instantly lost all the tension in her body and collapsed face-first onto her brother’s bed. At the same time, Josh’s eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body began convulsing vigorously. Then something inside of him snapped and he, too, lost almost all the tension in his body, just barely being able to stand. His head was loosely dangling from his neck.
After a few moments of silence, Josh seemed to wake up, as both his heads slowly rose up again. But when he opened his eyes, he was no longer in control. His sister Wendy had somehow developed the powers to take over other people’s bodies during her early teenage years. At first she was shy and reluctant about them, as she used to be a gentle soul. She simply could not square it with her conscience to control other people. The most she would do was ride along in the friends or family members of a boy she had a crush on at the time. When her parents found out about her powers, they immediately scolded her and forbade her from ever using her powers. But as Wendy grew older, her parents realized that their daughter did not have any ill intentions and began relaxing about the situation.
But when Wendy failed out of college and her mental health declined, things turned scary for her family. She became more and more controlling and petulant, throwing tamper tantrums anytime anyone disturbed her or tried to tell her what to do. She also became increasingly blasé about using her powers, taking over her family, neighbors, and anyone in reach for the smallest of matters, just so she would never have to leave her room.
On a few occasions Wendy had even used her powers to blackmail people into doing what she wanted, even when she was not possessing them. Another time she had stalked a poor guy who she had become at first infatuated and then obsessed with on social media. She had followed him around as different people, watching every step he made, every second of his life for two months. She only stopped because she eventually became bored of him.
These were the myriad of reasons that her family now lived in fear of her. Her parents could not throw her out because of her powers. They themselves could not move out since all their savings were tied into their house. Their youngest daughter, Alice, refused to leave, as she did not want her parents to suffer alone. And even Josh had moved back in as a means to protect his family, which is why he now found himself not in control of his own body.
“Josh” grinned from ear to ear as he patted down “his” flat chest. “He” then flexed his biceps, admiring his own strength. Next, he grabbed his dick, which was already painfully errect, with both his hands and began firmly squeezing it. He could virtually feel the blood pulsing through the thick meat of his sizeable member. “He” then turned to the person lying on his bed and said, “I’m soooo sorry, ‘sis’. I didn’t mean to hurt you. My words came out all wrong. What I meant to say was that you are the most adorable little sister a big brother could ever wish for! Here, let me show you how much I love you.”
With that, “Josh” stepped towards Wendy’s comatose body and snaked his big, strong hands underneath her torso. “Oh, my. When did my cute little sister grow up to be such a woman?” “he” cooed while groping her flabby breasts. Without turning over her heavy frame, “Josh” glid his rough hands along her pudgy waist and onto her even wider hips, firmly grabbing ahold of them. “He” then carefully wormed his prick into “his sister’s” slimy, hairy cunt, before forcefully jamming his entire length into her unconscious flesh.
Without any further hesitation, “Josh” began viciously fucking his sleeping sister, pumping in and out of her like an animal while groaning and grunting like a bull. “He” nearly worked himself into a frenzy. Wendy’s rotten odor began reeking from all the friction and heat they created, which seemed to turn him on even more. For the next two minutes, the clapping of “his” hips against her sizeable cheeks echoed throughout the room until “he” finally hit is climax and then dumped his thick load inside of “his” sister’s gooey slit. Still inside of her, he collapsed on top of her and under heavy breathing whispered into her ear, “I love you, ‘sis’.”
--------------------------------------------------------
It was very late in the morning, almost creeping on noon, when Christine, the mother of the house, stood in the kitchen and prepared some food. She was cheerfully humming a tune while cutting up a cantalope and placing slices of ham on pieces of crispy toast. She then artfully aranged the food on a plate, in a way that was worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant. The food was not only delicious but also visually appetizing, and so was her ample bosom that was proudly put on display by a low-cut, floral sundress, which gently hugged her motherly curves.
Still humming to herself, Christine picked up the plate, left the kitchen, and went up the stairs with a joyful bounce to her step, which not only made the hem of her short dress dance around her hips and tickle her thighs but also made her opulent mounds jiggle playfully. Upstairs, she entered her daughter’s dingy room without either knocking or turning on the lights and placed the food on her desk. “Enjoy your breakfast, honey,” she whispered to a sleeping Wendy.
Without any further hesitation, Christine left her daughter’s room and headed straight to the master bedroom. Behind locked doors she made her way over to her full-sized mirror and began admiring herself. Slowly, a big, dirty grin spread across her face. “Thank you, mother, for providing me with such a healthy breakfast,” “Christine” said in a sickly-sweet tone, seemingly mocking herself. “You always taught me to eat my daily share of fruits, and your ‘melons’ are especially delicious,” she said while giving her huge globes a firm squeeze. “She” then slowly moved her hands along “her” waist and hips, closely following and enjoying every inch of her delectable curves, and then began groping her big, womanly ass. “And let’s not forget about your delicious meat! I gotta hand it to you: you got a real meatsuit of a body, mom!”
“Christine” then threw herself onto her bed and immediately began furiously masturbating, not even bothering to undress. One hand tightly squeezed her fleshy tits while the other inserted two fingers into her hungry snatch, dragging her panties along with them as they plummeted the depths of her steaming hot hole that had given birth to three children, one of which was now in control of her body and effectively molesting her own mother.
Regrettably, “Christine” soon had to remove her hand from her supple twins in order to cover her mouth and stiffle her moans, so that she would not alert the whole house to her lewd activities. Meanwhile, the other hand continued to slip in and out of her unabated. Under the assault from such intense stimulation, it did not take long for her to reach her peak, which she celebrated by letting out a long, muffled scream.
The only thing “Christine” was able to do in the immediate aftermath was to lay on her back, breathing heavily, and bask in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her panties and her hand were now drenched in her juices. But, alas, her bliss was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. “Mom, are you in there?” Josh asked loudly through the door. “Have you seen my black shirt? I’ve been looking all over for it!”
“Christine” quickly scrambled onto her feet and straightend out her dress and hair, trying to make herself look as presentable as possible, as to not tip off “her son” to what kept her so busy. She cracked the door open just barely enough to stick her head out, hiding her body behind the door and her dripping wet hand behind her back. “Have you checked the laundry? I’m pretty sure I’ve put it in the wash recently,” she answered his query. “Yeah, I did. I guess I’m gonna check again, just to be sure,” Josh said and was already turning to walk away.
“Wait!” “Christine” suddenly exlaimed a little bit too loudly, as a most devious idea popped into her head. “What?” Josh asked somewhat startled. “You’ve got a smudge on the corner of your mouth” she explained. “Where?” he said while trying to wipe the imaginary stain from his face. “No, it’s still there. Here, let me try,” she said, now fully opening the door and finally stepping out of the room.
Josh was taken by surprise when “his mother” suddenly got so close to him that she was essentially pushing her opulent chest against his torso. Looking down he saw her face with an expresssion of concentration look up at him. Underneath that he caught a glimpse of her soft pillows bulging out of the top of her dress as they were pressed flat against him.
“M–Mom, w–what are you doing?” Jost stammered, as he began to blush. “Hold still! Just let me get it real quick,” “Christine” demanded. Unbeknownst to Josh, though, the hand which “his mother” was now smearing all over his face was still coated in her sticky juices.
Since Josh was quite a bit taller than his mother, “Christine” raised herself up by standing on the tips of her toes to better reach and more closely inspect his face. In the process, she pushed her breasts even deeper into him and slid them up along his chest until their nipples were perfectly aligned with each other.
“M–Mom, s–stop it!” Josh said while struggling to get away from her, as her face was now close enough that he could feel her hot breath on his skin. “Hold still!” “Christine” demanded. “The more you move the longer it will take.” Never having been this close to his own mother, at least not since he was a child, Josh caught a whiff of her perfume which was followed by a strange, musky smell.
Coming into such intimate contact with a woman’s body made the inside of Josh’s pants swell rapidly. His dick did not care who it was, flesh was flesh. But the thought that it was his own mother’s flesh surprisingly made him grow even harder. So hard, in fact, that he was now poking her belly with his manhood.
Appaled by his own reaction, Josh pushed who he thought was his mother away from himself. “Thanks, I think it’s gone now,” he yelled out without looking at her, trying to hide that his face was now a deep crimson. He then hastily fled to his room, almost tripping over himself, as he desperately tried to escape this embarrassing situation. “Christine” on the other just chuckled to herself, as she was highly amused by “her son’s” reaction.
That night Christine and Gilbert could be heard enjoying each other throughout the house.
--------------------------------------------------------
A lot of clanking, rattling, and cursing could be heard coming from the garage. Christine had asked her husband Gilbert to look after the car, since it had been making a lot of weird noises lately and even had briefly died on her the other day. This is why Gilbert, a man in his early fifties who, despite his thinning hair and slight dad bob, had still retained some of his youthful handsomeness, was now bent over the car’s engine covered in dirt and motor oil, occasionally bonking his head on the hood of the car.
Just as he finished changing the oil, his daughter Alice walked in. Unlike her sister Wendy, Alice had always been a Daddy’s girl. She and her father had been attached by the hip to each other ever since she was born. Even throughout puberty, when most other teenagers vie for their independence, she had stayed close to her Dad who had remained a steadfast anchor for her. Even now, the twenty-year-old college student loved spending time with her father more than anything else. Ever since she was a little child, one of her favorite things to do was to sit in her father’s lap and play Super Mario Bros., earning her the nickname “princess”.
There was something about her father’s presence that was incredibly relaxing to her, which is why the slim brunette did not mind him seeing her in only a pair of yoga pants and a tight spaghetti-strap top without a bra. Her outfit revealed the outline of her nubile form in great detail, including her pert buns and her gravity-defying orbs. Even her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her top as soon as they got a taste of the chilly air inside the garage.
“Hey, Dad! Watcha doing?” Alice exclaimed with a beaming smile on her face. She threw her arms enthusiastically around her father’s waist, smushing her buoyant breasts against his soft belly in the process. “Not much,” Gilbert replied while reciprocating her loving embrace. He rocked her from side to side, thereby squishing his daughter’s youthful mounds even tighter against himself. “Your mother was complaining about the car so I thought maybe I could get the old can working again. What about you, princess? Wanna hang out with your old man?”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Alice said. “But I just came here to get a screwdriver to fix the recliner on my chair.” “Well, then don’t let me stop you,” Gilbert said and booped her on the nose, coating its tip with black grease from his dirty hands. When they released their embrace and Alice made her way towards the shelf on the other side of the garage, Gilbert watched his daughter’s backside and discovered that he had accidentally smeared black grease all over her. Most of it covered her shoulders and upper arms, but some of it even got on her lower back.
The tool she was looking for was located on the top-most shelf, so Alice had to really stretch herself to reach up high. But, it was not enough, as she was still missing a few inches. She then tried jumping up and down, making her luscious body, and especially her firm cheeks, shake vigorously every time she returned to the ground. Yet, she still came up short. For a while, Gilbert closely eyed his daughter’s antics before he walked over to her and said, “Here, let me help you with that.”
Alice suddenly yelped as her father, without warning, scooped up her tight little butt with his big, strong hands, and lifted her up high. His palms essentially provided a seat for her from which she comfortably could reach the tool she needed. Gilbert then gently put her down again, leaving two big, greasy handprints on his daughter’s rear.
Her father’s sudden display of strength left Alice a bit frazzled. For a moment she just stood there in silence, still facing away from him. She did not know what was happening to her. As a kid she had loved being picked up by her Dad and would cling to him like a koala. But that was ages ago. Now that she was fully grown she felt differently. No man had ever handled her like that, lifting her entire adult weight so easily. It somehow made her heart beat much faster and left her short of breath. She tried to swallow down those strange feelings, yet she still blushed when she tucked her long, brunette hair behind her ears.
Alice was in the middle of turning to face her father, wanting to ask him what that was all about, when she suddenly felt as if her feet were knocked away from under her legs, making her trip and fall chest-first towards him. Gilbert instinctively tried to catch her fall, but by doing so his daughter’s perky mounds landed squarely on his big, greasy hands. His dirty palms molded themselves perfectly around the swell of her pliable breasts. Alice thought she might be going crazy, but she could have sworn she had felt her Dad give her boobs a firm squeeze. Nevertheless, her nipples still visibly stiffened.
“Uhm, … Dad?” Alice squeaked with her father’s hands still cupping her twins. “Yes, princess? Are you alright?” Gilbert asked with worry on his face. “Yeah, … I guess so …,” she mumbled while getting back on her own feet. When Gilbert’s hands finally disconnected from his daughter’s body, they revealed yet another pair of big, black handprints, this time squarely on her chest.
“Are you sure? You seem kinda out of it,” Gilbert said while trying to feel his daughter’s forehead with the back of his hand. Alice swatted his hand away more aggressively than she had intended. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said with a bit of agitation in her voice. “I …, uh …, I need to change.”
Unable to deny the heat welling up inside of her, Alice tried to leave as quickly as she could, but on her way out her Dad surprised her yet again by giving her a not-so-fatherly pat on her ass. She turned her head around one last time and to give her “father” a quizzical look, but the expression on his face betrayed nothing but paternal intentions. Yet, as soon as she had left the garage, “Gilbert’s” warm expression turned sinister and a big, wet stain began to form on the crotch of his pants.
--------------------------------------------------------
It was late at night. Christine and Gilbert had gone out earlier that evening and were not expected to return until the next morning, leaving the “kids“ home alone. The whole house was wrapped in silence, except for the blaring of the TV coming from the living room. Josh sat alone on the couch watching a movie when Alice came shuffling into the room. She was completely draped in a giant blanket, dragging a long train behind her, making it almost look like a wedding dress.
“Heeeyy, Josh. What are you doing?” Alice asked drowsily. “Oh, nothing much. Just watching a movie. What’s up with you? Why the huge-ass blanket?” her brother responded. “I’m a little cold. Mind if I join you?” “Sure. Be my guest” he said patting the spot next to him and then placed his arm on the back of the couch. She took up his offer and sat down beside him, putting up her legs and angling them to the side, all while making sure to never leave the comforting warmth of her blanket.
“Oh, hey, isn’t that the movie we used to watch a lot as kids?” Alice asked. “Yeah,” Josh responded. “I happened to come across it while I was flipping through the channels.” “Boy, I haven’t seen it in years. I completely forgot about it. I remember we used to watch it every time it was on. I even used to scour the TV magazines so that I always knew when to catch it,” Alice said excitedly. “Yeah, I’ve been watching it only for a few minutes, yet there are so many lines that come back to me just seconds before they show up in the movie,“ Josh said joining in on the excitement.
The two siblings kept laughing and joking, quoting lines from the movie as they appeared on screen, and reveling in old memories. After sharing lots of heartfelt moments, Alice suddenly asked her brother, “Are you cold, too?” Without waiting for an answer, she began covering him with the excess half of her blanket. “Here, let me give you some of my blanket. That’ll warm you up in no time.” “Well, I wasn’t really cold. But, thanks, I guess,” the young man commented.
Underneath the blanket, Alice sidled up closer to her brother and put her head on his shoulder. They had always gotten along great, yet he was somewhat surprised about how she was acting chummier than usual. But since they were sharing a deeply bonding moment, he didn’t question it any further. Sitting like that with his sister felt comfortable to him, making him relax deeply, and allowing himself to completely get lost in the movie.
For the rest of the night, the two of them kept watching the movie in silence. When it was over, Josh’s immersion finally broke and he came back to the real world. He switched off the TV and was about to turn towards his sister when he noticed that the top of her head was right underneath his nose. Somehow she had sneakily wrapped her arms around his waist and had fallen asleep with her head nestled against his chest. Most of her body laid on top of him in a tight embrace.
Alice’s gentle snores reminded Josh of a cat’s soft purrs. He thought that, in this moment, his little sister was the most adorable. But when the sweet fragrance of her peach-flavored shampoo invaded his nose, it caused something to stir deep inside of him, in a place completely unbeknownst to him. To his shock, he began to grow hard.
Confused about his feelings, Josh just sat there, not daring to make a move. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Alice woke up. Rustling underneath the blanket she looked up at him with bleary eyes. When the vision of her brother’s face came into focus she greeted him with a beaming smile. For a long moment, they just gazed at each other wordlessly. Her big, glimmering eyes looked up at him longingly, which made him blush and melted away all his natural defences. He was now at full mast.
Josh then watched in slow-motion how his sister closed her eyes and moved in closer. When he felt her tender lips on his, he was completly stunned. His jaw dropped in shock, which Alice interpreted as an invitation to sneak her tongue into his mouth. At first he went along with it by pure instinct. But when it finally sank in that he was, in fact, really kissing his sister, he shoved her away in panic, making the blanket slip down a bit, uncovering her bare shoulders.
“Stooooppp!!” Josh yelled. “What are you doing? You’re my sister! We can’t be doing that!” Tears began welling up in Alice’s eyes in response to his sudden outburst. “But Josh …,” she whimpered. “Don’t you love me?” She looked at him expectantly with her watery eyes. “Nooo!!!” he continued yelling. “I-I-I mean, y-yes, I-I m-mean, no!” he stammered. “Aarghh! I don’t love you like thaaat!”
Alice dropped her head seemingly in defeat. But something about her demeanor changed, like a shadow was cast over her eyes. Suddenly Josh felt something scurrying around his scrotch underneath the blanket. He realized it was his sister’s hands trying to undo his belt and zipper. Now even more panicked, he pushed her away more forcefully than before, accidentally throwing the blanket off of her in the process and revealing that she had been naked underneath.
“Alice!! Why the hell are you naked?!?! What is wrong with you today?” Josh kept yelling. With a dark, menacing grin forming on her face, she growled at him, “You better let this happen. We don’t want her to find herself in a compromising situation, do we?” “Wendy…,” Josh gasped, the words getting stuck in his throat. His mind was sent on a rollercoaster, desperately struggling for a solution on how to get out of this situation. But deep down, Josh knew he had nothing against her powers.
Completely dejected, Josh finally resigned himself to his fate. “Alice”, on the other hand, squealed with excitement and, like a child ripping open a present on christmas, frantically tried to get her brother’s dick out of his pants. When she finally freed it from its denim prison, his rigid member sprung out with the energy of a coil spring. She then swung one of her smooth legs over her brother and placed herself squarely on top of him.
Without any further hesitation, “Alice” slowly lowered her unclad, nubile form towards her brother’s penis. His bulbous head at first just barely kissed her velvety folds, but then gently parted them, and finally, by completely piercing her labia, desecrated that holy bond between brother and sister.
“Wendy, we have to stop this! We’re not wearing any protection!” Josh tried to protest one last time. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure this little slut is on birth control” “Alice” hissed. She was straining to force herself down her brother’s girth. “Hhnnnnnghhhoooohhhh my god she is so tight” she said panting. “She must still be a virgin. Well, not anymore, hehe.” Her small, hairless lips formed a tight seal around his thick shaft. To keep going further, she arched her back and angled her hips for maximum penetration.
When she finally bottomed out, “Alice” grabbed Josh’s head and started giving him a deep passionate kiss. Her long, brown hair draped over them, curtailing the world from seeing the forbidden intimacy they were sharing. While they kept kissing, “Alice” started to moan into his mouth, as she began slowly working her way up and down her brother’s shaft. The more their friction and passion increased, the more she ruffled his hair, her hands’ movements becoming more and more frantic.
Meanwhile, Josh moved his hands down his sister’s bare back and glid them first along her waist, then her hips, and finally around the sensual curve of her butt. He gave her firm cheeks a strong squeeze, while at the same time supporting her petite body with his manly hands. At last, he finally gave in to his new-found, forbidden desires and started humping his sister in sync with the rhythm of her movements.
Getting wetter by the second, “Alice’s” juices by now provided enough lubrication for her to easily glide along her brother’s member. She broke off their kiss, sat upgright, and began to drastically increase her speed. As she was bouncing up and down on Josh’s dick, her perky tits kept jiggling wildy about. To aleviate that, she took her brother’s hands and firmly placed them on top of her shapley breasts. He eagerly accepted her offer and began digging his fingers deeply into the tender flesh of his sister’s swollen boobs, ferociously groping and squeezing them like a man who lost all his inhibitions.
Greed seemed to overtake Josh, as he followed his sister’s lead by sitting upright and then tightly embracing her lithe body while she kept viciously riding his cock. Hungrily, he placed his mouth on her delicious breasts and began sucking and licking and biting her nipples, practically devouring her boobs and almost swallowing them whole. His sister rewarded him by giving off a series of high-pitched moans and clamping down on his dick.
“Wendy …,” Josh gasped short of breath and inbetween sucking his sister’s nipples. “What is it, bro?” Alice moaned. “I don’t… I don’t think I can hold it any lo—” was the last thing Josh managed to say before he finally errupted inside his sister like a volcano, spraying his creamy spunk all over his her insides. Feeling her brother’s hot goo coating her inner walls set off “Alice’s” own orgasm, making her join him in his extacy. Her body, which was glistening from all the excertion, began shaking from top to bottom as if a current of electricity ran through her.
When the tension suddenly left her body, “Alice” collapsed on top of her brother. Completely drained, she nestled her head against his chest, breathing heavily and with strands of her sweat-drenched hair sticking to her face. “I love you, Josh,” “Alice” whispered sweetly. “I love you, too,” he sighed unconvincingly. His dick was still inside deep his sister, refusing to go limp.
--------------------------------------------------------
For the past month there had been a large shadow hanging over their household. Wendy’s shenanigans had sowed mistrust and uneasiness among the members of her family. It all came to a head when Alice finally confronted her brother. “Josh, I’m begging you: please tell me the truth!” Alice pleaded. “What’s going on? Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t even look me in the eyes anymore.” “I said, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Josh hissed without even facing her. His eyes were red and on the verge of tears.
Gilbert and Christine heard their children argue, so they went to investigate. “What’s going with the two of you? Why are you making so much noise?” Gilbert said as he stepped into the room. “Josh, has been avoiding me for weeks now and he won’t tell me what his problem is,” Alice said unnerved. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that, too. Care to explain yourself, son?” Gilbert asked.
Josh tried to block off their barrage of questions, but, after being relentlessly corned by three people, he eventually broke down in tears and confessed how Wendy had taken control of Alice and forced himself onto her, and how he had been unable to resist. The entire room fell silent. Alice’s stomach turned, sickening her to her core. Gilbert was simply stunned, the news leaving his mind completely blank.
Christine, on the other hand, felt an uncontrollable rage explode inside of her. “That’s it!” she yelled with tears of anger in her eyes. “This is way over the line! I’m so sick and tired of her shit. This has to end now!” “Wait! Where are you going?” Gilbert said to the afterimage of his wife as she had already rushed out of the room. The rest of them slowly began to follow her, one after the other, still trying to process the information they had just received.
An absolutely livid Christine stomped furiously down the hallway and violently barged into her daughter’s room, almost knocking the door out of its hinges. There, Wendy laid on her bed and, like so often, just slept. Without waiting for her to wake up, Christine swiftly approached her sleeping daughter, wrapped her hands around her throat, and began strangling her with all her might. Wendy did not seem to make any signs of struggling against her mother’s assault.
“How could you do that?” Christine sobbed uncontrollably as rivers of tears streamed down her face. “I loved you with all my heart. Why did you become such a hateful peson? Where did I go wrong?” she said gritting her teeth. “This is the only way I can make things right!”
Gilbert and Josh were aghast when they stepped into the room and discovered what Christine was doing. Yet, neither of them intervened and tried to stop her. They just stood there and watched.
When everything was over, everybody went quiet again, except for Christine who was unable to stop her tears. Suddenly, Alice, who everyone seemed to have forgotten about, stepped into the room. They all looked at her in disbelief as they watched a creepy, sinister smile form on her pretty face. “No!” Christine whispered. “Actually, yes, mother,” “Alice” countered. “I’m not so easy to get rid of, you see.” “No!” Christine repeated, this time more emphatically. “And from now on, you will all do exactly as I tell you or the police might get an anonymous tip about what has happened to your dearest daughter. Remember this for the rest of you lives: you got blood on your hands, literally, and I won’t hesistate to take any one of you down!” “Alice” said menacingly. It finally dawned on Christine, Gilbert, and Josh that there was no way of escaping Wendy and that they had to resign themselves to the fact that their lives were now fully under her control, essentially making them her personal slaves.
Meanwhile, “Alice”, who was relishing in the power she had over her family, sauntered over towards her father and lifted the front of her skirt, exposing “her” panty-clad pussy. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, Daddy,” she whispered with lust dripping in her voice. Both of her small, feminine hands then reached out and grabbed one of her father’s big, manly hands and slowly guided it underneath her skirt and panties and gently placed it onto her already sopping wet pussy. Gilbert was too stunned to stop her, and even if he had not been, he would not have dared to go against her.
Suddenly, both Alice and Gilbert shuddered simultaneously. “We sure will, princess,” “Gilbert” said with a lecherous expression on his face. “He” then slipped a finger inside “his” daughter’s smooth folds and began aggressively fingering her hole. The real Alice was dazed and confused when she finally came to again. “D–Dad?” she stammared. “W–What’s going o–o–oooohhhhnnggg?!” she moaned, being overwhelmed by an unexpected orgasm as her “father” quickly sent her over the edge.
Christine was horrified as she watched her husband molest their daughter in front of her eyes. Unfortunately, she was unable to do anything about it as a shiver ran down her spine and the same spell that had taken over her husband and daughter was now taking hold of her. “And let’s not neglect these two here,” “Christine” said while firmly squeezing “her” boobs against each other. “She” then climbed onto Wendy’s bed on all fours, pulled up her dress and her panties to the side, and openly offered up “her own” snatch. “Josh, be a good son and come over here and show Mommy how much my boy has grown up?”
At last it was Josh’s turn. Before he could really process the actions unfolding in front of him, he was no longer in control of his body. “Don’t mind if I do!” “Josh” replied eagerly. As fast as lightning “he” walked over to his mother, dropped his pants, and slammed his rock-hard errection into her sloppy slit. Christine, now back in control of her body, was overwhelmed with the pleasurable sensation of her son’s girthy member ramming in and out of her. When she felt her son mauling her big tits from behind, she went completely limp in his arms, as the last of her will left her while “her son” kept hammering her hole. Eventually, they both climaxed at the same time and Christine felt her son’s hot fluids spread throughout her inside.
--------------------------------------------------------
That same night it was raining cats and dogs. Gilbert and Josh, equipped with spades, dug a hole in their backyard to dispose of Wendy’s corpse while Christine and “Alice” watched from the kitchen window.
The four of them would spend the rest of their lives living in fear and terror, as Wendy forced them to live out all of her depraved sex fantasies between sister and brother, father and daughter, mother and son, mother and daugher, and even between father and son.
Eventually, when the last of her family members had passed on, Wendy continued to live on as a formless presence, taking over other people, until the end of time.
It was in the very early morning hours. The whole house was pitch-black and its inhabitants were fast asleep, except for one. The only source of light was the glow emenating from a computer monitor. It illuminated Wendy’s face and the strands of greasy hair glued to it. The synthetic light just faintly revealed the mess in her room: the moldy plates, empty take-out boxes, and dirty clothes, all of which were freely intermixed and strewn about.
Wet sounds and a pungent smell filled the air. Wendy sat in her computer chair in just her underwear and masturbated while playing an erotic dating simulator. She had been an avid fan of video games, especially story-driven ones like visual novels, since she was a kid, but since the twenty-three-year-old failed out of college and moved back in with her parents, she had done nothing but sit in front of her computer and play video games all day long.
She used to be somewhat pretty, but she let herself go quite a bit when she essentially barricaded herself into her old childhood room, only ever leaving to use the bathroom. Since then, she had been escaping more and more into the virtual world of various video games, desperately trying to escape her failures in the outside world. The easily achievable goals in those games provided her with at least a fake sense of fullfilment and purpose.
Initially, she stuck to regular video games and story-driven visual novels. But since moving back home, she got fairly addicted to romantic dating simulators, which provided her a with a substitute for the type of relationship she longed for but could not achieve in real life. Things took even more of a downturn when, a few months ago, after having played through virtually all visual novels, she checked out her first incest-themed eroge, a genre she had not paid any attention to before, but now felt compelled to in order to avoid spending any second alone with her own thoughts.
Right in that moment she was playing through a scene where the main character’s adorable little sister snuck into her older brother’s bed and snuggled up to him under the covers. The game quickly turned erotic and, in response, Wendy let out a long, deep grunt, signaling her climax.
To recuperate from her self-satisfaction, Wendy leaned back into her chair and looked up at her dimmly-lit ceiling. After a few moments an idea popped into her head. She got up and, for the first time in a while, left her room for a reason other than to use the bathroom. She quietly crept through the dark hallway and slowly opened the door two rooms further down, trying to keep it from creaking as to not wake the person sleeping inside.
After entering the room, she managed to silently close the door behind her and then tip-toed towards the bed inside. There, she lifted the covers and carefully laid down next to her older brother Josh who was sleeping soundly. She then cozied up to him under the blanket just like she had seen the little sister do in her video game. She was now right next to him with her foul breath caressing his skin.
Wanting to recreate the scene from her video game, Wendy began carefully fishing her brother’s limp dick out of his pyjama pants and gently rubbed it until it was fully errect. She then rolled on top of him, pushed her panties aside, and stealthily slipped his dick into her hungry snatch.
Meanwhile, Josh was having the most amazing dream. In it, he found himself in an infinite, white void where he was hooking up with the most breathtakingly beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her long, brunette hair appeared to be silky-soft as it gently swayed around her slender frame with each motion, lending her an ethereal presence. The only things about her that he found more captivating than her radiant smile were her full, ripe breasts, which were practically begging to be devoured. She seemed really familiar to Josh, although he could not quite place where he had seen her before. Maybe she was an ex-girlfriend he had forgotten about. Nevertheless, he did not want to keep this unknown beauty waiting by fretting about it.
Josh and the mysterious girl had already fully shed their clothes and were eager to get things going. He laid down on the most comfortable bed imaginable, which had appeared out of nowhere without him ever noticing. Lying on his back, he watched as his dream lover expertly fondled his privates while looking up at him with hungry eyes. In no time he was ready to take her. The nameless vixen sat on top of him and began immediately riding him, placing her hands on his hard abs for support. Her hot, silky depths engulfed him completely as her smooth, hairless body writhed with pleasure. Biting her lower lip, she failed to stifle the soft moans escaping from her mouth that accompanied the expressions of extacy on her gorgeous face. They caressed Josh’s ears like the sweatest of melodies, bewitching him like a siren. The pleasure that grew in his groin was overwhelming, beyond anything he had ever experienced in real life.
Yet, something about her felt odd to him. Despite her small size and lithe body, the dreamy nymph on top of him felt unusually heavy. This bizarre fact made him realize that he was actually dreaming, which immediately ripped him from his sleep.
Completely disoriented, the only things Josh could perceive in the dark was labored breathing and groaning, and a heavy weight bouncing up and down on him. At first he hoped that this might be a continuation of his wonderful dream, but when a lurid stench crept up his nose he knew for certain that he was awake. Wanting to find out who or what was disturbing his sweet dreams, he turned to his night stand right beside his bed to turn on the light. For a few seconds the sudden presence of light blinded him like a flash of lightning. But when his eyes had acclimated to the new-found brightness, he was horrified by the ghastly figure sitting on top of him.
“Wendy!!”, Josh exlaimed as he recognized his grody younger sister straddling him, wearing only a bra and panties. Her grin was barely visible through her greasy hair and the bra that had failed to adjust to her increased size dug deeply into her chubby shape, almost cutting off circulation to her formless breasts. “What the hell are you doing in my room in the middle of the night? And why are you sitting on top of me?” Josh demanded angrily. “Oh, Josh,” was the only answer Wendy could moan, never breaking with the rhythm of her movements. Hearing these sexual sounds come from his sister’s mouth was like fingernails on a chalkboard to his ears.
Her abhorrent, yet puzzling, response made Josh’s eyes wander lower. He gagged violently when he discovered his dick was burried deep inside his sister’s rancid, unkempt snatch, even feeling her coarse pubes rubbing against his skin as she was grinding her crotch against his. He felt so repulsed by this disgusting sight that he could have projectile-vomitted every meal he had ever had in his life right in that very moment. Luckily, his stomach was completely empty or he would have made an even bigger mess out of this situation.
“Get off of me!” Josh yelled while forcefully pushing his grody sister away. Wendy fell off his dick, off his bed, and on onto the floor, landing there with a strong thud. She quickly scrambled back onto her feet. “Why did you do that?” she hissed. “That’s what I should be asking! Why were you having sex with me, Wendy? You’re my sister! That’s so fucked!” he exclaimed. “But I’m your cute little sister, bro. Don’t you find me adorable,” she said batting her eye-lids, trying to charm her brother, but somehow ending up looking even creepier.
“Eewww, you’re sick, Wendy! Sick and vile!” Josh said disgusted. “And not just that, you’re also fucking filthy. I’d rather rip my own dick off and poke my eyes out with it than have sex with you, even if we were the last two people on earth stranded on a lonely island! I wish you’d just disappear forever and leave us alone.” Her brother’s harsh remarks finally burst the fantasy that Wendy had built up in her mind over the past few months of playing eroges. The reality she tried to run from came crashing down on her right in this moment, as Josh’s cutting words hurt her deeply.
“Fine!” Wendy said scorned and full of anger. “If you want me to disappear, then that’s what I will do, I guess!” With tears of anger welling up, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Wait! Wendy! Nooo—!” Josh exclaimed, trying to stop her. But it was too late. As if something had zapped the life out of her, Wendy instantly lost all the tension in her body and collapsed face-first onto her brother’s bed. At the same time, Josh’s eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body began convulsing vigorously. Then something inside of him snapped and he, too, lost almost all the tension in his body, just barely being able to stand. His head was loosely dangling from his neck.
After a few moments of silence, Josh seemed to wake up, as both his heads slowly rose up again. But when he opened his eyes, he was no longer in control. His sister Wendy had somehow developed the powers to take over other people’s bodies during her early teenage years. At first she was shy and reluctant about them, as she used to be a gentle soul. She simply could not square it with her conscience to control other people. The most she would do was ride along in the friends or family members of a boy she had a crush on at the time. When her parents found out about her powers, they immediately scolded her and forbade her from ever using her powers. But as Wendy grew older, her parents realized that their daughter did not have any ill intentions and began relaxing about the situation.
But when Wendy failed out of college and her mental health declined, things turned scary for her family. She became more and more controlling and petulant, throwing tamper tantrums anytime anyone disturbed her or tried to tell her what to do. She also became increasingly blasé about using her powers, taking over her family, neighbors, and anyone in reach for the smallest of matters, just so she would never have to leave her room.
On a few occasions Wendy had even used her powers to blackmail people into doing what she wanted, even when she was not possessing them. Another time she had stalked a poor guy who she had become at first infatuated and then obsessed with on social media. She had followed him around as different people, watching every step he made, every second of his life for two months. She only stopped because she eventually became bored of him.
These were the myriad of reasons that her family now lived in fear of her. Her parents could not throw her out because of her powers. They themselves could not move out since all their savings were tied into their house. Their youngest daughter, Alice, refused to leave, as she did not want her parents to suffer alone. And even Josh had moved back in as a means to protect his family, which is why he now found himself not in control of his own body.
“Josh” grinned from ear to ear as he patted down “his” flat chest. “He” then flexed his biceps, admiring his own strength. Next, he grabbed his dick, which was already painfully errect, with both his hands and began firmly squeezing it. He could virtually feel the blood pulsing through the thick meat of his sizeable member. “He” then turned to the person lying on his bed and said, “I’m soooo sorry, ‘sis’. I didn’t mean to hurt you. My words came out all wrong. What I meant to say was that you are the most adorable little sister a big brother could ever wish for! Here, let me show you how much I love you.”
With that, “Josh” stepped towards Wendy’s comatose body and snaked his big, strong hands underneath her torso. “Oh, my. When did my cute little sister grow up to be such a woman?” “he” cooed while groping her flabby breasts. Without turning over her heavy frame, “Josh” glid his rough hands along her pudgy waist and onto her even wider hips, firmly grabbing ahold of them. “He” then carefully wormed his prick into “his sister’s” slimy, hairy cunt, before forcefully jamming his entire length into her unconscious flesh.
Without any further hesitation, “Josh” began viciously fucking his sleeping sister, pumping in and out of her like an animal while groaning and grunting like a bull. “He” nearly worked himself into a frenzy. Wendy’s rotten odor began reeking from all the friction and heat they created, which seemed to turn him on even more. For the next two minutes, the clapping of “his” hips against her sizeable cheeks echoed throughout the room until “he” finally hit is climax and then dumped his thick load inside of “his” sister’s gooey slit. Still inside of her, he collapsed on top of her and under heavy breathing whispered into her ear, “I love you, ‘sis’.”
--------------------------------------------------------
It was very late in the morning, almost creeping on noon, when Christine, the mother of the house, stood in the kitchen and prepared some food. She was cheerfully humming a tune while cutting up a cantalope and placing slices of ham on pieces of crispy toast. She then artfully aranged the food on a plate, in a way that was worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant. The food was not only delicious but also visually appetizing, and so was her ample bosom that was proudly put on display by a low-cut, floral sundress, which gently hugged her motherly curves.
Still humming to herself, Christine picked up the plate, left the kitchen, and went up the stairs with a joyful bounce to her step, which not only made the hem of her short dress dance around her hips and tickle her thighs but also made her opulent mounds jiggle playfully. Upstairs, she entered her daughter’s dingy room without either knocking or turning on the lights and placed the food on her desk. “Enjoy your breakfast, honey,” she whispered to a sleeping Wendy.
Without any further hesitation, Christine left her daughter’s room and headed straight to the master bedroom. Behind locked doors she made her way over to her full-sized mirror and began admiring herself. Slowly, a big, dirty grin spread across her face. “Thank you, mother, for providing me with such a healthy breakfast,” “Christine” said in a sickly-sweet tone, seemingly mocking herself. “You always taught me to eat my daily share of fruits, and your ‘melons’ are especially delicious,” she said while giving her huge globes a firm squeeze. “She” then slowly moved her hands along “her” waist and hips, closely following and enjoying every inch of her delectable curves, and then began groping her big, womanly ass. “And let’s not forget about your delicious meat! I gotta hand it to you: you got a real meatsuit of a body, mom!”
“Christine” then threw herself onto her bed and immediately began furiously masturbating, not even bothering to undress. One hand tightly squeezed her fleshy tits while the other inserted two fingers into her hungry snatch, dragging her panties along with them as they plummeted the depths of her steaming hot hole that had given birth to three children, one of which was now in control of her body and effectively molesting her own mother.
Regrettably, “Christine” soon had to remove her hand from her supple twins in order to cover her mouth and stiffle her moans, so that she would not alert the whole house to her lewd activities. Meanwhile, the other hand continued to slip in and out of her unabated. Under the assault from such intense stimulation, it did not take long for her to reach her peak, which she celebrated by letting out a long, muffled scream.
The only thing “Christine” was able to do in the immediate aftermath was to lay on her back, breathing heavily, and bask in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her panties and her hand were now drenched in her juices. But, alas, her bliss was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. “Mom, are you in there?” Josh asked loudly through the door. “Have you seen my black shirt? I’ve been looking all over for it!”
“Christine” quickly scrambled onto her feet and straightend out her dress and hair, trying to make herself look as presentable as possible, as to not tip off “her son” to what kept her so busy. She cracked the door open just barely enough to stick her head out, hiding her body behind the door and her dripping wet hand behind her back. “Have you checked the laundry? I’m pretty sure I’ve put it in the wash recently,” she answered his query. “Yeah, I did. I guess I’m gonna check again, just to be sure,” Josh said and was already turning to walk away.
“Wait!” “Christine” suddenly exlaimed a little bit too loudly, as a most devious idea popped into her head. “What?” Josh asked somewhat startled. “You’ve got a smudge on the corner of your mouth” she explained. “Where?” he said while trying to wipe the imaginary stain from his face. “No, it’s still there. Here, let me try,” she said, now fully opening the door and finally stepping out of the room.
Josh was taken by surprise when “his mother” suddenly got so close to him that she was essentially pushing her opulent chest against his torso. Looking down he saw her face with an expresssion of concentration look up at him. Underneath that he caught a glimpse of her soft pillows bulging out of the top of her dress as they were pressed flat against him.
“M–Mom, w–what are you doing?” Jost stammered, as he began to blush. “Hold still! Just let me get it real quick,” “Christine” demanded. Unbeknownst to Josh, though, the hand which “his mother” was now smearing all over his face was still coated in her sticky juices.
Since Josh was quite a bit taller than his mother, “Christine” raised herself up by standing on the tips of her toes to better reach and more closely inspect his face. In the process, she pushed her breasts even deeper into him and slid them up along his chest until their nipples were perfectly aligned with each other.
“M–Mom, s–stop it!” Josh said while struggling to get away from her, as her face was now close enough that he could feel her hot breath on his skin. “Hold still!” “Christine” demanded. “The more you move the longer it will take.” Never having been this close to his own mother, at least not since he was a child, Josh caught a whiff of her perfume which was followed by a strange, musky smell.
Coming into such intimate contact with a woman’s body made the inside of Josh’s pants swell rapidly. His dick did not care who it was, flesh was flesh. But the thought that it was his own mother’s flesh surprisingly made him grow even harder. So hard, in fact, that he was now poking her belly with his manhood.
Appaled by his own reaction, Josh pushed who he thought was his mother away from himself. “Thanks, I think it’s gone now,” he yelled out without looking at her, trying to hide that his face was now a deep crimson. He then hastily fled to his room, almost tripping over himself, as he desperately tried to escape this embarrassing situation. “Christine” on the other just chuckled to herself, as she was highly amused by “her son’s” reaction.
That night Christine and Gilbert could be heard enjoying each other throughout the house.
--------------------------------------------------------
A lot of clanking, rattling, and cursing could be heard coming from the garage. Christine had asked her husband Gilbert to look after the car, since it had been making a lot of weird noises lately and even had briefly died on her the other day. This is why Gilbert, a man in his early fifties who, despite his thinning hair and slight dad bob, had still retained some of his youthful handsomeness, was now bent over the car’s engine covered in dirt and motor oil, occasionally bonking his head on the hood of the car.
Just as he finished changing the oil, his daughter Alice walked in. Unlike her sister Wendy, Alice had always been a Daddy’s girl. She and her father had been attached by the hip to each other ever since she was born. Even throughout puberty, when most other teenagers vie for their independence, she had stayed close to her Dad who had remained a steadfast anchor for her. Even now, the twenty-year-old college student loved spending time with her father more than anything else. Ever since she was a little child, one of her favorite things to do was to sit in her father’s lap and play Super Mario Bros., earning her the nickname “princess”.
There was something about her father’s presence that was incredibly relaxing to her, which is why the slim brunette did not mind him seeing her in only a pair of yoga pants and a tight spaghetti-strap top without a bra. Her outfit revealed the outline of her nubile form in great detail, including her pert buns and her gravity-defying orbs. Even her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her top as soon as they got a taste of the chilly air inside the garage.
“Hey, Dad! Watcha doing?” Alice exclaimed with a beaming smile on her face. She threw her arms enthusiastically around her father’s waist, smushing her buoyant breasts against his soft belly in the process. “Not much,” Gilbert replied while reciprocating her loving embrace. He rocked her from side to side, thereby squishing his daughter’s youthful mounds even tighter against himself. “Your mother was complaining about the car so I thought maybe I could get the old can working again. What about you, princess? Wanna hang out with your old man?”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Alice said. “But I just came here to get a screwdriver to fix the recliner on my chair.” “Well, then don’t let me stop you,” Gilbert said and booped her on the nose, coating its tip with black grease from his dirty hands. When they released their embrace and Alice made her way towards the shelf on the other side of the garage, Gilbert watched his daughter’s backside and discovered that he had accidentally smeared black grease all over her. Most of it covered her shoulders and upper arms, but some of it even got on her lower back.
The tool she was looking for was located on the top-most shelf, so Alice had to really stretch herself to reach up high. But, it was not enough, as she was still missing a few inches. She then tried jumping up and down, making her luscious body, and especially her firm cheeks, shake vigorously every time she returned to the ground. Yet, she still came up short. For a while, Gilbert closely eyed his daughter’s antics before he walked over to her and said, “Here, let me help you with that.”
Alice suddenly yelped as her father, without warning, scooped up her tight little butt with his big, strong hands, and lifted her up high. His palms essentially provided a seat for her from which she comfortably could reach the tool she needed. Gilbert then gently put her down again, leaving two big, greasy handprints on his daughter’s rear.
Her father’s sudden display of strength left Alice a bit frazzled. For a moment she just stood there in silence, still facing away from him. She did not know what was happening to her. As a kid she had loved being picked up by her Dad and would cling to him like a koala. But that was ages ago. Now that she was fully grown she felt differently. No man had ever handled her like that, lifting her entire adult weight so easily. It somehow made her heart beat much faster and left her short of breath. She tried to swallow down those strange feelings, yet she still blushed when she tucked her long, brunette hair behind her ears.
Alice was in the middle of turning to face her father, wanting to ask him what that was all about, when she suddenly felt as if her feet were knocked away from under her legs, making her trip and fall chest-first towards him. Gilbert instinctively tried to catch her fall, but by doing so his daughter’s perky mounds landed squarely on his big, greasy hands. His dirty palms molded themselves perfectly around the swell of her pliable breasts. Alice thought she might be going crazy, but she could have sworn she had felt her Dad give her boobs a firm squeeze. Nevertheless, her nipples still visibly stiffened.
“Uhm, … Dad?” Alice squeaked with her father’s hands still cupping her twins. “Yes, princess? Are you alright?” Gilbert asked with worry on his face. “Yeah, … I guess so …,” she mumbled while getting back on her own feet. When Gilbert’s hands finally disconnected from his daughter’s body, they revealed yet another pair of big, black handprints, this time squarely on her chest.
“Are you sure? You seem kinda out of it,” Gilbert said while trying to feel his daughter’s forehead with the back of his hand. Alice swatted his hand away more aggressively than she had intended. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said with a bit of agitation in her voice. “I …, uh …, I need to change.”
Unable to deny the heat welling up inside of her, Alice tried to leave as quickly as she could, but on her way out her Dad surprised her yet again by giving her a not-so-fatherly pat on her ass. She turned her head around one last time and to give her “father” a quizzical look, but the expression on his face betrayed nothing but paternal intentions. Yet, as soon as she had left the garage, “Gilbert’s” warm expression turned sinister and a big, wet stain began to form on the crotch of his pants.
--------------------------------------------------------
It was late at night. Christine and Gilbert had gone out earlier that evening and were not expected to return until the next morning, leaving the “kids“ home alone. The whole house was wrapped in silence, except for the blaring of the TV coming from the living room. Josh sat alone on the couch watching a movie when Alice came shuffling into the room. She was completely draped in a giant blanket, dragging a long train behind her, making it almost look like a wedding dress.
“Heeeyy, Josh. What are you doing?” Alice asked drowsily. “Oh, nothing much. Just watching a movie. What’s up with you? Why the huge-ass blanket?” her brother responded. “I’m a little cold. Mind if I join you?” “Sure. Be my guest” he said patting the spot next to him and then placed his arm on the back of the couch. She took up his offer and sat down beside him, putting up her legs and angling them to the side, all while making sure to never leave the comforting warmth of her blanket.
“Oh, hey, isn’t that the movie we used to watch a lot as kids?” Alice asked. “Yeah,” Josh responded. “I happened to come across it while I was flipping through the channels.” “Boy, I haven’t seen it in years. I completely forgot about it. I remember we used to watch it every time it was on. I even used to scour the TV magazines so that I always knew when to catch it,” Alice said excitedly. “Yeah, I’ve been watching it only for a few minutes, yet there are so many lines that come back to me just seconds before they show up in the movie,“ Josh said joining in on the excitement.
The two siblings kept laughing and joking, quoting lines from the movie as they appeared on screen, and reveling in old memories. After sharing lots of heartfelt moments, Alice suddenly asked her brother, “Are you cold, too?” Without waiting for an answer, she began covering him with the excess half of her blanket. “Here, let me give you some of my blanket. That’ll warm you up in no time.” “Well, I wasn’t really cold. But, thanks, I guess,” the young man commented.
Underneath the blanket, Alice sidled up closer to her brother and put her head on his shoulder. They had always gotten along great, yet he was somewhat surprised about how she was acting chummier than usual. But since they were sharing a deeply bonding moment, he didn’t question it any further. Sitting like that with his sister felt comfortable to him, making him relax deeply, and allowing himself to completely get lost in the movie.
For the rest of the night, the two of them kept watching the movie in silence. When it was over, Josh’s immersion finally broke and he came back to the real world. He switched off the TV and was about to turn towards his sister when he noticed that the top of her head was right underneath his nose. Somehow she had sneakily wrapped her arms around his waist and had fallen asleep with her head nestled against his chest. Most of her body laid on top of him in a tight embrace.
Alice’s gentle snores reminded Josh of a cat’s soft purrs. He thought that, in this moment, his little sister was the most adorable. But when the sweet fragrance of her peach-flavored shampoo invaded his nose, it caused something to stir deep inside of him, in a place completely unbeknownst to him. To his shock, he began to grow hard.
Confused about his feelings, Josh just sat there, not daring to make a move. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Alice woke up. Rustling underneath the blanket she looked up at him with bleary eyes. When the vision of her brother’s face came into focus she greeted him with a beaming smile. For a long moment, they just gazed at each other wordlessly. Her big, glimmering eyes looked up at him longingly, which made him blush and melted away all his natural defences. He was now at full mast.
Josh then watched in slow-motion how his sister closed her eyes and moved in closer. When he felt her tender lips on his, he was completly stunned. His jaw dropped in shock, which Alice interpreted as an invitation to sneak her tongue into his mouth. At first he went along with it by pure instinct. But when it finally sank in that he was, in fact, really kissing his sister, he shoved her away in panic, making the blanket slip down a bit, uncovering her bare shoulders.
“Stooooppp!!” Josh yelled. “What are you doing? You’re my sister! We can’t be doing that!” Tears began welling up in Alice’s eyes in response to his sudden outburst. “But Josh …,” she whimpered. “Don’t you love me?” She looked at him expectantly with her watery eyes. “Nooo!!!” he continued yelling. “I-I-I mean, y-yes, I-I m-mean, no!” he stammered. “Aarghh! I don’t love you like thaaat!”
Alice dropped her head seemingly in defeat. But something about her demeanor changed, like a shadow was cast over her eyes. Suddenly Josh felt something scurrying around his scrotch underneath the blanket. He realized it was his sister’s hands trying to undo his belt and zipper. Now even more panicked, he pushed her away more forcefully than before, accidentally throwing the blanket off of her in the process and revealing that she had been naked underneath.
“Alice!! Why the hell are you naked?!?! What is wrong with you today?” Josh kept yelling. With a dark, menacing grin forming on her face, she growled at him, “You better let this happen. We don’t want her to find herself in a compromising situation, do we?” “Wendy…,” Josh gasped, the words getting stuck in his throat. His mind was sent on a rollercoaster, desperately struggling for a solution on how to get out of this situation. But deep down, Josh knew he had nothing against her powers.
Completely dejected, Josh finally resigned himself to his fate. “Alice”, on the other hand, squealed with excitement and, like a child ripping open a present on christmas, frantically tried to get her brother’s dick out of his pants. When she finally freed it from its denim prison, his rigid member sprung out with the energy of a coil spring. She then swung one of her smooth legs over her brother and placed herself squarely on top of him.
Without any further hesitation, “Alice” slowly lowered her unclad, nubile form towards her brother’s penis. His bulbous head at first just barely kissed her velvety folds, but then gently parted them, and finally, by completely piercing her labia, desecrated that holy bond between brother and sister.
“Wendy, we have to stop this! We’re not wearing any protection!” Josh tried to protest one last time. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure this little slut is on birth control” “Alice” hissed. She was straining to force herself down her brother’s girth. “Hhnnnnnghhhoooohhhh my god she is so tight” she said panting. “She must still be a virgin. Well, not anymore, hehe.” Her small, hairless lips formed a tight seal around his thick shaft. To keep going further, she arched her back and angled her hips for maximum penetration.
When she finally bottomed out, “Alice” grabbed Josh’s head and started giving him a deep passionate kiss. Her long, brown hair draped over them, curtailing the world from seeing the forbidden intimacy they were sharing. While they kept kissing, “Alice” started to moan into his mouth, as she began slowly working her way up and down her brother’s shaft. The more their friction and passion increased, the more she ruffled his hair, her hands’ movements becoming more and more frantic.
Meanwhile, Josh moved his hands down his sister’s bare back and glid them first along her waist, then her hips, and finally around the sensual curve of her butt. He gave her firm cheeks a strong squeeze, while at the same time supporting her petite body with his manly hands. At last, he finally gave in to his new-found, forbidden desires and started humping his sister in sync with the rhythm of her movements.
Getting wetter by the second, “Alice’s” juices by now provided enough lubrication for her to easily glide along her brother’s member. She broke off their kiss, sat upgright, and began to drastically increase her speed. As she was bouncing up and down on Josh’s dick, her perky tits kept jiggling wildy about. To aleviate that, she took her brother’s hands and firmly placed them on top of her shapley breasts. He eagerly accepted her offer and began digging his fingers deeply into the tender flesh of his sister’s swollen boobs, ferociously groping and squeezing them like a man who lost all his inhibitions.
Greed seemed to overtake Josh, as he followed his sister’s lead by sitting upright and then tightly embracing her lithe body while she kept viciously riding his cock. Hungrily, he placed his mouth on her delicious breasts and began sucking and licking and biting her nipples, practically devouring her boobs and almost swallowing them whole. His sister rewarded him by giving off a series of high-pitched moans and clamping down on his dick.
“Wendy …,” Josh gasped short of breath and inbetween sucking his sister’s nipples. “What is it, bro?” Alice moaned. “I don’t… I don’t think I can hold it any lo—” was the last thing Josh managed to say before he finally errupted inside his sister like a volcano, spraying his creamy spunk all over his her insides. Feeling her brother’s hot goo coating her inner walls set off “Alice’s” own orgasm, making her join him in his extacy. Her body, which was glistening from all the excertion, began shaking from top to bottom as if a current of electricity ran through her.
When the tension suddenly left her body, “Alice” collapsed on top of her brother. Completely drained, she nestled her head against his chest, breathing heavily and with strands of her sweat-drenched hair sticking to her face. “I love you, Josh,” “Alice” whispered sweetly. “I love you, too,” he sighed unconvincingly. His dick was still inside deep his sister, refusing to go limp.
--------------------------------------------------------
For the past month there had been a large shadow hanging over their household. Wendy’s shenanigans had sowed mistrust and uneasiness among the members of her family. It all came to a head when Alice finally confronted her brother. “Josh, I’m begging you: please tell me the truth!” Alice pleaded. “What’s going on? Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t even look me in the eyes anymore.” “I said, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Josh hissed without even facing her. His eyes were red and on the verge of tears.
Gilbert and Christine heard their children argue, so they went to investigate. “What’s going with the two of you? Why are you making so much noise?” Gilbert said as he stepped into the room. “Josh, has been avoiding me for weeks now and he won’t tell me what his problem is,” Alice said unnerved. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that, too. Care to explain yourself, son?” Gilbert asked.
Josh tried to block off their barrage of questions, but, after being relentlessly corned by three people, he eventually broke down in tears and confessed how Wendy had taken control of Alice and forced himself onto her, and how he had been unable to resist. The entire room fell silent. Alice’s stomach turned, sickening her to her core. Gilbert was simply stunned, the news leaving his mind completely blank.
Christine, on the other hand, felt an uncontrollable rage explode inside of her. “That’s it!” she yelled with tears of anger in her eyes. “This is way over the line! I’m so sick and tired of her shit. This has to end now!” “Wait! Where are you going?” Gilbert said to the afterimage of his wife as she had already rushed out of the room. The rest of them slowly began to follow her, one after the other, still trying to process the information they had just received.
An absolutely livid Christine stomped furiously down the hallway and violently barged into her daughter’s room, almost knocking the door out of its hinges. There, Wendy laid on her bed and, like so often, just slept. Without waiting for her to wake up, Christine swiftly approached her sleeping daughter, wrapped her hands around her throat, and began strangling her with all her might. Wendy did not seem to make any signs of struggling against her mother’s assault.
“How could you do that?” Christine sobbed uncontrollably as rivers of tears streamed down her face. “I loved you with all my heart. Why did you become such a hateful peson? Where did I go wrong?” she said gritting her teeth. “This is the only way I can make things right!”
Gilbert and Josh were aghast when they stepped into the room and discovered what Christine was doing. Yet, neither of them intervened and tried to stop her. They just stood there and watched.
When everything was over, everybody went quiet again, except for Christine who was unable to stop her tears. Suddenly, Alice, who everyone seemed to have forgotten about, stepped into the room. They all looked at her in disbelief as they watched a creepy, sinister smile form on her pretty face. “No!” Christine whispered. “Actually, yes, mother,” “Alice” countered. “I’m not so easy to get rid of, you see.” “No!” Christine repeated, this time more emphatically. “And from now on, you will all do exactly as I tell you or the police might get an anonymous tip about what has happened to your dearest daughter. Remember this for the rest of you lives: you got blood on your hands, literally, and I won’t hesistate to take any one of you down!” “Alice” said menacingly. It finally dawned on Christine, Gilbert, and Josh that there was no way of escaping Wendy and that they had to resign themselves to the fact that their lives were now fully under her control, essentially making them her personal slaves.
Meanwhile, “Alice”, who was relishing in the power she had over her family, sauntered over towards her father and lifted the front of her skirt, exposing “her” panty-clad pussy. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, Daddy,” she whispered with lust dripping in her voice. Both of her small, feminine hands then reached out and grabbed one of her father’s big, manly hands and slowly guided it underneath her skirt and panties and gently placed it onto her already sopping wet pussy. Gilbert was too stunned to stop her, and even if he had not been, he would not have dared to go against her.
Suddenly, both Alice and Gilbert shuddered simultaneously. “We sure will, princess,” “Gilbert” said with a lecherous expression on his face. “He” then slipped a finger inside “his” daughter’s smooth folds and began aggressively fingering her hole. The real Alice was dazed and confused when she finally came to again. “D–Dad?” she stammared. “W–What’s going o–o–oooohhhhnnggg?!” she moaned, being overwhelmed by an unexpected orgasm as her “father” quickly sent her over the edge.
Christine was horrified as she watched her husband molest their daughter in front of her eyes. Unfortunately, she was unable to do anything about it as a shiver ran down her spine and the same spell that had taken over her husband and daughter was now taking hold of her. “And let’s not neglect these two here,” “Christine” said while firmly squeezing “her” boobs against each other. “She” then climbed onto Wendy’s bed on all fours, pulled up her dress and her panties to the side, and openly offered up “her own” snatch. “Josh, be a good son and come over here and show Mommy how much my boy has grown up?”
At last it was Josh’s turn. Before he could really process the actions unfolding in front of him, he was no longer in control of his body. “Don’t mind if I do!” “Josh” replied eagerly. As fast as lightning “he” walked over to his mother, dropped his pants, and slammed his rock-hard errection into her sloppy slit. Christine, now back in control of her body, was overwhelmed with the pleasurable sensation of her son’s girthy member ramming in and out of her. When she felt her son mauling her big tits from behind, she went completely limp in his arms, as the last of her will left her while “her son” kept hammering her hole. Eventually, they both climaxed at the same time and Christine felt her son’s hot fluids spread throughout her inside.
--------------------------------------------------------
That same night it was raining cats and dogs. Gilbert and Josh, equipped with spades, dug a hole in their backyard to dispose of Wendy’s corpse while Christine and “Alice” watched from the kitchen window.
The four of them would spend the rest of their lives living in fear and terror, as Wendy forced them to live out all of her depraved sex fantasies between sister and brother, father and daughter, mother and son, mother and daugher, and even between father and son.
Eventually, when the last of her family members had passed on, Wendy continued to live on as a formless presence, taking over other people, until the end of time.
possession
+4 more
1
7.4K
799
2
0
A father and his daughter rekindle their relationship.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
mind control
+1 more
1
3.5K
120
1
0
Two nerds get revenge on their bullies by taking over their bodies with mind control powers.
“What the fuck is this supposed to be, you little shits?!” an angry female voice hissed. Milo’s and Rayleigh’s day was about to get worse as they got pushed hard against the metal doors of their lockers. The two 18 year old high school seniors had hoped that their final school year might see an uptick to their popularity, but the two scrawny nerds still had trouble getting along with anyone besides each other. They had an especially troubling “relationship” with two of their classmates: Jenna and Bianca.
They, in stark contrast to Milo and Rayleigh, were two of the most popular girls in the school. And of course, they were as beautiful as they were popular. The reason for their popularity, besides their superb looks, was that they were the star athletes of their high school, which not only gave them amazing physiques but also incredible strength. At least so it seemed to Milo and Rayleigh, as they stood no chance against them with their thin arms. And even if they would defend themselves, the jocks would just kick their asses in retaliation, making this a lose-lose situation for them. Although both of the girls were only a little taller than the boys, it still felt to Milo and Rayleigh as if they were towering over them. They had been using that fact for years to bully and abuse Milo and Rayleigh.
But this side of their personalities was only known to Milo and Rayleigh. Jenna and Bianca used their good looks to hide behind a facade. You see, they were not just intimidating. They were also intimidatingly beautiful. For everyone else they put on an act, pretending to be these sweet, innocent girls, who you could not help but be smitten by. But in reality they were conniving and cruel clout-chasers, always trying to be on top of everyone else, while simultaneously pretending to be humble.
Jenna was a tall caucasian girl with piercing blue eyes. Her fair complexion was contrasted by her long, dark brown hair. Her overall slender and well-trained physique was crowned with large, perky breasts. Despite her ample blessings, she was a formidable gymnast, which made her body incredibly flexible.
Next to her stood her best friend and partner in crime: Bianca. She was in every way Jenna’s complement. As an African-American she, of course, had dark skin, which made Jenna sometimes look almost ghostly pale by comparison. Unlike Jenna, who wore her hair straight, Bianca had curly black hair that she would usually tame by putting it in a ponytail, just as she was doing now. And even though Bianca was not as well-endowed as the top-heavy Jenna, she made up for it with a big butt and her strong thighs, which came in handy, as she was part of the school’s soccer team, where she scored goal after goal for her team, leading them to an easy victory almost every game.
While Jenna was more dominant and hands-on when it was time to bully their victims, Bianca was still no less intimidating in her supporting role. Just a look from her could send shivers down your spine.
“This is gonna tank my GPA! You better make up for this on the next assignment or else you gonna pay for this!” Jenna threatened. Milo and Rayleigh had been quite busy lately, which was the reason why they had not been able to properly do Jenna’s and Bianca’s homework. The girls had forced them to do their assignment for them since middle school. The two boys were left standing there in fear, as the two beauties walked off and into the arms of their jock boyfriends. Despite their height, both girls had to stand on their toes to reach their boyfriends’ lips.
“Are these twerps bothering you?” one of the jocks asked pointing to Milo and Rayleigh. “No, not at all. They’re just helping us out with our homework. Be nice to them, pleeease?” Jenna said as she smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. Towards their boyfriends they acted all sweet, but as soon as they turned their heads, Jenna and Bianca stared daggers at Milo and Rayleigh. Then they pulled their boyfriends away and left.
“Fuck this!” Milo said while kicking his locker in frustration. “Aren’t we supposed to be stronger than them? Aren’t we supposed to be men? I mean, look at us. For how long is that supposed to go on?”
“I know dude!” Rayleigh agreed. “If only we could make them pay for all the things they’ve done to us. I for sure would love to rub it in their phony faces while they can only stand there and do nothing about it.”
Their curses were interrupted by the bell ringing. “Anyway,” Rayleigh said, “let’s go to class. We don’t wanna be late. It’s enough that Jenna and Bianca are kicking our asses. There is no need for the teacher to join in.”
______________________________
After another long and tiring day at school, Rayleigh threw his backpack onto his bed in frustration, when he heard his mother shout, “Rayleigh!” “What?!” Rayleigh shouted back. “Come down here at once!” He defiantly dragged his feet down the stairs as he knew he would get an ear full from his mother, which he was in no mood for, since he had already been put down by two women just this morning.
“How often have I told you to put your dirty dishes in the dish washer?” his mother scolded him. “Yes, mooom …”, he sighed in frustration. “I don’t ask you to do much around the house. You should be able to do at least this much work.” In his mind Rayleigh snapped back, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just shut up and put away the dirty dishes yourself?” Suddenly his mother, as if a jolt shot through her body, jerked into a perfectly upright position and then started wordlessly putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer.
Rayleigh just watched her silently, not understanding what was happening. When she was done he mumbled, “thanks, I guess …,” and quickly walked away, as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. His mother was too confused about what had just happend that she let her son take off without another word.
Rayleigh turned around a corner and then stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What the hell just happened?” Rayleigh thought. “Could it be …? There is no way … But it couldn’t be just a coincidence! I’ve got to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.” He peeked around the corner and back into the kitchen. His mother was still there, cleaning up some stuff with her back turned towards him. “Stop what you’re doing and stand on one leg,” he commanded in his mind. Immediately his mother stopped what she was doing and started balancing on one leg. “What am I doing?” was all she could mutter in confusion. “Show four fingers behind your back. No two!” His mother quickly shot her arm behind her back and raised four of her fingers, then immediately put down two of them. “Why am I doing this?” his mother wondered aloud.
“No shot, is this for real? I wonder how far I can take this.” Rayleigh thought almost audibly. Then he gave his mother another command. “Mom, turn around and stand still. When I walk back into the kitchen you will neither see nor hear me. I will be totally invisible to you.” His mother turned around as commanded and stood stiff like a statue. Rayleigh took this as his sign to walk back into the kitchen. He stood in front of her and waved his hand an inch from her face, but she did not react at all. In fact, she didn’t even blink. “Wow, this is so cool,” he said with amazement.
Then a strange idea popped into his mind. “Mom, I want your mind to be completely blank, like if you were hypnotized.” With that his mother’s posture became less rigid and the expression on her face became vacant. “Now, when I snap my fingers I want you to become as aroused as you’ve never have been before in you life.” Rayleigh paused for a moment, just to build some anticipation and tension for himself, and then—snap!
From one moment to the next his mother turned from a blank canvas into a depraved animal. Her face contorted with pleasure and her nipples stiffened, visibly poking through the fabric of her shirt. Then she started moaning deeply and pressed her thighs together. “Oh my god! Oooohhh!” she roared.
While he watched his mother being ravaged by ecstasy, glee started spreading on Rayleigh’s face as he felt a feeling of power flooding his body and mind. “Stop!” he exlaimed—and so she did. “When I leave the kitchen you will be back to your normal self and forget everything that happened since you called me downstairs.” He walked out and stopped right around the corner, just as before, so he could watch what was about to unfold next.
“What happened? Where did the dirty dishes go?” Rayleigh’s mother said startled with confusion. To her it felt as if she had experienced a jump cut in real life. One second she was about to call her son down to put away the dishes, the next they seemed to have vanished. On top of that her legs felt wobly. She put a hand to her forhead and feelt some of the residual heat from her indecent acts just moments prior. “I think I don’t feel so good. Maybe I need to lie down.”
As she moved to leave the kitchen, Rayleigh quietly fled up the stairs and back into his bedroom before his mother could discover him, and maybe suspect something. Inside his room he pressed one ear against the door to listen for his mother’s footsteps. After she had safely passed by his room, he quietly cracked open the door a tiny bit and peeked outside. He just barely caught his mother entering his parent’s bedroom and closing the door behind her.
“Wow! This is amazing! I have mind control powers!” Rayleigh could not help but say aloud. “All the things that I’ll be able to do now! Wait, what can I do? Maybe I should try this out some more. I need to figure out what I can and what I can’t do. I guess I need to draw up some kind of plan with stuff that I wanna try out. But who to test this on?” He thought for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. “Damn! Too bad no one else is around, who I could use as a guinea pig. And I don’t wanna wait around ’til tomorrow. This stuff is too good to pass on. I guess mom will have to do.”
Rayleigh was giddy with excitement. He could not hold back and wanted to go all out immediately. He wondered if was able to have ultimate control over someone else: to project his mind onto them. For that he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated really hard. He imagined his mind streaming towards his mother in her bedroom. Then he felt a pull and his entire being seemed to shoot forward at great speed. This feeling stopped as quickly as it began, as he seemed to halt abruptly.
When Rayleigh opened his eyes, he at first felt a little disoriented. After blinking a few times his vision came back in focus and he could see two big lumps protruding in front of him. He cautiously prodded one with his fingers, which confirmed to him that they were real. He gave both of them an appreciative squeeze.
“Oh my! What is going on?” he could hear his mother’s voice say in his head. This surprised him and snapped him back into reality. As he looked up and around he saw that he was in his parent’s bedroom, sitting on their bed. But besides him there was no one there.
Rayeleigh looked down again to take a closer look at his stolen body. His hands now looked more feminine but also older and a bit wrinkly. He roamed them all over his new proportions. Every inch of it screamed that he was not a scrawny nerd boy anymore, but a full-bodied woman. “Stop it, me! What are you doing?” his mother’s voice pleaded as she seemed unable to control her own hands. But her son ignored her. He enjoyed this feeling of power way too much.
After satisfying his immediate curiosity, he got up and walked towards his mother’s full-length mirror. With every step he could feel the jiggling of the new weight on his chest and around his hips. When he reached the mirror and finally got a full view of himself, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Instead of seeing himself he saw his mother with her mouth wide open and an expression of shock on her face.
“I can’t believe this worked! This is so rad!” Rayleigh whispered in his mother’s voice. He rubbed his stolen hands all over his mother’s face, as if to make sure that he was not wearing a mask that was to come off any second. Then he twisted her body to inspect her plump rear in the mirror. This contorted pose in a weird way made his mother look like a girl posing for her Instagram feed. “Dammit! What is happening? Why can’t I control my own body!” his mother’s voice cried in desperation.
Rayleigh then resumed a more upright posture and started lightly brushing down his mother’s body, as if to remove some creases in her outfit and make her look more prim and proper. Then, without a warning, he launched into a tirade. Anger and scorn now clouded his mother’s otherwise soft features. He pointed her index finger in the air and wagged it wildly.
“Rayleigh, didn’t I tell you to clean your room! Rayleigh, why isn’t your laundry done, yet? Rayleigh, clean the kitchen! Rayleigh, do this! Rayleigh, do that! Rayleigh, how often have I told you? Rayleigh, I forbid you!” His scolding of himself seemed to go on forever when, suddenly, his little role-playing made Rayleigh explode with laughter, which caused his mother’s boobs to shake according to its rhythm.
“As much as I enjoy this,” Rayleigh thought to himself while wiping away a tear of joy, “I think I better leave. I don’t want to torture mom too much.” With that he closed his eyes and concentrated again. He again felt the same pull and the same acceleration as earlier. When he snapped back into his own body on his own bed, a sinister grin formed on his face. “This is going to be good!”
______________________________
Milo was walking through the school’s hallways alone. He was on his way back to class from his trip to the bathroom. Somehow he had not seen Rayleigh all day long. He would not even reply to his text messages.
Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. The surprise left him no time to brace himself for the impact as he hit the floor hard. His elbow was bruised and a little bit of blood ran down his nose. He groaned in pain as he turned on his back trying to get up. But then he discovered the reason for his fall: Jenna and Bianca were standing over him, towering, casting their tall shadows on him. Their legs looked like giant marble pillars. For Milo, their height difference now seemed insurmountable from all the way down there. But this perspective also allowed him to almost see up their skirts. Did he catch a glint of their underwear?
“What did I tell you, you little scum?” Jenna angrily spat at him. “This assignment was even worse than the last one,” she said in a threatening tone. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you don’t wanna listen, you’re gonna have to feel … pain, that is!”
And with that, Jenna lifted her leg and slammed her foot down on Milo’s scrotum with full force. He winced in agony. But even through all his pain and humiliation, he somehow still felt a tingle of arousal building inbetween his legs. His member began to stiffen.
Jenna felt Milo’s hardness growing underneath her sneaker. “Oh my god! Is this turning you on?” Jenna laughed with disgust. “Ew, what a pervert!” Bianca chimed in. Jenna kept her foot on his genitalia, pressing further down to rub in the pain. “Yeah, you like that? Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?”
With anger, Jenna kept repeatedly stepping on his groin. As he groaned, the feelings inside Milo kept rising and rising, growing ever more intense. Then suddenly, a large stain formed on his pants, as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to ejaculate and a moan to escape his lips. When she realized what had happened, Jenna said, “Ew, now you’ve even ruined my shoes,” and began wiping them on his shirt.
Suddenly they were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Quickly, as the crowds were pouring into the hallways, Jenna pulled Milo to his feet. Then, to make sure that everyone could hear her, Jenna said loudly, “I think you’re really nice, Milo, and an awesome person. Thank you for confessing your feelings for me, but unfortunately, I can’t reciprocate them. You see, I already have a boyfriend. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Then Jenna smiled at him and gave him a big hug in front of everybody. To everyone else this looked like one of her sweet acts of kindness. But, what no one but Milo could hear, was what she whispered in his ear. “Don’t think you’re done here. This is far from over.”
As Jenna released Milo from her hug, the huge stain on his pants became visible to everyone around them. The students in the crowd started giggling and laughing, one after the other. Some of them even pointed their fingers at him. “Did he wet himself?” someone shouted. “What a loser!” “Guys, don’t be mean to him!” Jenna said to the crowd, pretending to defend him. “This can happen to anyone. It’s a little accident, nothing to be ashamed of!” Her boyfriend, who had wittnesed everything, walked up to them and said, “Jenna, you’re way too nice to him. Don’t go near that loser or his dorkiness will rub off on you.” “I’m sorry, Milo. I have to go. See you next time,” Jenna said as her boyfriend pulled her away, with Bianca following suit.
Milo could not hold it in any longer. Tears of hurt and humiliation started to stream down his face uncontrollably. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed for never standing up to his bullies, but most of all, ashamed for getting aroused by his humiliation. Milo started to run away, trying to escape everyone’s looks. He just wanted to hide forever, somewhere where no one could find him, so that he would never have to show his face in public again.
On his way out of the school he ran past Rayleigh. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh tried to greet him, but Milo didn’t seem to hear him and just kept running. “What’s going on?” Rayleigh called after him.
______________________________
Milo was lying on his bed, crying. Today had been just too much. He thought about running away and leaving everything behind when someone knocked on his door. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh said, “it’s me, open up!” “What do you want?” “I heard about what happened and I wanna see if you’re okay. Come on, let me in!”
Milo slowly got up and unlocked his door. He wiped away his tears and said, “Man, where were you this morning, I could have used some help!” “I’m sorry,” Rayleigh said, “but I couldn’t help it. Something important came up.” “Yeah? How important could it be?” “Very important! Actually, very important to you, too. And it’s just the thing to help you—us—out of our current situation. I know a way how we can get revenge on those two bitches.” “Yeah? How?” “I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me, but … I’ve just found out that I got mind control powers.”
“Oh shut up!” Milo said not believing a single word. “You know, if you didn’t wanna help you didn’t have to come over. But making fun of me is just mean!” he said. “No, I swear! It’s actually real!” Rayleigh tried to counter. “Here, let me show you.”
Suddenly, Milo stuck his hands to his sides and started flapping his arms like a bird. Then he started strutting around the room, cocking his head back and forth with every step. Next, his torso jerked forward and he started bumping his nose into the ground. As a final flourish he even started clucking like chicken. “Ahahaha! Man, you look so ridiculous. If you could see yourself!” Rayleigh said with laughter. After about a minute of that, Rayleigh released his grip over his friend.
Finally operating under his own free will again, Milo said with some fear in his voice, “Ok, ok. I guess you weren’t lying after all. This power is incredible, … but also frightening. What else can you do?” A mischievous grin spread across Rayleigh’s face. “I can do this.” And all of a sudden, Milo felt himself being catapulted out of his body and rapidly flinging off into nowhere.
When he opened his eyes again, Milo found himself inside his sister’s room. She was two years older than him and a college student. Currently she was staying over during her semester break. Milo wondered what had happened and how he got here. But his thoughts were interrupted by his sister saying, “What the hell? Why can’t I move” He could not seem to locate where his sister’s voice came from. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. On top of that, he noticed that he was unable to move, as well. Panic started to set in.
Then, without his command, his head started turning and looked around his sister’s room until his eyes abruptly stopped as they had fixated on her mirror. Again, without him doing anything, his body just got up all on its own and started walking directly across the room. With every step he felt something heavy bouncing on his chest.
When he finally arrived in front of the mirror he almost fainted from what he discovered: instead of his own reflection he saw his sister’s. Even worse, he realized, he was trapped inside her body!
“What is going on?” he heard his sister’s voice say in fear. But the strangest thing was, even though she said that, her lips had not moved at all. Instead, now her mouth said, “Oh, wow! Look at you!”. And with that his eyes started scanning his sister’s body from head to toe multiple times until they finally stopped and rested on her chest.
Then his head automatically swiveled down. One of his hands was pulling his shirt forward and he was forced took a peek at his sister’s generous cleavage. Then his hands reached up and gently squeezed the ample mounds protruding from his chest. Looking up again he had to stand there and, against his will, watch his sister grope her own breasts while she had a lecherous expression plastered across her face. Then, without a warning, she flung off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts.
“Eeeeehh! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Milo’s sister cried inside his head. “I guess this is enough of a show for today,” his sister’s body said while giving her own butt a little squeeze. “See you soon!” she added with a wink of an eye. And with that, Milo felt the same pull and acceleration as before.
Back in his own body, Milo was breathing heavily. When he started to catch his breath, he looked over to Rayleigh who asked him with a smile on his face, “So? What do you think?” “What the fuck!” Milo yelled as he punched Rayleigh “Hey, calm down, calm down,” Rayleigh said, “I was just playing around.” “This wasn’t fun! I could hear her voice! She didn’t like even one second of it, and neither did I. How am I gonna explain this to her?” Milo freaked out. “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh tried to pacify him, “I made sure to make her forget everything that happened. She won’t remember a thing.”
Rayleigh went on to explain every little detail of how he discovered his powers, what he was able to do, and the plan he had worked out to get back at Jenna and Bianca using his mind control powers. As it turned out, this was the reason why he had been missing from school this morning. “Trust me, this is going to be awesome!” Rayleigh finished. “I don’t know,” Milo said reluctantly, “I’m not so sure.”
______________________________
“And when I thought that wimp couldn’t get any more pathetic, he actually went ahead and creamed his pants! Hahaha, what a disgusting loser!” Bianca laughed hard. She and Jenna gloated at their victim’s humiliation as they were having a sleepover at Jenna’s place. They were already wearing their pajamas as they were about to go to bed. “I know,” Jenna added. “But I think I’m gonna throw away my shoes. I don’t want this pervert’s gunk anywhere near me. Too bad, I actually really liked those shoes. Welp, I’ll just gonna have to make daddy buy me a new pair. But not before I make that puny nerd pay!”
As their laughter at the misery of others slowly started to die down, Jenna noticed something bizarre. Bianca’s smile, which just a moment ago had been full of glee, was now turning sinister. “Why are you making that face?” she wanted to ask, but somehow those words never left her lips. “Wait! Why can’t I say anything? And why is Bianca smiling? Helloooo? Bianca, help!” Jenna tried to communicate to her friend, but it was in vain.
“Aaaand, we’re in!” Bianca said. “I’m still not so sure about this,” Jenna heard her own voice say. “Relax,” Bianca retorted, “just try to enjoy this. You’ll see. Before you’ll notice, you’ll come to like it. Trust me.” Then, Bianca started patting down her own breasts and took a peek inside her shirt. “Oooh, look what we have here. What a shame. Unfortunately they’re not as big as the ones I had before. And they are certainly not as big as your current ones!” Bianca said while pointing with her eyes at Jenna’s chest.
Jenna watched her head look down in response. Her enormous mounds took up almost her entire field of view. Her petite hands reached up to cup and weigh them. “They’re heavy!” her voice said. Her fingers then tried to clench into fists, but they were hindered by the soft tissue that was now compressed almost painfully. A small moan escaped her mouth. “They’re sensitive, too!” “Whoever or whatever is doing this to me, stop it immediately or you’re gonna regret this! You’re making me look like pervert,” Jenna tried to threaten the intruder inside her own head. “Bianca! Do something! Help me!”
Meanwhile in Bianca’s head, the situation did not look any better. “Jenna, stop squeezing your boobs and help me out. My body is acting weird,” Bianca’s inner voice said as she was forced to perv on her friend groping herself. “Why aren’t you answering me! Helloooo? Can you hear me?” “Sorry, Bianca, but Jenna won’t hear you”, Bianca heard her own mouth say. “You see, you’re not in control anymore. Not of others, and certainly not of yourself.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This is a sweet little thing called ‘revenge.’ Revenge for all the evil things you’ve done!” Bianca heard herself say. “I never did anything!” “Are you sure? ’cause there are two boys in your class who would beg to differ” “What? You mean those losers? Whatever we did, they deserved it!” “We didn’t deserve nothing! But you deserve everything that’s coming to you. You controlled our lives for the last few years, and now we’re going to control your bodies, until you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“So we’re being controlled? Then who is inside my body!” Jenna asked. “T-T-This is Milo,” he said, making her voice sound uncharacteristically timid. “Aaaww, hello no! My body is being controlled by this disgusting freak? Things just can’t get any worse! Now, listen here you little bitch, you get out of my body this instant or you’ll wish I was back to crushing your junk!” “Ray,” Milo said in Jenna’s voice, “I think she’s relly pissed now. Maybe we should reconsider this.” “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh said using Bianca’s body, “we’re in full control. Those are just empty threats.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “let’s gather a little–what do you girls call it in your profession?—ah yes: blackmail! I’m sure, soon you two little birds will be singing a different tune, as soon as you realize that your reputation is at stake.”
In the meantime Milo tried to get acquainted with navigating his new body. When he tried to stand up, he at first had trouble sorting out his balance, since he did not have enough time yet to get used to his new center of gravity. He almost fell over, but was able to catch to himself in time by placing his hands on the ground. If someone had walked in on them in this moment, they would have thought that Jenna was trying to immitate some four-legged animal. Both her hands and feet were firmly planted on the ground and with her legs entirely straight, her butt proudly pointed towards the ceiling.
“Wow. Her body is really flexible.” Milo said with amazement. “Look, I can touch my toes!” “That’s because she’s a gymnast,” Rayleigh reminded him. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Mmmmhhh … I wonder if can …” With that, Milo stood back upright and then slowly started bending over backwards. “Haha, look at me. I’m like some girl from a horror movie,” he said laughing in Jenna’s voice while contorting her body into all sorts of strange shapes.
Next, he wanted to try doing splits. For that he stood back up again and then slowly slid his legs apart, one forward, one backward. As his step increased and increased, his pelvis automatically inched closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he plopped down on the floor with the full lengths of Jenna’s legs touching the ground. “Amazing, this doesn’t even hurt. Not one bit!”
“So, ‘Jenna’,” Rayleigh interrupted his antics with a wink, “why don’t you show us what else you can do?” “Ok, I guess, …” Rayleigh then got out Bianca’s phone and started recording, while Milo got up and started fumbling with the buttons on Jenna’s pajamas. “Uh, sorry …, this might take a while,” Milo said blushing with nervousness. With the way the red was highlighted by her pale skin and how her blue eyes flitted around nervously, Milo made Jenna almost look like an innocent school girl right before her first recital.
“Finally!” Milo whispered as he managed to open the last button. The opening of Jenna’s now-unbuttoned shirt provided a small window revealing both the creamy skin of her taut belly and how her big, teenage breasts gently touched each other even without a bra.
“Wait, what do you plan on doing? You don’t … No! Don’t! Pleeease, stop it! Anything but that!” Jenna cried in her own head, but Milo just ignored her. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Milo started awkwardly moving Jenna’s hips to an imaginary beat while slowly sliding her shirt off her dainty shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms, and finally letting it drop to the ground.
There they were: the biggest—and first—pair of boobs the two boys had ever seen in real life. Jenna’s boobs. They were marvellous, full and perky. They looked like ripe fruit garnished by two rosy nipples. The rough movements of Jenna’s hips made them bounce up and down, hypnotizing anyone who dared to gaze upon them.
At the same time, Milo made all sorts of awkward expressions with Jenna’s face, trying desperately to make her look sexy. He even ruffled up Jenna’s hair to make her look more raunchy, but instead it looked like a mess and only added to his overall inept performance. “L-look at me, I’m J-jenna,” he said unconvincingly, “I might act all innocent around everyone else, but … um … in truth I’m a total slut.” “Nooooo! Stop it!” Jenna pleaded in desperation. “You make me look like such a loser!”
“Haha, what are you doing?” Rayleigh laughed. “You look like a total dork. Loosen up. You’re way too stiff! Here, you hold the camera. I’ll show you how it’s done!” Rayleigh said. He got up, handed Milo the phone, and then took his place.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I promise!” Bianca pleaded meekly. “Ha, fat chance!” Rayleigh said internally. “You had plenty of chance to stop over the years, but you just continued on. Now it’s payback time, baby.” His confidence all fired up, he started dancing with much more bravado than Milo had shown before him.
Next, he flung off Bianca’s shirt in one swift motion, presenting her rather modest chest. “Well,” he said mockingly, “I think we all know that ‘my’ strengths have always laid elsewhere, don’t we?” With that he faced away from the camera and started wiggling Bianca’s enormous butt, which made her pajama pants slowly slide down her hips, revealing inch by inch her big, dark buns.
As soon as Bianca’s pants hit the floor, Rayleigh started slapping her butt, sending ripples through her giant cheeks. “Look at ‘my’ ass!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Then he bent Bianca’s body forward and started twerking as hard he could, providing quite the show for the camera. “Please, no. This is humiliating.” Bianca whimpered. “I’m not like that!”
“See ‘Jenna’? That’s how it’s done. You gotta be proud of what your mama gave you!” Rayleigh said in a mock imitation of Bianca. If she were still in control of her own body, then tears would now start rolling down her face. “Hi, I’m Bianca, the star of the soccer team. When these cheek’s ain’t busy scoring goals, they be clapping for the team.” At this point Rayleigh was reveling in the control he was exerting over his former bullies.
Then, as a final act of humiliation, he strode over to Milo. He took the phone off of him and held it up high, angling it in such a way that both girls were in full view. Next, he put his other hand on the back of Jenna’s head, and then lunged in, kissing his friend deeply.
At first, Milo was caught by surprise. But then, for a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the girl’s soft lips meshing with each other and Jenna’s breast pressing against Bianca’s.
______________________________
“No, no, no, noooo!” Jenna and Bianca cried in unison. “If anyone sees this, we’re done. Pleeeease don’t do this! We beg of you! We regret what we did. We’re deeply sorry. We won’t come near you ever again. We’re also gonna make up for all that we did to you, we swear.”
Their cries snapped Milo out of their sensual entanglement. He broke off the kiss and gently pushed Rayleigh away from himself. “Ray, I think this is enough. They seem to have learned their lesson. Let’s just stop and leave. We probably have enough material to keep them in line.” “But why?” Rayleigh protested. “We’re having so much fun. Come on!” “No, I mean it,” Milo said, asserting himself for the first time in his life. “I also told you that I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. Yeah, I want to get revenge, too, but not like this!”
“Fine,” Rayleigh pouted. “But I think you’ll be changing your mind real soon about this, Jenna,” “What do you mean, Bianca?” Milo said. “And stop calling me ‘Jenna’.” A grin started spreading across Bianca’s face. “Wait, why did I call you ‘Bianca’?” Milo asked. “Because that’s my name, silly,” Rayleigh replied. “I’m Bianca and you’re Jenna.” “No, I'm not Jenna,” Milo exlaimed, “I’m Jenna! Wait … Aargh, stop it!” His heart started beating faster and fear started to settle in. “Are you doing this to me, Bianca?”
Milo felt a jolt run through his stolen body. He suddenly could not move anymore. “Wait, Bianca! Stop it. Please don’t do this!” Milo said, trapped in someone else’s head. He felt Jenna’s lips move all by themselves. “Bianca, I haven’t been honest with you,” Jenna’s body said. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve had a crush on you. I was ashamed of my feelings. You know, a girl liking a girl. I know, we live in more progressive times now. But still, what would people think? Also, I was afraid that you might hate me if I told you how I really felt. I’m still afraid. But, I can’t hide it any longer. Not anymore. Bianca, I love you!”
There was a moment of silece. “Please don’t hate me,” ‘Jenna’ pleaded quietly. “Aaaw, sweety,” Rayleigh said in Bianca’s voice, enjoying the act he made them put on. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. But now we can be more than friends. The truth is, I also liked you from the beginning. I’ve always looked forward to our sleepovers, where it’s just the two of us, all alone. And I’ve always enjoyed the way you smell each time we hugged, and feeling your warm body press against mine. Also, I’ve always secretly peeked at you when we were changing before P.E. and then thought of you when I masturbated at home. I’m just so happy that the truth is out now. Thanks to you I don’t feel ashamed anymore to admit it: I love you, too, Jenna.”
By now, Jenna’s body was a mere puppet, dancing to the pull of her master’s will. It was completely empty, devoid of any free will. Her only purpose now was to act out her role in Rayleigh’s play. Rayleigh used his powers to force tears of happiness to stream down Jenna’s face, which was glowing with joy. Then the two ‘girls’ embraced each other. “Does that mean, I’m your girlfriend now?” ‘Jenna’ asked while trying to wipe away the tears. “Of course it does!” ‘Bianca’ said while gently poking Jenna’s nose with her finger. “Now let me show what real girlfriends do.” “No, Bianca, I don’t want this. Don’t make me do this. This isn’t right,” Milo tried to say, but no one could hear him.
Then Jenna’s and Bianca’s bodies started to slowly and tenderly kiss each other. At first their lips only grazed each other reluctantly, quivering with a little nervousness. But with every soft touch, they grew more and more confident. Soon they were not just kissing anymore, but ravaging each other like animals, their moans muffled by each other’s lips and their hands wildy roaming all over each other’s bodies and through their hair. Milo could not help but feel the arousal of Jenna’s body slowly spill over into his mind.
Rayleigh placed Bianca’s chocolaty hands on Jenna’s enormous, milk-colored breasts while Jenna’s delicate hands explored the vastness of Bianca’s mighty butt. Then they stopped their kissing to give themselves a chance to catch their breath. They intensly stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Bianca’ into Jenna’s baby blue eyes and ‘Jenna’ into Bianca’s dark hazel eyes. A cheeky grin started to spread across each of their faces.
Rayeleigh took Jenna’s hand and led her over to her bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Jenna’s body onto Bianca’s lap. He slowly glid his hands along Jenna’s waist, drinking in her contours. Now on eye-level with her chest, he was completely entranced by her breasts. “Shake ’em for me,” he whispered. Against her will, Jenna’s body started shaking her boobs, causing her hefty orbs to swing from side to side. At the same time, Rayleigh started inching Bianca’s face closer and closer towards Jenna’s chest until he was nestling inbetween her soft globes, surrounded on both sides with warm flesh. Then he lifted up his stolen hands, placed them on either side of her mounds, and began pressing and squeezing them, really rubbing in feeling of their softness and making Jenna moan with pleasure.
After a small pause Rayleigh motioned Jenna’s body to get off and gently, with his hand, guided her head down inbetween his legs. Without an explicit prompt, ‘Jenna’ started softly kissing Bianca’s waiting slit. Jenna’s upper lips brushed ever so lightly against Bianca’s lower lips, as if she was teasing her. Then she started to slowly trace the tip of her tongue up and down Bianca’s opening, making it quiver with pleasure. Rayleigh started moaning in Bianca’s sultry voice as arousal welled up inside his stolen body.
‘Jenna’ then entered Bianca with her tongue and started deeply kissing her nether regions and feasting on her sweet juices. The pleasure inside Bianca’s body started rising and rising until, finally, a wave of orgams swept over Bianca’s body. “Oh, gooood!” ‘Bianca’ groaned. ‘Her’ meaty thighs clamped down abruptly on Jenna’s head, trapping her as if she was caught in a vice. The shaking of ‘her’ legs made Jenna’s head vibrate.
Rayleigh started to slowly come down from his high, breaving heavily. Basking in its afterglow, he gently caressed Jenna’s head. “Wooow … That was amaaaaazing!” he exlaimed. “You’ve done well, ‘Jenna’. I think it’s only fair that I repay you. How about a little appetizer?” He then took one of Bianca’s feet and placed it right in front of her face, nudging her lips with her big toe. “I think you like that, don’t you? Yeah, I know you like that.” The tone of Bianca’s voice started to turn domineering.
“Ew, don’t make me do this. This is disgusting!” the real Jenna thought. Milo on the other hand seemed strangely aroused by this. What he didn’t realize was that Rayleigh had weakend his grip on him quite a while ago. He had subconciously been going along with Rayleigh’s act, dutifuly playing his part. Without any further force from Rayleigh he started licking Bianca’s feet, up and down their entire sole and sucking vigorously sucking on her toes.
“Goood,” Rayleigh cooed. “Now get up, slut!” With that Milo bolted upwards and stood erect like a soldier. Then Rayleigh got up off the bed and stood in front of Milo. He reached out with both of Bianca’s hands and squeezed Jenna’s breasts hard, as if he wanted to squeeze juice out of lemons. “Ow!” Milo winced in pain. Jenna’s nipples became stiff with arousal.
Milo was still in turmoil about the morality of all of this, but he could no longer deny that it was exciting him. Then—slap, slap, slap! Jenna’s breasts jiggled widly with each hit that Rayleigh brought down on them. The pain reverberated throughout Jenna’s boobs and fuelled Milo’s rising pleasure as Bianca’s hands left increasingly redder marks on them. Rayleigh then gently rolled Jenna’s nipples inbetween his fingers. And without warning, he suddenly twisted them with a tremendous amount of force, nearly drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from Milo, as an orgasm washed over him that almost made Jenna’s knees buckle under the strain.
Rayleigh then drew a finger across Jenna’s wet slit, which made Milo shudder. He played with a string of Jenna’s juices inbetween his fingers and said, “I see someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” Milo did not dare to speak as his wildest fantasies were coming true right in this moment. All he could muster was a muffled, “mmmmhh,” while he nodded. Both Milo and Rayleigh increasingly enjoyed Rayleigh’s power trip, though for different reasons.
“Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?” Rayleigh said in a threatening tone. “I guess I’ll have to teach you!” With that, he forcefully threw Milo onto Jenna’s bed. He then took a deep breath before Bianca’s hands started raining down pain on Jenna’s ass. The intense spanking caused the heat inside of Milo to flare up again. “Yeees, harder! Harder!” Milo cried.
But before he was able to peak a second time, Rayleigh flipped over Jenna’s body onto her back. Then he grabbed the back of Jenna’s head and this time slammed it down into her own privates. He kept it there with brute force. Even though Jenna’s body was very flexible, this forced position still caused Milo considerable pain. Jenna’s breasts squished uncomfortably into her ribcage and thereby constricted her lungs. “Who told you you could talk back, you little slut?” ‘Bianca’ shouted. “Now, eat up or your mistress is gonna show you what real pain is!”
As commanded, Milo started licking Jenna’s slit, taking in her unfamiliar yet delicious taste. As his tongue explored the depths of his stolen hole, the pleasure in his body kept rising and rising. However, at the same time, his oxygen supply started to run low, as he could hardly breathe in this position. Knowing that he had only a limited amount of time, Milo drasticly increased his fervor in lapping up Jenna’s sweet juices, hoping to free himself before he passed out. In a race between hitting orgasm and suffocation, his stolen lips became slicker and slicker while his vision steadily darkenend.
But finally, in a last ditch effort, he managed to send himself over the edge and hit another orgasm before he could pass out in Jenna’s body. Rayleigh took the shaking of Jenna’s legs as a sign and pulled up her head, making Milo gasp for much needed air. “Goood girl,” Rayleigh commended ‘Jenna’ in a soothing voice while caressing her head. Milo panted heavily. “You we’re right,” he said with a deeply content smile spreading across his stolen face. “This is fun.”
“What the fuck is this supposed to be, you little shits?!” an angry female voice hissed. Milo’s and Rayleigh’s day was about to get worse as they got pushed hard against the metal doors of their lockers. The two 18 year old high school seniors had hoped that their final school year might see an uptick to their popularity, but the two scrawny nerds still had trouble getting along with anyone besides each other. They had an especially troubling “relationship” with two of their classmates: Jenna and Bianca.
They, in stark contrast to Milo and Rayleigh, were two of the most popular girls in the school. And of course, they were as beautiful as they were popular. The reason for their popularity, besides their superb looks, was that they were the star athletes of their high school, which not only gave them amazing physiques but also incredible strength. At least so it seemed to Milo and Rayleigh, as they stood no chance against them with their thin arms. And even if they would defend themselves, the jocks would just kick their asses in retaliation, making this a lose-lose situation for them. Although both of the girls were only a little taller than the boys, it still felt to Milo and Rayleigh as if they were towering over them. They had been using that fact for years to bully and abuse Milo and Rayleigh.
But this side of their personalities was only known to Milo and Rayleigh. Jenna and Bianca used their good looks to hide behind a facade. You see, they were not just intimidating. They were also intimidatingly beautiful. For everyone else they put on an act, pretending to be these sweet, innocent girls, who you could not help but be smitten by. But in reality they were conniving and cruel clout-chasers, always trying to be on top of everyone else, while simultaneously pretending to be humble.
Jenna was a tall caucasian girl with piercing blue eyes. Her fair complexion was contrasted by her long, dark brown hair. Her overall slender and well-trained physique was crowned with large, perky breasts. Despite her ample blessings, she was a formidable gymnast, which made her body incredibly flexible.
Next to her stood her best friend and partner in crime: Bianca. She was in every way Jenna’s complement. As an African-American she, of course, had dark skin, which made Jenna sometimes look almost ghostly pale by comparison. Unlike Jenna, who wore her hair straight, Bianca had curly black hair that she would usually tame by putting it in a ponytail, just as she was doing now. And even though Bianca was not as well-endowed as the top-heavy Jenna, she made up for it with a big butt and her strong thighs, which came in handy, as she was part of the school’s soccer team, where she scored goal after goal for her team, leading them to an easy victory almost every game.
While Jenna was more dominant and hands-on when it was time to bully their victims, Bianca was still no less intimidating in her supporting role. Just a look from her could send shivers down your spine.
“This is gonna tank my GPA! You better make up for this on the next assignment or else you gonna pay for this!” Jenna threatened. Milo and Rayleigh had been quite busy lately, which was the reason why they had not been able to properly do Jenna’s and Bianca’s homework. The girls had forced them to do their assignment for them since middle school. The two boys were left standing there in fear, as the two beauties walked off and into the arms of their jock boyfriends. Despite their height, both girls had to stand on their toes to reach their boyfriends’ lips.
“Are these twerps bothering you?” one of the jocks asked pointing to Milo and Rayleigh. “No, not at all. They’re just helping us out with our homework. Be nice to them, pleeease?” Jenna said as she smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. Towards their boyfriends they acted all sweet, but as soon as they turned their heads, Jenna and Bianca stared daggers at Milo and Rayleigh. Then they pulled their boyfriends away and left.
“Fuck this!” Milo said while kicking his locker in frustration. “Aren’t we supposed to be stronger than them? Aren’t we supposed to be men? I mean, look at us. For how long is that supposed to go on?”
“I know dude!” Rayleigh agreed. “If only we could make them pay for all the things they’ve done to us. I for sure would love to rub it in their phony faces while they can only stand there and do nothing about it.”
Their curses were interrupted by the bell ringing. “Anyway,” Rayleigh said, “let’s go to class. We don’t wanna be late. It’s enough that Jenna and Bianca are kicking our asses. There is no need for the teacher to join in.”
______________________________
After another long and tiring day at school, Rayleigh threw his backpack onto his bed in frustration, when he heard his mother shout, “Rayleigh!” “What?!” Rayleigh shouted back. “Come down here at once!” He defiantly dragged his feet down the stairs as he knew he would get an ear full from his mother, which he was in no mood for, since he had already been put down by two women just this morning.
“How often have I told you to put your dirty dishes in the dish washer?” his mother scolded him. “Yes, mooom …”, he sighed in frustration. “I don’t ask you to do much around the house. You should be able to do at least this much work.” In his mind Rayleigh snapped back, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just shut up and put away the dirty dishes yourself?” Suddenly his mother, as if a jolt shot through her body, jerked into a perfectly upright position and then started wordlessly putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer.
Rayleigh just watched her silently, not understanding what was happening. When she was done he mumbled, “thanks, I guess …,” and quickly walked away, as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. His mother was too confused about what had just happend that she let her son take off without another word.
Rayleigh turned around a corner and then stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What the hell just happened?” Rayleigh thought. “Could it be …? There is no way … But it couldn’t be just a coincidence! I’ve got to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.” He peeked around the corner and back into the kitchen. His mother was still there, cleaning up some stuff with her back turned towards him. “Stop what you’re doing and stand on one leg,” he commanded in his mind. Immediately his mother stopped what she was doing and started balancing on one leg. “What am I doing?” was all she could mutter in confusion. “Show four fingers behind your back. No two!” His mother quickly shot her arm behind her back and raised four of her fingers, then immediately put down two of them. “Why am I doing this?” his mother wondered aloud.
“No shot, is this for real? I wonder how far I can take this.” Rayleigh thought almost audibly. Then he gave his mother another command. “Mom, turn around and stand still. When I walk back into the kitchen you will neither see nor hear me. I will be totally invisible to you.” His mother turned around as commanded and stood stiff like a statue. Rayleigh took this as his sign to walk back into the kitchen. He stood in front of her and waved his hand an inch from her face, but she did not react at all. In fact, she didn’t even blink. “Wow, this is so cool,” he said with amazement.
Then a strange idea popped into his mind. “Mom, I want your mind to be completely blank, like if you were hypnotized.” With that his mother’s posture became less rigid and the expression on her face became vacant. “Now, when I snap my fingers I want you to become as aroused as you’ve never have been before in you life.” Rayleigh paused for a moment, just to build some anticipation and tension for himself, and then—snap!
From one moment to the next his mother turned from a blank canvas into a depraved animal. Her face contorted with pleasure and her nipples stiffened, visibly poking through the fabric of her shirt. Then she started moaning deeply and pressed her thighs together. “Oh my god! Oooohhh!” she roared.
While he watched his mother being ravaged by ecstasy, glee started spreading on Rayleigh’s face as he felt a feeling of power flooding his body and mind. “Stop!” he exlaimed—and so she did. “When I leave the kitchen you will be back to your normal self and forget everything that happened since you called me downstairs.” He walked out and stopped right around the corner, just as before, so he could watch what was about to unfold next.
“What happened? Where did the dirty dishes go?” Rayleigh’s mother said startled with confusion. To her it felt as if she had experienced a jump cut in real life. One second she was about to call her son down to put away the dishes, the next they seemed to have vanished. On top of that her legs felt wobly. She put a hand to her forhead and feelt some of the residual heat from her indecent acts just moments prior. “I think I don’t feel so good. Maybe I need to lie down.”
As she moved to leave the kitchen, Rayleigh quietly fled up the stairs and back into his bedroom before his mother could discover him, and maybe suspect something. Inside his room he pressed one ear against the door to listen for his mother’s footsteps. After she had safely passed by his room, he quietly cracked open the door a tiny bit and peeked outside. He just barely caught his mother entering his parent’s bedroom and closing the door behind her.
“Wow! This is amazing! I have mind control powers!” Rayleigh could not help but say aloud. “All the things that I’ll be able to do now! Wait, what can I do? Maybe I should try this out some more. I need to figure out what I can and what I can’t do. I guess I need to draw up some kind of plan with stuff that I wanna try out. But who to test this on?” He thought for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. “Damn! Too bad no one else is around, who I could use as a guinea pig. And I don’t wanna wait around ’til tomorrow. This stuff is too good to pass on. I guess mom will have to do.”
Rayleigh was giddy with excitement. He could not hold back and wanted to go all out immediately. He wondered if was able to have ultimate control over someone else: to project his mind onto them. For that he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated really hard. He imagined his mind streaming towards his mother in her bedroom. Then he felt a pull and his entire being seemed to shoot forward at great speed. This feeling stopped as quickly as it began, as he seemed to halt abruptly.
When Rayleigh opened his eyes, he at first felt a little disoriented. After blinking a few times his vision came back in focus and he could see two big lumps protruding in front of him. He cautiously prodded one with his fingers, which confirmed to him that they were real. He gave both of them an appreciative squeeze.
“Oh my! What is going on?” he could hear his mother’s voice say in his head. This surprised him and snapped him back into reality. As he looked up and around he saw that he was in his parent’s bedroom, sitting on their bed. But besides him there was no one there.
Rayeleigh looked down again to take a closer look at his stolen body. His hands now looked more feminine but also older and a bit wrinkly. He roamed them all over his new proportions. Every inch of it screamed that he was not a scrawny nerd boy anymore, but a full-bodied woman. “Stop it, me! What are you doing?” his mother’s voice pleaded as she seemed unable to control her own hands. But her son ignored her. He enjoyed this feeling of power way too much.
After satisfying his immediate curiosity, he got up and walked towards his mother’s full-length mirror. With every step he could feel the jiggling of the new weight on his chest and around his hips. When he reached the mirror and finally got a full view of himself, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Instead of seeing himself he saw his mother with her mouth wide open and an expression of shock on her face.
“I can’t believe this worked! This is so rad!” Rayleigh whispered in his mother’s voice. He rubbed his stolen hands all over his mother’s face, as if to make sure that he was not wearing a mask that was to come off any second. Then he twisted her body to inspect her plump rear in the mirror. This contorted pose in a weird way made his mother look like a girl posing for her Instagram feed. “Dammit! What is happening? Why can’t I control my own body!” his mother’s voice cried in desperation.
Rayleigh then resumed a more upright posture and started lightly brushing down his mother’s body, as if to remove some creases in her outfit and make her look more prim and proper. Then, without a warning, he launched into a tirade. Anger and scorn now clouded his mother’s otherwise soft features. He pointed her index finger in the air and wagged it wildly.
“Rayleigh, didn’t I tell you to clean your room! Rayleigh, why isn’t your laundry done, yet? Rayleigh, clean the kitchen! Rayleigh, do this! Rayleigh, do that! Rayleigh, how often have I told you? Rayleigh, I forbid you!” His scolding of himself seemed to go on forever when, suddenly, his little role-playing made Rayleigh explode with laughter, which caused his mother’s boobs to shake according to its rhythm.
“As much as I enjoy this,” Rayleigh thought to himself while wiping away a tear of joy, “I think I better leave. I don’t want to torture mom too much.” With that he closed his eyes and concentrated again. He again felt the same pull and the same acceleration as earlier. When he snapped back into his own body on his own bed, a sinister grin formed on his face. “This is going to be good!”
______________________________
Milo was walking through the school’s hallways alone. He was on his way back to class from his trip to the bathroom. Somehow he had not seen Rayleigh all day long. He would not even reply to his text messages.
Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. The surprise left him no time to brace himself for the impact as he hit the floor hard. His elbow was bruised and a little bit of blood ran down his nose. He groaned in pain as he turned on his back trying to get up. But then he discovered the reason for his fall: Jenna and Bianca were standing over him, towering, casting their tall shadows on him. Their legs looked like giant marble pillars. For Milo, their height difference now seemed insurmountable from all the way down there. But this perspective also allowed him to almost see up their skirts. Did he catch a glint of their underwear?
“What did I tell you, you little scum?” Jenna angrily spat at him. “This assignment was even worse than the last one,” she said in a threatening tone. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you don’t wanna listen, you’re gonna have to feel … pain, that is!”
And with that, Jenna lifted her leg and slammed her foot down on Milo’s scrotum with full force. He winced in agony. But even through all his pain and humiliation, he somehow still felt a tingle of arousal building inbetween his legs. His member began to stiffen.
Jenna felt Milo’s hardness growing underneath her sneaker. “Oh my god! Is this turning you on?” Jenna laughed with disgust. “Ew, what a pervert!” Bianca chimed in. Jenna kept her foot on his genitalia, pressing further down to rub in the pain. “Yeah, you like that? Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?”
With anger, Jenna kept repeatedly stepping on his groin. As he groaned, the feelings inside Milo kept rising and rising, growing ever more intense. Then suddenly, a large stain formed on his pants, as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to ejaculate and a moan to escape his lips. When she realized what had happened, Jenna said, “Ew, now you’ve even ruined my shoes,” and began wiping them on his shirt.
Suddenly they were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Quickly, as the crowds were pouring into the hallways, Jenna pulled Milo to his feet. Then, to make sure that everyone could hear her, Jenna said loudly, “I think you’re really nice, Milo, and an awesome person. Thank you for confessing your feelings for me, but unfortunately, I can’t reciprocate them. You see, I already have a boyfriend. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Then Jenna smiled at him and gave him a big hug in front of everybody. To everyone else this looked like one of her sweet acts of kindness. But, what no one but Milo could hear, was what she whispered in his ear. “Don’t think you’re done here. This is far from over.”
As Jenna released Milo from her hug, the huge stain on his pants became visible to everyone around them. The students in the crowd started giggling and laughing, one after the other. Some of them even pointed their fingers at him. “Did he wet himself?” someone shouted. “What a loser!” “Guys, don’t be mean to him!” Jenna said to the crowd, pretending to defend him. “This can happen to anyone. It’s a little accident, nothing to be ashamed of!” Her boyfriend, who had wittnesed everything, walked up to them and said, “Jenna, you’re way too nice to him. Don’t go near that loser or his dorkiness will rub off on you.” “I’m sorry, Milo. I have to go. See you next time,” Jenna said as her boyfriend pulled her away, with Bianca following suit.
Milo could not hold it in any longer. Tears of hurt and humiliation started to stream down his face uncontrollably. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed for never standing up to his bullies, but most of all, ashamed for getting aroused by his humiliation. Milo started to run away, trying to escape everyone’s looks. He just wanted to hide forever, somewhere where no one could find him, so that he would never have to show his face in public again.
On his way out of the school he ran past Rayleigh. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh tried to greet him, but Milo didn’t seem to hear him and just kept running. “What’s going on?” Rayleigh called after him.
______________________________
Milo was lying on his bed, crying. Today had been just too much. He thought about running away and leaving everything behind when someone knocked on his door. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh said, “it’s me, open up!” “What do you want?” “I heard about what happened and I wanna see if you’re okay. Come on, let me in!”
Milo slowly got up and unlocked his door. He wiped away his tears and said, “Man, where were you this morning, I could have used some help!” “I’m sorry,” Rayleigh said, “but I couldn’t help it. Something important came up.” “Yeah? How important could it be?” “Very important! Actually, very important to you, too. And it’s just the thing to help you—us—out of our current situation. I know a way how we can get revenge on those two bitches.” “Yeah? How?” “I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me, but … I’ve just found out that I got mind control powers.”
“Oh shut up!” Milo said not believing a single word. “You know, if you didn’t wanna help you didn’t have to come over. But making fun of me is just mean!” he said. “No, I swear! It’s actually real!” Rayleigh tried to counter. “Here, let me show you.”
Suddenly, Milo stuck his hands to his sides and started flapping his arms like a bird. Then he started strutting around the room, cocking his head back and forth with every step. Next, his torso jerked forward and he started bumping his nose into the ground. As a final flourish he even started clucking like chicken. “Ahahaha! Man, you look so ridiculous. If you could see yourself!” Rayleigh said with laughter. After about a minute of that, Rayleigh released his grip over his friend.
Finally operating under his own free will again, Milo said with some fear in his voice, “Ok, ok. I guess you weren’t lying after all. This power is incredible, … but also frightening. What else can you do?” A mischievous grin spread across Rayleigh’s face. “I can do this.” And all of a sudden, Milo felt himself being catapulted out of his body and rapidly flinging off into nowhere.
When he opened his eyes again, Milo found himself inside his sister’s room. She was two years older than him and a college student. Currently she was staying over during her semester break. Milo wondered what had happened and how he got here. But his thoughts were interrupted by his sister saying, “What the hell? Why can’t I move” He could not seem to locate where his sister’s voice came from. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. On top of that, he noticed that he was unable to move, as well. Panic started to set in.
Then, without his command, his head started turning and looked around his sister’s room until his eyes abruptly stopped as they had fixated on her mirror. Again, without him doing anything, his body just got up all on its own and started walking directly across the room. With every step he felt something heavy bouncing on his chest.
When he finally arrived in front of the mirror he almost fainted from what he discovered: instead of his own reflection he saw his sister’s. Even worse, he realized, he was trapped inside her body!
“What is going on?” he heard his sister’s voice say in fear. But the strangest thing was, even though she said that, her lips had not moved at all. Instead, now her mouth said, “Oh, wow! Look at you!”. And with that his eyes started scanning his sister’s body from head to toe multiple times until they finally stopped and rested on her chest.
Then his head automatically swiveled down. One of his hands was pulling his shirt forward and he was forced took a peek at his sister’s generous cleavage. Then his hands reached up and gently squeezed the ample mounds protruding from his chest. Looking up again he had to stand there and, against his will, watch his sister grope her own breasts while she had a lecherous expression plastered across her face. Then, without a warning, she flung off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts.
“Eeeeehh! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Milo’s sister cried inside his head. “I guess this is enough of a show for today,” his sister’s body said while giving her own butt a little squeeze. “See you soon!” she added with a wink of an eye. And with that, Milo felt the same pull and acceleration as before.
Back in his own body, Milo was breathing heavily. When he started to catch his breath, he looked over to Rayleigh who asked him with a smile on his face, “So? What do you think?” “What the fuck!” Milo yelled as he punched Rayleigh “Hey, calm down, calm down,” Rayleigh said, “I was just playing around.” “This wasn’t fun! I could hear her voice! She didn’t like even one second of it, and neither did I. How am I gonna explain this to her?” Milo freaked out. “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh tried to pacify him, “I made sure to make her forget everything that happened. She won’t remember a thing.”
Rayleigh went on to explain every little detail of how he discovered his powers, what he was able to do, and the plan he had worked out to get back at Jenna and Bianca using his mind control powers. As it turned out, this was the reason why he had been missing from school this morning. “Trust me, this is going to be awesome!” Rayleigh finished. “I don’t know,” Milo said reluctantly, “I’m not so sure.”
______________________________
“And when I thought that wimp couldn’t get any more pathetic, he actually went ahead and creamed his pants! Hahaha, what a disgusting loser!” Bianca laughed hard. She and Jenna gloated at their victim’s humiliation as they were having a sleepover at Jenna’s place. They were already wearing their pajamas as they were about to go to bed. “I know,” Jenna added. “But I think I’m gonna throw away my shoes. I don’t want this pervert’s gunk anywhere near me. Too bad, I actually really liked those shoes. Welp, I’ll just gonna have to make daddy buy me a new pair. But not before I make that puny nerd pay!”
As their laughter at the misery of others slowly started to die down, Jenna noticed something bizarre. Bianca’s smile, which just a moment ago had been full of glee, was now turning sinister. “Why are you making that face?” she wanted to ask, but somehow those words never left her lips. “Wait! Why can’t I say anything? And why is Bianca smiling? Helloooo? Bianca, help!” Jenna tried to communicate to her friend, but it was in vain.
“Aaaand, we’re in!” Bianca said. “I’m still not so sure about this,” Jenna heard her own voice say. “Relax,” Bianca retorted, “just try to enjoy this. You’ll see. Before you’ll notice, you’ll come to like it. Trust me.” Then, Bianca started patting down her own breasts and took a peek inside her shirt. “Oooh, look what we have here. What a shame. Unfortunately they’re not as big as the ones I had before. And they are certainly not as big as your current ones!” Bianca said while pointing with her eyes at Jenna’s chest.
Jenna watched her head look down in response. Her enormous mounds took up almost her entire field of view. Her petite hands reached up to cup and weigh them. “They’re heavy!” her voice said. Her fingers then tried to clench into fists, but they were hindered by the soft tissue that was now compressed almost painfully. A small moan escaped her mouth. “They’re sensitive, too!” “Whoever or whatever is doing this to me, stop it immediately or you’re gonna regret this! You’re making me look like pervert,” Jenna tried to threaten the intruder inside her own head. “Bianca! Do something! Help me!”
Meanwhile in Bianca’s head, the situation did not look any better. “Jenna, stop squeezing your boobs and help me out. My body is acting weird,” Bianca’s inner voice said as she was forced to perv on her friend groping herself. “Why aren’t you answering me! Helloooo? Can you hear me?” “Sorry, Bianca, but Jenna won’t hear you”, Bianca heard her own mouth say. “You see, you’re not in control anymore. Not of others, and certainly not of yourself.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This is a sweet little thing called ‘revenge.’ Revenge for all the evil things you’ve done!” Bianca heard herself say. “I never did anything!” “Are you sure? ’cause there are two boys in your class who would beg to differ” “What? You mean those losers? Whatever we did, they deserved it!” “We didn’t deserve nothing! But you deserve everything that’s coming to you. You controlled our lives for the last few years, and now we’re going to control your bodies, until you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“So we’re being controlled? Then who is inside my body!” Jenna asked. “T-T-This is Milo,” he said, making her voice sound uncharacteristically timid. “Aaaww, hello no! My body is being controlled by this disgusting freak? Things just can’t get any worse! Now, listen here you little bitch, you get out of my body this instant or you’ll wish I was back to crushing your junk!” “Ray,” Milo said in Jenna’s voice, “I think she’s relly pissed now. Maybe we should reconsider this.” “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh said using Bianca’s body, “we’re in full control. Those are just empty threats.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “let’s gather a little–what do you girls call it in your profession?—ah yes: blackmail! I’m sure, soon you two little birds will be singing a different tune, as soon as you realize that your reputation is at stake.”
In the meantime Milo tried to get acquainted with navigating his new body. When he tried to stand up, he at first had trouble sorting out his balance, since he did not have enough time yet to get used to his new center of gravity. He almost fell over, but was able to catch to himself in time by placing his hands on the ground. If someone had walked in on them in this moment, they would have thought that Jenna was trying to immitate some four-legged animal. Both her hands and feet were firmly planted on the ground and with her legs entirely straight, her butt proudly pointed towards the ceiling.
“Wow. Her body is really flexible.” Milo said with amazement. “Look, I can touch my toes!” “That’s because she’s a gymnast,” Rayleigh reminded him. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Mmmmhhh … I wonder if can …” With that, Milo stood back upright and then slowly started bending over backwards. “Haha, look at me. I’m like some girl from a horror movie,” he said laughing in Jenna’s voice while contorting her body into all sorts of strange shapes.
Next, he wanted to try doing splits. For that he stood back up again and then slowly slid his legs apart, one forward, one backward. As his step increased and increased, his pelvis automatically inched closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he plopped down on the floor with the full lengths of Jenna’s legs touching the ground. “Amazing, this doesn’t even hurt. Not one bit!”
“So, ‘Jenna’,” Rayleigh interrupted his antics with a wink, “why don’t you show us what else you can do?” “Ok, I guess, …” Rayleigh then got out Bianca’s phone and started recording, while Milo got up and started fumbling with the buttons on Jenna’s pajamas. “Uh, sorry …, this might take a while,” Milo said blushing with nervousness. With the way the red was highlighted by her pale skin and how her blue eyes flitted around nervously, Milo made Jenna almost look like an innocent school girl right before her first recital.
“Finally!” Milo whispered as he managed to open the last button. The opening of Jenna’s now-unbuttoned shirt provided a small window revealing both the creamy skin of her taut belly and how her big, teenage breasts gently touched each other even without a bra.
“Wait, what do you plan on doing? You don’t … No! Don’t! Pleeease, stop it! Anything but that!” Jenna cried in her own head, but Milo just ignored her. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Milo started awkwardly moving Jenna’s hips to an imaginary beat while slowly sliding her shirt off her dainty shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms, and finally letting it drop to the ground.
There they were: the biggest—and first—pair of boobs the two boys had ever seen in real life. Jenna’s boobs. They were marvellous, full and perky. They looked like ripe fruit garnished by two rosy nipples. The rough movements of Jenna’s hips made them bounce up and down, hypnotizing anyone who dared to gaze upon them.
At the same time, Milo made all sorts of awkward expressions with Jenna’s face, trying desperately to make her look sexy. He even ruffled up Jenna’s hair to make her look more raunchy, but instead it looked like a mess and only added to his overall inept performance. “L-look at me, I’m J-jenna,” he said unconvincingly, “I might act all innocent around everyone else, but … um … in truth I’m a total slut.” “Nooooo! Stop it!” Jenna pleaded in desperation. “You make me look like such a loser!”
“Haha, what are you doing?” Rayleigh laughed. “You look like a total dork. Loosen up. You’re way too stiff! Here, you hold the camera. I’ll show you how it’s done!” Rayleigh said. He got up, handed Milo the phone, and then took his place.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I promise!” Bianca pleaded meekly. “Ha, fat chance!” Rayleigh said internally. “You had plenty of chance to stop over the years, but you just continued on. Now it’s payback time, baby.” His confidence all fired up, he started dancing with much more bravado than Milo had shown before him.
Next, he flung off Bianca’s shirt in one swift motion, presenting her rather modest chest. “Well,” he said mockingly, “I think we all know that ‘my’ strengths have always laid elsewhere, don’t we?” With that he faced away from the camera and started wiggling Bianca’s enormous butt, which made her pajama pants slowly slide down her hips, revealing inch by inch her big, dark buns.
As soon as Bianca’s pants hit the floor, Rayleigh started slapping her butt, sending ripples through her giant cheeks. “Look at ‘my’ ass!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Then he bent Bianca’s body forward and started twerking as hard he could, providing quite the show for the camera. “Please, no. This is humiliating.” Bianca whimpered. “I’m not like that!”
“See ‘Jenna’? That’s how it’s done. You gotta be proud of what your mama gave you!” Rayleigh said in a mock imitation of Bianca. If she were still in control of her own body, then tears would now start rolling down her face. “Hi, I’m Bianca, the star of the soccer team. When these cheek’s ain’t busy scoring goals, they be clapping for the team.” At this point Rayleigh was reveling in the control he was exerting over his former bullies.
Then, as a final act of humiliation, he strode over to Milo. He took the phone off of him and held it up high, angling it in such a way that both girls were in full view. Next, he put his other hand on the back of Jenna’s head, and then lunged in, kissing his friend deeply.
At first, Milo was caught by surprise. But then, for a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the girl’s soft lips meshing with each other and Jenna’s breast pressing against Bianca’s.
______________________________
“No, no, no, noooo!” Jenna and Bianca cried in unison. “If anyone sees this, we’re done. Pleeeease don’t do this! We beg of you! We regret what we did. We’re deeply sorry. We won’t come near you ever again. We’re also gonna make up for all that we did to you, we swear.”
Their cries snapped Milo out of their sensual entanglement. He broke off the kiss and gently pushed Rayleigh away from himself. “Ray, I think this is enough. They seem to have learned their lesson. Let’s just stop and leave. We probably have enough material to keep them in line.” “But why?” Rayleigh protested. “We’re having so much fun. Come on!” “No, I mean it,” Milo said, asserting himself for the first time in his life. “I also told you that I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. Yeah, I want to get revenge, too, but not like this!”
“Fine,” Rayleigh pouted. “But I think you’ll be changing your mind real soon about this, Jenna,” “What do you mean, Bianca?” Milo said. “And stop calling me ‘Jenna’.” A grin started spreading across Bianca’s face. “Wait, why did I call you ‘Bianca’?” Milo asked. “Because that’s my name, silly,” Rayleigh replied. “I’m Bianca and you’re Jenna.” “No, I'm not Jenna,” Milo exlaimed, “I’m Jenna! Wait … Aargh, stop it!” His heart started beating faster and fear started to settle in. “Are you doing this to me, Bianca?”
Milo felt a jolt run through his stolen body. He suddenly could not move anymore. “Wait, Bianca! Stop it. Please don’t do this!” Milo said, trapped in someone else’s head. He felt Jenna’s lips move all by themselves. “Bianca, I haven’t been honest with you,” Jenna’s body said. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve had a crush on you. I was ashamed of my feelings. You know, a girl liking a girl. I know, we live in more progressive times now. But still, what would people think? Also, I was afraid that you might hate me if I told you how I really felt. I’m still afraid. But, I can’t hide it any longer. Not anymore. Bianca, I love you!”
There was a moment of silece. “Please don’t hate me,” ‘Jenna’ pleaded quietly. “Aaaw, sweety,” Rayleigh said in Bianca’s voice, enjoying the act he made them put on. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. But now we can be more than friends. The truth is, I also liked you from the beginning. I’ve always looked forward to our sleepovers, where it’s just the two of us, all alone. And I’ve always enjoyed the way you smell each time we hugged, and feeling your warm body press against mine. Also, I’ve always secretly peeked at you when we were changing before P.E. and then thought of you when I masturbated at home. I’m just so happy that the truth is out now. Thanks to you I don’t feel ashamed anymore to admit it: I love you, too, Jenna.”
By now, Jenna’s body was a mere puppet, dancing to the pull of her master’s will. It was completely empty, devoid of any free will. Her only purpose now was to act out her role in Rayleigh’s play. Rayleigh used his powers to force tears of happiness to stream down Jenna’s face, which was glowing with joy. Then the two ‘girls’ embraced each other. “Does that mean, I’m your girlfriend now?” ‘Jenna’ asked while trying to wipe away the tears. “Of course it does!” ‘Bianca’ said while gently poking Jenna’s nose with her finger. “Now let me show what real girlfriends do.” “No, Bianca, I don’t want this. Don’t make me do this. This isn’t right,” Milo tried to say, but no one could hear him.
Then Jenna’s and Bianca’s bodies started to slowly and tenderly kiss each other. At first their lips only grazed each other reluctantly, quivering with a little nervousness. But with every soft touch, they grew more and more confident. Soon they were not just kissing anymore, but ravaging each other like animals, their moans muffled by each other’s lips and their hands wildy roaming all over each other’s bodies and through their hair. Milo could not help but feel the arousal of Jenna’s body slowly spill over into his mind.
Rayleigh placed Bianca’s chocolaty hands on Jenna’s enormous, milk-colored breasts while Jenna’s delicate hands explored the vastness of Bianca’s mighty butt. Then they stopped their kissing to give themselves a chance to catch their breath. They intensly stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Bianca’ into Jenna’s baby blue eyes and ‘Jenna’ into Bianca’s dark hazel eyes. A cheeky grin started to spread across each of their faces.
Rayeleigh took Jenna’s hand and led her over to her bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Jenna’s body onto Bianca’s lap. He slowly glid his hands along Jenna’s waist, drinking in her contours. Now on eye-level with her chest, he was completely entranced by her breasts. “Shake ’em for me,” he whispered. Against her will, Jenna’s body started shaking her boobs, causing her hefty orbs to swing from side to side. At the same time, Rayleigh started inching Bianca’s face closer and closer towards Jenna’s chest until he was nestling inbetween her soft globes, surrounded on both sides with warm flesh. Then he lifted up his stolen hands, placed them on either side of her mounds, and began pressing and squeezing them, really rubbing in feeling of their softness and making Jenna moan with pleasure.
After a small pause Rayleigh motioned Jenna’s body to get off and gently, with his hand, guided her head down inbetween his legs. Without an explicit prompt, ‘Jenna’ started softly kissing Bianca’s waiting slit. Jenna’s upper lips brushed ever so lightly against Bianca’s lower lips, as if she was teasing her. Then she started to slowly trace the tip of her tongue up and down Bianca’s opening, making it quiver with pleasure. Rayleigh started moaning in Bianca’s sultry voice as arousal welled up inside his stolen body.
‘Jenna’ then entered Bianca with her tongue and started deeply kissing her nether regions and feasting on her sweet juices. The pleasure inside Bianca’s body started rising and rising until, finally, a wave of orgams swept over Bianca’s body. “Oh, gooood!” ‘Bianca’ groaned. ‘Her’ meaty thighs clamped down abruptly on Jenna’s head, trapping her as if she was caught in a vice. The shaking of ‘her’ legs made Jenna’s head vibrate.
Rayleigh started to slowly come down from his high, breaving heavily. Basking in its afterglow, he gently caressed Jenna’s head. “Wooow … That was amaaaaazing!” he exlaimed. “You’ve done well, ‘Jenna’. I think it’s only fair that I repay you. How about a little appetizer?” He then took one of Bianca’s feet and placed it right in front of her face, nudging her lips with her big toe. “I think you like that, don’t you? Yeah, I know you like that.” The tone of Bianca’s voice started to turn domineering.
“Ew, don’t make me do this. This is disgusting!” the real Jenna thought. Milo on the other hand seemed strangely aroused by this. What he didn’t realize was that Rayleigh had weakend his grip on him quite a while ago. He had subconciously been going along with Rayleigh’s act, dutifuly playing his part. Without any further force from Rayleigh he started licking Bianca’s feet, up and down their entire sole and sucking vigorously sucking on her toes.
“Goood,” Rayleigh cooed. “Now get up, slut!” With that Milo bolted upwards and stood erect like a soldier. Then Rayleigh got up off the bed and stood in front of Milo. He reached out with both of Bianca’s hands and squeezed Jenna’s breasts hard, as if he wanted to squeeze juice out of lemons. “Ow!” Milo winced in pain. Jenna’s nipples became stiff with arousal.
Milo was still in turmoil about the morality of all of this, but he could no longer deny that it was exciting him. Then—slap, slap, slap! Jenna’s breasts jiggled widly with each hit that Rayleigh brought down on them. The pain reverberated throughout Jenna’s boobs and fuelled Milo’s rising pleasure as Bianca’s hands left increasingly redder marks on them. Rayleigh then gently rolled Jenna’s nipples inbetween his fingers. And without warning, he suddenly twisted them with a tremendous amount of force, nearly drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from Milo, as an orgasm washed over him that almost made Jenna’s knees buckle under the strain.
Rayleigh then drew a finger across Jenna’s wet slit, which made Milo shudder. He played with a string of Jenna’s juices inbetween his fingers and said, “I see someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” Milo did not dare to speak as his wildest fantasies were coming true right in this moment. All he could muster was a muffled, “mmmmhh,” while he nodded. Both Milo and Rayleigh increasingly enjoyed Rayleigh’s power trip, though for different reasons.
“Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?” Rayleigh said in a threatening tone. “I guess I’ll have to teach you!” With that, he forcefully threw Milo onto Jenna’s bed. He then took a deep breath before Bianca’s hands started raining down pain on Jenna’s ass. The intense spanking caused the heat inside of Milo to flare up again. “Yeees, harder! Harder!” Milo cried.
But before he was able to peak a second time, Rayleigh flipped over Jenna’s body onto her back. Then he grabbed the back of Jenna’s head and this time slammed it down into her own privates. He kept it there with brute force. Even though Jenna’s body was very flexible, this forced position still caused Milo considerable pain. Jenna’s breasts squished uncomfortably into her ribcage and thereby constricted her lungs. “Who told you you could talk back, you little slut?” ‘Bianca’ shouted. “Now, eat up or your mistress is gonna show you what real pain is!”
As commanded, Milo started licking Jenna’s slit, taking in her unfamiliar yet delicious taste. As his tongue explored the depths of his stolen hole, the pleasure in his body kept rising and rising. However, at the same time, his oxygen supply started to run low, as he could hardly breathe in this position. Knowing that he had only a limited amount of time, Milo drasticly increased his fervor in lapping up Jenna’s sweet juices, hoping to free himself before he passed out. In a race between hitting orgasm and suffocation, his stolen lips became slicker and slicker while his vision steadily darkenend.
But finally, in a last ditch effort, he managed to send himself over the edge and hit another orgasm before he could pass out in Jenna’s body. Rayleigh took the shaking of Jenna’s legs as a sign and pulled up her head, making Milo gasp for much needed air. “Goood girl,” Rayleigh commended ‘Jenna’ in a soothing voice while caressing her head. Milo panted heavily. “You we’re right,” he said with a deeply content smile spreading across his stolen face. “This is fun.”
1
7.8K
156
10
2
When Logan is invited by his friend Ryan to participate in a experiment, the last thing he is expecting is for his mind to be copied into the body of a brain slug.
However, instead of trying to fix things when she discovers this, Ryan sets her sights on fulfilling her all longheld ambitions with Logan's newfound abilities.
Logan is initially keen with just going along things as he possesses more bodies and pushes the extent of his capabilities. However, when a desire to be more than just her golden goose begins to stir within him, he soon finds himself starting to make plans to fulfill his own longheld desires...
Abstract
In a drab concrete parking structure, sitting inside a car that looked too small for his large frame, a sizable young man silently debated a life choice. It had occupied his mind for days, ever since a certain woman from his past had reached out for the first time in years. Even though he felt indecisive, he had a few mental tools to help him make his mind up. No matter how big the choice, the real decision was whether to start the engine back up and drive away… or open the car door and step out.
…
With a muted pop, the car door swung open.
He had already driven this far, turning back would be a waste of time and gas. Maybe the choice had already been made the very instant he got into his car earlier. Then all the worrying afterwards was just pointless emotion, the last-minute anxiety and doubt that comes with seeing “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” on the gates of hell despite knowing exactly what must be done.
The large man’s heavy footsteps made the only sound in the echoing gray maze. He was a tall mountain of a man that few would challenge physically. He was dressed nicely enough, something a little more than casual, something to wear when reuniting with an old… friend. After exiting the parking structure, he found himself a short distance away from a security booth, its red and white bar hanging guarding the street entrance and a separate pedestrian gate on the opposite side. Behind the booth’s bulletproof glass, a uniformed guard watched the man approach, asking for his ID as soon as he was close enough.
“Name and date of birth?”
“Logan Miller, February 19th. It says on my ID.”
“Reason for visiting?”
“I’m getting a tour from Ryan Everly.”
The guard returned Logan’s ID alongside a freshly printed plastic badge on a lanyard. An audible metallic click could be heard from the pedestrian gate. Logan passed through the gate and headed towards the monolithic building ahead.
As Logan walked, he inspected the plastic badge he was given. At the top, a logo for SynthraForma, followed by VISITOR in bold black letters, then his name, face, and a barcode with small numbers beneath.
Reaching the entrance, he tried the door handle and found it locked. He tried to use his badge on a nearby reader, but it beeped and showed a red light in rejection. Just as Logan was thinking of returning to the guard, the locked doors violently swung open from the inside. Barely dodging the doors, Logan suddenly stood before a stunning woman.
Beautiful red hair that instantly drew stares, captivating hazel eyes that were framed by complementary glasses, flawless skin that supermodels would envy, and a killer figure underneath a white lab coat. Ryan Everly, Logan’s high school best friend that he hadn’t seen since. She cracked a charming smile on her rosy lips, and spoke with her enchanting voice.
“Long time no see. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”
Introduction
Logan hadn’t seen Ryan since graduating high school a considerable number of years ago. In the past she was already pretty, but during the years that he hadn’t seen her, Ryan’s natural beauty was further enhanced to perfection. Judging by her current workplace, her intellect had no problems keeping pace either. Logan gave a polite smile and met Ryan’s mesmerizing eyes.
“Yeah, it sure has. How have you been?”
Ryan’s smile remained, but something subtle changed in her expression.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to lie to a friend. I’ve been a bit busy recently. Deadlines, disappointing results, and demanding superiors. You know how it can be. But anyways, I’m so glad you went out of your way to come here. I really appreciate it.”
Logan did expend quite some effort to get there. Scarce paid-time-off was spent from his job as an office clerk, not to mention the cost of a rental car and hotel. Still, it was a trip that he needed to take for his own sake, not just Ryan’s.
“It’s good to see you too. I can’t wait to see what you’ve been up to. Cured cancer or something?”
Ryan let out a little giggle that played like melodic birdsong in Logan’s ears.
“Well then, let me show you. Welcome to SynthraForma. I obviously can’t give you a full tour of the lab. In fact, even I don’t have access to everything, but I’ll show you what I can. Just a reminder, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? Not. A single. Breath.”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.”
Ryan accepted Logan’s promise and both of them entered the building. He stepped into a long hallway illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Before Logan could go anywhere, Ryan pointed towards a part of the wall next to the door. There was a plastic mount that held a stack of blank forms, a clipboard, and a pen on a string.
“Just a silly little NDA, for the suits and whatnot. Every visitor has to fill one out, but we don’t get that many visitors anyways.”
Logan gave it a quick skim before signing it, submitting the document in an empty slot clearly meant to receive them. Ryan then led him down the hallway. There were no windows inside, only heavy metal doors flanking them on both sides. Occasionally, there were laminated papers taped onto the walls, usually displaying some information or reminder for the employees.
Don’t hold doors open for others.
Keep your badge clearly visible at all times.
Thoroughly wash your hands before eating.
The potluck is this friday.
Finally, the two of them reached a door no different from the others. Ryan used her badge to unlock it and entered with Logan following behind. Now past three layers of security, Logan found himself in an unexpectedly mundane office. There were uniform cubicles to both sides, some with small decorations and knick knacks to add a splash of personality.
“These are our desks. It’s not glamorous, but most of our work happens here. Compiling data, writing reports, reading emails… Not very exciting, but it’s part of the job. This one is mine.”
Ryan’s desk had a computer like the others, with that addition of multiple stacks of books and papers, not to mention a couple of mugs with coffee stains. It looked like Ryan was about to say something, but someone else caught her attention. A woman was approaching them, dressed in the professional attire of a white button-up blouse and suit pants. She looked Asian, around her mid thirties, with light makeup and her hair in a bun. The authoritative click of her heels almost served as an introduction.
“Hello, you must be Ryan’s guest. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your tour, I just need to have a little chat with Ryan if that’s okay.”
Her words were sharp and assertive, ensuring that no one would challenge them. Logan certainly didn’t want to at least.
“I don’t mind at all. I’m Logan. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss…”
“Doctor. Doctor Li, SynthraForma research supervisor, pleased to meet you too Logan.”
“Anyways Ryan, I’ll make this quick. The deadline for your current project is coming up. I have great expectations of you, and I’ll make sure that your future assignments will reflect how well you perform here. I’m sure an incredible breakthrough is just on the horizon.”
Doctor Li left as quickly as she arrived, not waiting for Ryan to respond. Looking at Ryan, Logan could tell that she wasn’t particularly happy about her supervisor’s reminder. Her face didn’t give much away, but her silence and stiff body language gave it away. It took her a moment to compose herself, before she returned to Logan.
“I guess the tour wouldn’t be complete without an introduction to my kind and caring supervisor. Anyways, let’s get on with it.”
Ryan left her cubicle and promptly started walking again with Logan in tow. They reached another door that required Ryan’s badge. Logan noticed way more signage on this door than the ones before, being plastered with a variety of colorful symbols and labels warning about hazards of all kinds. Past the door, Logan saw a proper laboratory, filled with multitudes of complex-looking devices.
“Here on the left, high temperature superconductors.”
She carelessly gestured towards a workstation full of electronics, wires, and gas tanks of some kind.
Curiously, there was a plush of a squid on one of the workstation shelves. Ryan continued walking on without sparing a moment for Logan to really look.
“Over here on the right, artificial neural networks composed of lab-grown neurons.”
This workstation had a big microscope, with a collection of slides and plastic petri dishes next to it. Tons of papers, binders, and books filled this station out. Again, Ryan practically walked right past it, barely sparing the effort to mention it in her tour. This continued for the rest of the workstations until they reached the back of the lab.
“And here, in the back corner… my project… the slug project.”
Hypothesis
Ryan gestured to a small rectangular glass tank with some twigs and bedding. Logan had to lean in close to spot the first slug. It was an unremarkable little green thing, no different from something you’d find in somebody’s garden. Still though, being in this lab, there had to be more than met the eye. Or Ryan was pranking him.
Either way, Logan’s best choice was to play along.
“Interesting. What’s special about them?”
“These unassuming little blobs are a new species discovered in the Amazon. They were found in primate brains and initially mistaken for some sort of large parasitic worm. However, their biology and behavior is significantly different. A mature slug, ready to lay eggs, has the unique ability to enter a host’s brain without damaging the surrounding tissue, where it influences the host’s behavior. It compels the host to climb into the forest canopy, where it exits the host’s body and safely lays its eggs high up in the trees.”
Logan looked at the slugs again, watching as one lazily crawled on a leaf of lettuce. Brain slugs huh? It reminded him of something out of a sci-fi show, the image of a big green blob with a single eye coming to mind.
“The higher ups say that they’re interested in the mechanics of how it enters and exits the host's brain without damaging anything. They say that it could be a revolution in neurosurgery. But I think that we all know what really brings in all the funding. Mind control.”
Logan almost had to hold back a chuckle. It sounded more like the premise to a horror video game or movie, a cheap one at that.
Experimenting with mind control slugs? Logan was waiting for Ryan to tell the punch line at this point.
“We’ve studied their natural behavior and made significant progress. We’ve selectively bred them to trigger their ‘control’ behavior independent from their breeding cycle, and to extend that control duration. We’ve conducted limited human testing and confirmed compatibility and functionality as well.”
“Human testing?”
“Yes, of course. Given the premise of this project, it would be unavoidable, don't you think?”
Logan was able to avoid laughing out loud, but he couldn’t help a little grin. He was surprised by the matter-of-fact tone that Ryan was able to keep up. So she had tested these mind control slugs on people huh?
“Well, who’d you test this on?”
“For obvious reasons, I can’t discuss any of their identities, but they were all fully consenting individuals that were compensated for their involvement. Also, I should mention that I wasn’t working on this project during the period that these tests were conducted, so I had no direct involvement. I’ve only joined recently.”
Logan was a little confused by her response. That little fact at the end there didn’t seem to be a part of the joke, it seemed a little too realistic. The idea bothered Logan. Maybe she wasn’t joking. Maybe this was real. What kind of place was Ryan working at? Logan shifted to a more serious tone.
“Hold on. This whole slug thing. The human testing. Doesn’t that… I don’t know, concern you or something? Like, the stuff that you’re working on… this whole project seems…”
“Unethical? Inhuman? Evil? I certainly thought so too when I was first assigned, but the project’s current state is far from what it was in the past.”
Ryan picked up a spray bottle next to the tank, opened its lid, and spritzed some clear fluid around the enclosure before closing it again.
“Everything I told you about was done years ago. The project hit a wall. The slugs just couldn’t execute complex commands, only the most basic trained actions in response to verbal triggers. A far cry from mind control. Continued investments of time and resources yielded nothing, resulting in researchers and funding getting pulled. When I was assigned to this project, it was already dead and buried for a long time.”
Logan could see tints of frustration in Ryan. He had seen her get frustrated at hitches in experiments before, but this seemed like a deeper kind of frustration. She probably felt trapped with a project like this.
“Currently, most of my day-to-day is being a slug keeper. Moisturize the habitat at least twice a day, feed the slugs and replace the food before it rots, replace the soil every few weeks. I’m almost envious of Sisyphus, at least he got a boulder.”
“Sorry to hear that you’ve had it so rough. Maybe it would be a good idea to ask for a different project, or just leave all this behind and look for a different lab?”
“Oh believe me I’ve tried, but there are certain… factors… that prevent me from transfering projects. Leaving for another lab isn’t a good option either. No lab in this country can compare to SynthraForma’s. The resources and secrecy here are exactly what I need.”
Hmm… it seemed like Ryan was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Any choice would be a compromise, and a pretty lousy one at that. Watching Ryan’s expressions, Logan could tell she wasn’t happy about things, but she seemed to perk up as she continued speaking.
“It’s not all doom and gloom though, I have a plan. Imagine this. I succeed with this project out of nowhere. Why, news of such a miracle will go straight to the highest executives. They’ll hear that little ol’ me, a single researcher with no support, managed to break through an impenetrable wall that defeated the best of the best. I’ll get the recognition I deserve and free reign to work on what I want.”
Logan could see a flame burning within Ryan, a determination that pushed her forward.
Instead of admitting defeat, she was fighting harder than ever before. Logan was worried that Ryan was feeling down, maybe searching for solace or even pity, but those worries were cleared by her display of brash, unashamed confidence. He almost wanted to start applauding her.
“I’m glad that you’ve got a goal to aim for, but how’re you gonna do it?”
Ryan cracked a mischievous smile, giving Logan a look that sent a little shiver down his back. He knew that look. Oh, he knew that look. Trouble was coming.
Method
Well Logan, my good friend, that’s where you come in! I have an idea, a theory, a breakthrough! The main problem is the slugs’ lack of cognitive ability. Well it just so happens that one of my colleagues is working on a neuron growth promoter, top secret of course. Normally I wouldn’t have access, but let’s just say that I helped with his homework and he’s helping with mine.”
Ryan nodded towards a small glass vial nearby the slug tank. That must be the neuron growth stuff.
“Unfortunately, that alone would only produce slugs that are better at being slugs. Not exactly what we need. It would require far too much training to reach the levels needed for true mind control. That’s where another little gadget comes in.”
Ryan gestured towards something else near the tank. It looked like a bundle of multi-colored wires, each wire connected to a small device that had a suction cup.
“This is a prototype electroencephalogram, or EEG. It detects electrical activity within your brain, amplifies it, and sends it to the target. I’m sure you’re catching onto my idea now. We’ll be sending your brainwaves into a slug injected with the neural growth promoter. This external stimulation combined with the neuron growth will potentially create neural pathways within the slug that mirror yours.”
Logan took a moment to let things sink in. Ryan had conducted plenty of wild experiments in high school, Logan being intimately involved in most of them. All of them were attempts at something never done before, but at least they were somewhat based in reality. This experiment seemed to jump over that line and land fully into the territory of fantasy and madness. Combining all this experimental tech in an attempt to create mind controlling slugs? This had to be desperation more than anything else.
“Why’s it gotta be my brain waves? You’re the most intelligent person I know, so wouldn’t your brain waves be better?”
“Thanks, but if I could do this alone, I would have. The slugs wouldn’t just mirror the intelligence of the donor, but also their traits. I wouldn’t describe myself as particularly obedient, so it would be a big problem if the slugs mirrored me. You, on the other hand, have always been very… generous and helpful. I couldn’t think of a better person to ask.”
Logan wasn’t quite happy about being called generous and helpful in this context. He could tell that she really meant obedient, willing to make a fool of himself for her sake. In high school, Ryan always took advantage of Logan’s affection for her, and he gratefully allowed it. Anything to get the girl right? Well, it didn’t end up that way. He assisted Ryan in many of her experiments, sometimes to his detriment.
There were lots of reasons and rationalizations.
Teenage hormones, desperately avoiding loneliness, a dose of simple adolescent stupidity, all things that Logan told himself he completely left behind in the past. Reflecting on it over the years after graduation, he vowed to never allow himself to be taken advantage of like that again. Yet here he was, having his resolve put to the test.
Ryan could tell that Logan was deliberating. There was a possibility that he’d make the wrong choice. She leaned a little closer to him, looking up with a gentle expression.
“Please? I’m in a real tough spot here, and I could really use some help. Please Logan?”
Logan kept his expression stern as he gazed upon Ryan’s fragile beauty, looking into her pleading eyes. It wasn’t the first time that she’d used this trick. In high school, this was her ace-in-the-hole to convince Logan against his better judgment. And it worked every time. Logan let out a little sigh as he relaxed a little. It couldn’t hurt to get some more info right?
“What are the risks?”
Ryan broke into a smile, happy to hear that her faithful assistant was still her’s.
“None, absolutely none. You just put on the EEG’s electrodes and they’ll record everything that we need. No risks at all.”
Logan kept his expression even as he made his choice. He looked at Ryan again, searching for any indication of a lie or half-truth. She looked genuine, a real friend in need. Well, there really was no choice. To refuse at this point would be cruel. Logan hoped this wouldn’t end poorly.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. This means the world to me. I’ll make it up to you later, but let’s begin the experiment as soon as possible.”
Ryan pulled up a chair for Logan, indicating to take a seat. She then grabbed a petri dish, went over to the slug tank with a pair of tongs, and carefully lifted a wiggly green critter onto the dish. She set it near Logan, and he glanced over. It almost felt like the slug was looking back at him with its little antennae.
It took a while, but eventually every single one of the numerous electrodes were attached to Logan’s head. Each electrode connected to a wire, all of which met in a braid that connected to a small device. The small metal box was connected to Ryan’s lab computer, and also had another side where a smaller braid of wires exited. Those tiny wires went over to the slug, where they connected to miniature electrodes that were placed all over the slug’s body.
“Alright, checks done, double checks done. I think we’re ready to go. Hanging in there
Logan?”
Logan had tried his best to keep still while the electrodes were put on him, as if he was getting a haircut. He also made an effort to avoid staring at Ryan as she worked. He didn’t want to creep her out or make things awkward, but for him, she was the only thing worth looking at in this lab. The way that her white lab coat contoured over her perfect figure, the way she moved around him, the view of her chest when she put the electrodes on his head…
“Yeah, I’m fine. Ready to go.”
“Okay, perfect. Then let’s begin the experiment.”
Ryan went back to the tank and took the vial of neuron growth promoter along with a syringe. Logan watched as she carefully measured out a dosage. After loading the syringe, Ryan carefully injected its contents into the slug. She then returned to her computer.
“Let’s hope for the best.”
With that, she activated the EEG. The device began to record Logan’s brain waves, sending them into the slug. Logan didn’t feel anything different on his end. The slug seemed fine too. Ryan turned a tablet screen towards Logan and started to play a video. It showed a slideshow of various things, ranging from apples to horses to people to mountains and much more. The video was supposed to help Logan’s brain stay active and somewhat direct the learning for the slug.
“Okay, everything looks good. It’ll be a few hours, but I’ll be here with you. If anything happens, let me know immediately. Again, I just want to say thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.”
Experiment
The first ten minutes were fine. Just look at the pictures and videos on the tablet, easy right?
The next ten minutes were the toughest. Logan had to stay disciplined, forcing himself to sit still and keep watching. Every image that appeared on the tablet blended and blurred with the last. Logan even found it difficult to keep his eyes focussed.
Another ten minutes later, Logan managed to fall into a sustainable rhythm of sorts, and wasn’t struggling as much. He started playing a little mental game with the images, trying to improvise a story with each object that popped up on the tablet screen.
The man in a black suit… went to the windmill?
And in the windmill he… found a flock of sheep. Okay, so he was actually a manager for the mill, and the sheep were workers on a break. As a reward for hard work, the manager gave each of them a… butterknife? Woah, okay, so the manager was actually inciting the sheep to revolt against their oppressors. The oppressors that were forcing the sheep to work were… mongooses… mongeese?
The story unfurled itself, on and on, sometimes needing the occasional reset. Logan did his best to keep his neurons activated for this experiment. He kept going and going and going, persevering and relentless. To his credit, he managed to keep his focus most of the time, but as the process dragged on, his focus wavered more and more. The ideas were less creative, the mental image grew blurry, and the plot moved slower. Logan tried to pull himself back into the groove, but his descent was inevitable at this point. His mind grew dimmer and dimmer, a dark fog growing thicker and more impenetrable until the last candle flame of thought flickered out, and nothing remained.
…
…
…
Ryan checked up on Logan, looking over at him slightly slumped in his chair. His head was slightly tilted to the side and his eyes were closed. Must’ve dozed off. She had already noticed that Logan was struggling to stay awake for some time. Unfortunately, any stimulant like coffee could affect the experiment, so Ryan would have to wake him up everytime he nodded off.
Ryan got up and walked over to Logan, shaking him by the shoulder.
“Logan? Logan wake up.”
No response. She shook him harder. Nothing. She lightly tapped him on the cheek. Still nothing. She carefully opened his eyelid. Logan’s eye blankly stared back at her. Ryan felt a wave of dread flood through her. Logan? Logan!
…
…
…
Ryan had done everything that she could. Logan was unconscious when she found him. She had immediately called for help, and he was rushed to the hospital by paramedics. She was in shock. What happened? What caused this? Was it the experiment? Impossible. But the timing… Healthy young men like him don’t just… stop, not like this.
Ryan knew that she was screwed. Even if it somehow wasn’t her fault, there was no way that SynthraForma would overlook all the attention she was bringing in.
Ryan sat in her little corner of the lab, feeling hollowed out like an empty shell. Her eyes drifted to Logan’s empty chair. He was just there, not long ago, healthy and energetic.
The prototype EEG laid on the floor nearby, still in the same place that it landed after
Ryan had yanked it off of Logan’s head when trying to wake him. Ryan knew that the prototype EEG and neuron growth promoter would cast a lot of suspicion on the situation, but hiding or destroying evidence would practically be an admission of guilt. Ryan knew that there was a good chance that the experiment had nothing to do with Logan’s sudden decline, and that it was just a coincidence. But there was no way for her to know. She’d have to wait to hear from the hospital, or the police.
While Ryan was sitting, sorting through her thoughts, her supervisor Doctor Li showed up.
“I’m sure you’re shaken by all of this. Go home. I’ll give you a call if we need anything from you. Don’t even think about coming to work until you’ve fully recovered from this shocking incident, okay?”
Ryan didn’t want to respond, she didn’t even make eye contact. She just continued sitting with her head hung as Doctor Li promptly left. When Ryan heard the sound of the lab door closing, she raised her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tank of slugs. A sudden rush of heat filled her body as she felt a fierce hatred towards them. Stupid fucking slugs! She wanted to get a hammer and smash the tank, crushing the pathetic little bastards.
But she restrained herself. She just glared at them, cursing their very existence. Freaks of nature. She got up from her seat, deciding that the privacy of her apartment would indeed be better than sulking in the lab. She reached over and grabbed her white lab coat. She had taken it off earlier while trying to help Logan.
Ryan stuck her left arm through its sleeve before draping it over her back and filling out the other sleeve. As she left the lab, Ryan was completely unaware of the little green hitchhiker in her lab coat’s pocket.
Recalibration
Dark…
Familiar… smell… Rough… all over…
Where…?
…
Hungry…
Move…
Need to move…
That way…
…
In the darkest hours of the night, a little green slug crawled out of a lab coat pocket thrown on top of a laundry basket. Confused and disoriented, it did the only thing that it could, follow its instincts.
Delicate slivers of moonlight leaked through the thin blinds of the bedroom. The room wasn’t particularly messy or clean, just lived-in. There were two beds opposite to each other in this small space. The plucky little slug crawled along the floor, inch by inch, towards the bed on the right.
Progress was slow, but steady. A few inches every minute. The slug finally reached the foot of the bed and began its journey upwards. It climbed against gravity, leaving a shiny trail of slime behind on the wood. After a few minutes, the unyielding green spelunker reached the top of the bed, where a sleeping beauty lay enveloped in a peaceful slumber. Her chest periodically rose and fell as silent breaths came and went.
The slug continued, crawling onto the sheets of the bed, eventually making its way onto the pillow. The slug’s small, pulsating body made the insidious last legs of its journey as it aimed for a small opening.
The slug touched the sleeping woman’s skin, feeling her warmth as it began to climb the side of her neck. She didn’t even stir. The slug climbed closer, closer, until it reached… the entrance. The slug dipped itself into her ear, pushing its head in and quickly filling the small tunnel’s width. The slug squeezed its malleable body into the small space, crawling deeper and deeper and deeper…
The woman stirred a little. A small readjustment of the body in response to mild discomfort. A light groan escaped her lips, as if she was just having a bad dream. There was no way to know that something was entering her… invading her… burrowing deep deep inside. She would undoubtedly panic if she was awake, if she knew what was happening to her, but it was just the slug’s luck that she was deep asleep, that she was defenseless.
Deep inside her head, the slug finally felt… satisfaction. It had reached its destination. Now, it could rest, just for a little. The woman’s body settled back down, returning to its restful state. Her breathing returned to a slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. The only thing amiss was a small trail of dried slug fluid.
However, instead of trying to fix things when she discovers this, Ryan sets her sights on fulfilling her all longheld ambitions with Logan's newfound abilities.
Logan is initially keen with just going along things as he possesses more bodies and pushes the extent of his capabilities. However, when a desire to be more than just her golden goose begins to stir within him, he soon finds himself starting to make plans to fulfill his own longheld desires...
Abstract
In a drab concrete parking structure, sitting inside a car that looked too small for his large frame, a sizable young man silently debated a life choice. It had occupied his mind for days, ever since a certain woman from his past had reached out for the first time in years. Even though he felt indecisive, he had a few mental tools to help him make his mind up. No matter how big the choice, the real decision was whether to start the engine back up and drive away… or open the car door and step out.
…
With a muted pop, the car door swung open.
He had already driven this far, turning back would be a waste of time and gas. Maybe the choice had already been made the very instant he got into his car earlier. Then all the worrying afterwards was just pointless emotion, the last-minute anxiety and doubt that comes with seeing “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” on the gates of hell despite knowing exactly what must be done.
The large man’s heavy footsteps made the only sound in the echoing gray maze. He was a tall mountain of a man that few would challenge physically. He was dressed nicely enough, something a little more than casual, something to wear when reuniting with an old… friend. After exiting the parking structure, he found himself a short distance away from a security booth, its red and white bar hanging guarding the street entrance and a separate pedestrian gate on the opposite side. Behind the booth’s bulletproof glass, a uniformed guard watched the man approach, asking for his ID as soon as he was close enough.
“Name and date of birth?”
“Logan Miller, February 19th. It says on my ID.”
“Reason for visiting?”
“I’m getting a tour from Ryan Everly.”
The guard returned Logan’s ID alongside a freshly printed plastic badge on a lanyard. An audible metallic click could be heard from the pedestrian gate. Logan passed through the gate and headed towards the monolithic building ahead.
As Logan walked, he inspected the plastic badge he was given. At the top, a logo for SynthraForma, followed by VISITOR in bold black letters, then his name, face, and a barcode with small numbers beneath.
Reaching the entrance, he tried the door handle and found it locked. He tried to use his badge on a nearby reader, but it beeped and showed a red light in rejection. Just as Logan was thinking of returning to the guard, the locked doors violently swung open from the inside. Barely dodging the doors, Logan suddenly stood before a stunning woman.
Beautiful red hair that instantly drew stares, captivating hazel eyes that were framed by complementary glasses, flawless skin that supermodels would envy, and a killer figure underneath a white lab coat. Ryan Everly, Logan’s high school best friend that he hadn’t seen since. She cracked a charming smile on her rosy lips, and spoke with her enchanting voice.
“Long time no see. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”
Introduction
Logan hadn’t seen Ryan since graduating high school a considerable number of years ago. In the past she was already pretty, but during the years that he hadn’t seen her, Ryan’s natural beauty was further enhanced to perfection. Judging by her current workplace, her intellect had no problems keeping pace either. Logan gave a polite smile and met Ryan’s mesmerizing eyes.
“Yeah, it sure has. How have you been?”
Ryan’s smile remained, but something subtle changed in her expression.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to lie to a friend. I’ve been a bit busy recently. Deadlines, disappointing results, and demanding superiors. You know how it can be. But anyways, I’m so glad you went out of your way to come here. I really appreciate it.”
Logan did expend quite some effort to get there. Scarce paid-time-off was spent from his job as an office clerk, not to mention the cost of a rental car and hotel. Still, it was a trip that he needed to take for his own sake, not just Ryan’s.
“It’s good to see you too. I can’t wait to see what you’ve been up to. Cured cancer or something?”
Ryan let out a little giggle that played like melodic birdsong in Logan’s ears.
“Well then, let me show you. Welcome to SynthraForma. I obviously can’t give you a full tour of the lab. In fact, even I don’t have access to everything, but I’ll show you what I can. Just a reminder, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? Not. A single. Breath.”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.”
Ryan accepted Logan’s promise and both of them entered the building. He stepped into a long hallway illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Before Logan could go anywhere, Ryan pointed towards a part of the wall next to the door. There was a plastic mount that held a stack of blank forms, a clipboard, and a pen on a string.
“Just a silly little NDA, for the suits and whatnot. Every visitor has to fill one out, but we don’t get that many visitors anyways.”
Logan gave it a quick skim before signing it, submitting the document in an empty slot clearly meant to receive them. Ryan then led him down the hallway. There were no windows inside, only heavy metal doors flanking them on both sides. Occasionally, there were laminated papers taped onto the walls, usually displaying some information or reminder for the employees.
Don’t hold doors open for others.
Keep your badge clearly visible at all times.
Thoroughly wash your hands before eating.
The potluck is this friday.
Finally, the two of them reached a door no different from the others. Ryan used her badge to unlock it and entered with Logan following behind. Now past three layers of security, Logan found himself in an unexpectedly mundane office. There were uniform cubicles to both sides, some with small decorations and knick knacks to add a splash of personality.
“These are our desks. It’s not glamorous, but most of our work happens here. Compiling data, writing reports, reading emails… Not very exciting, but it’s part of the job. This one is mine.”
Ryan’s desk had a computer like the others, with that addition of multiple stacks of books and papers, not to mention a couple of mugs with coffee stains. It looked like Ryan was about to say something, but someone else caught her attention. A woman was approaching them, dressed in the professional attire of a white button-up blouse and suit pants. She looked Asian, around her mid thirties, with light makeup and her hair in a bun. The authoritative click of her heels almost served as an introduction.
“Hello, you must be Ryan’s guest. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your tour, I just need to have a little chat with Ryan if that’s okay.”
Her words were sharp and assertive, ensuring that no one would challenge them. Logan certainly didn’t want to at least.
“I don’t mind at all. I’m Logan. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss…”
“Doctor. Doctor Li, SynthraForma research supervisor, pleased to meet you too Logan.”
“Anyways Ryan, I’ll make this quick. The deadline for your current project is coming up. I have great expectations of you, and I’ll make sure that your future assignments will reflect how well you perform here. I’m sure an incredible breakthrough is just on the horizon.”
Doctor Li left as quickly as she arrived, not waiting for Ryan to respond. Looking at Ryan, Logan could tell that she wasn’t particularly happy about her supervisor’s reminder. Her face didn’t give much away, but her silence and stiff body language gave it away. It took her a moment to compose herself, before she returned to Logan.
“I guess the tour wouldn’t be complete without an introduction to my kind and caring supervisor. Anyways, let’s get on with it.”
Ryan left her cubicle and promptly started walking again with Logan in tow. They reached another door that required Ryan’s badge. Logan noticed way more signage on this door than the ones before, being plastered with a variety of colorful symbols and labels warning about hazards of all kinds. Past the door, Logan saw a proper laboratory, filled with multitudes of complex-looking devices.
“Here on the left, high temperature superconductors.”
She carelessly gestured towards a workstation full of electronics, wires, and gas tanks of some kind.
Curiously, there was a plush of a squid on one of the workstation shelves. Ryan continued walking on without sparing a moment for Logan to really look.
“Over here on the right, artificial neural networks composed of lab-grown neurons.”
This workstation had a big microscope, with a collection of slides and plastic petri dishes next to it. Tons of papers, binders, and books filled this station out. Again, Ryan practically walked right past it, barely sparing the effort to mention it in her tour. This continued for the rest of the workstations until they reached the back of the lab.
“And here, in the back corner… my project… the slug project.”
Hypothesis
Ryan gestured to a small rectangular glass tank with some twigs and bedding. Logan had to lean in close to spot the first slug. It was an unremarkable little green thing, no different from something you’d find in somebody’s garden. Still though, being in this lab, there had to be more than met the eye. Or Ryan was pranking him.
Either way, Logan’s best choice was to play along.
“Interesting. What’s special about them?”
“These unassuming little blobs are a new species discovered in the Amazon. They were found in primate brains and initially mistaken for some sort of large parasitic worm. However, their biology and behavior is significantly different. A mature slug, ready to lay eggs, has the unique ability to enter a host’s brain without damaging the surrounding tissue, where it influences the host’s behavior. It compels the host to climb into the forest canopy, where it exits the host’s body and safely lays its eggs high up in the trees.”
Logan looked at the slugs again, watching as one lazily crawled on a leaf of lettuce. Brain slugs huh? It reminded him of something out of a sci-fi show, the image of a big green blob with a single eye coming to mind.
“The higher ups say that they’re interested in the mechanics of how it enters and exits the host's brain without damaging anything. They say that it could be a revolution in neurosurgery. But I think that we all know what really brings in all the funding. Mind control.”
Logan almost had to hold back a chuckle. It sounded more like the premise to a horror video game or movie, a cheap one at that.
Experimenting with mind control slugs? Logan was waiting for Ryan to tell the punch line at this point.
“We’ve studied their natural behavior and made significant progress. We’ve selectively bred them to trigger their ‘control’ behavior independent from their breeding cycle, and to extend that control duration. We’ve conducted limited human testing and confirmed compatibility and functionality as well.”
“Human testing?”
“Yes, of course. Given the premise of this project, it would be unavoidable, don't you think?”
Logan was able to avoid laughing out loud, but he couldn’t help a little grin. He was surprised by the matter-of-fact tone that Ryan was able to keep up. So she had tested these mind control slugs on people huh?
“Well, who’d you test this on?”
“For obvious reasons, I can’t discuss any of their identities, but they were all fully consenting individuals that were compensated for their involvement. Also, I should mention that I wasn’t working on this project during the period that these tests were conducted, so I had no direct involvement. I’ve only joined recently.”
Logan was a little confused by her response. That little fact at the end there didn’t seem to be a part of the joke, it seemed a little too realistic. The idea bothered Logan. Maybe she wasn’t joking. Maybe this was real. What kind of place was Ryan working at? Logan shifted to a more serious tone.
“Hold on. This whole slug thing. The human testing. Doesn’t that… I don’t know, concern you or something? Like, the stuff that you’re working on… this whole project seems…”
“Unethical? Inhuman? Evil? I certainly thought so too when I was first assigned, but the project’s current state is far from what it was in the past.”
Ryan picked up a spray bottle next to the tank, opened its lid, and spritzed some clear fluid around the enclosure before closing it again.
“Everything I told you about was done years ago. The project hit a wall. The slugs just couldn’t execute complex commands, only the most basic trained actions in response to verbal triggers. A far cry from mind control. Continued investments of time and resources yielded nothing, resulting in researchers and funding getting pulled. When I was assigned to this project, it was already dead and buried for a long time.”
Logan could see tints of frustration in Ryan. He had seen her get frustrated at hitches in experiments before, but this seemed like a deeper kind of frustration. She probably felt trapped with a project like this.
“Currently, most of my day-to-day is being a slug keeper. Moisturize the habitat at least twice a day, feed the slugs and replace the food before it rots, replace the soil every few weeks. I’m almost envious of Sisyphus, at least he got a boulder.”
“Sorry to hear that you’ve had it so rough. Maybe it would be a good idea to ask for a different project, or just leave all this behind and look for a different lab?”
“Oh believe me I’ve tried, but there are certain… factors… that prevent me from transfering projects. Leaving for another lab isn’t a good option either. No lab in this country can compare to SynthraForma’s. The resources and secrecy here are exactly what I need.”
Hmm… it seemed like Ryan was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Any choice would be a compromise, and a pretty lousy one at that. Watching Ryan’s expressions, Logan could tell she wasn’t happy about things, but she seemed to perk up as she continued speaking.
“It’s not all doom and gloom though, I have a plan. Imagine this. I succeed with this project out of nowhere. Why, news of such a miracle will go straight to the highest executives. They’ll hear that little ol’ me, a single researcher with no support, managed to break through an impenetrable wall that defeated the best of the best. I’ll get the recognition I deserve and free reign to work on what I want.”
Logan could see a flame burning within Ryan, a determination that pushed her forward.
Instead of admitting defeat, she was fighting harder than ever before. Logan was worried that Ryan was feeling down, maybe searching for solace or even pity, but those worries were cleared by her display of brash, unashamed confidence. He almost wanted to start applauding her.
“I’m glad that you’ve got a goal to aim for, but how’re you gonna do it?”
Ryan cracked a mischievous smile, giving Logan a look that sent a little shiver down his back. He knew that look. Oh, he knew that look. Trouble was coming.
Method
Well Logan, my good friend, that’s where you come in! I have an idea, a theory, a breakthrough! The main problem is the slugs’ lack of cognitive ability. Well it just so happens that one of my colleagues is working on a neuron growth promoter, top secret of course. Normally I wouldn’t have access, but let’s just say that I helped with his homework and he’s helping with mine.”
Ryan nodded towards a small glass vial nearby the slug tank. That must be the neuron growth stuff.
“Unfortunately, that alone would only produce slugs that are better at being slugs. Not exactly what we need. It would require far too much training to reach the levels needed for true mind control. That’s where another little gadget comes in.”
Ryan gestured towards something else near the tank. It looked like a bundle of multi-colored wires, each wire connected to a small device that had a suction cup.
“This is a prototype electroencephalogram, or EEG. It detects electrical activity within your brain, amplifies it, and sends it to the target. I’m sure you’re catching onto my idea now. We’ll be sending your brainwaves into a slug injected with the neural growth promoter. This external stimulation combined with the neuron growth will potentially create neural pathways within the slug that mirror yours.”
Logan took a moment to let things sink in. Ryan had conducted plenty of wild experiments in high school, Logan being intimately involved in most of them. All of them were attempts at something never done before, but at least they were somewhat based in reality. This experiment seemed to jump over that line and land fully into the territory of fantasy and madness. Combining all this experimental tech in an attempt to create mind controlling slugs? This had to be desperation more than anything else.
“Why’s it gotta be my brain waves? You’re the most intelligent person I know, so wouldn’t your brain waves be better?”
“Thanks, but if I could do this alone, I would have. The slugs wouldn’t just mirror the intelligence of the donor, but also their traits. I wouldn’t describe myself as particularly obedient, so it would be a big problem if the slugs mirrored me. You, on the other hand, have always been very… generous and helpful. I couldn’t think of a better person to ask.”
Logan wasn’t quite happy about being called generous and helpful in this context. He could tell that she really meant obedient, willing to make a fool of himself for her sake. In high school, Ryan always took advantage of Logan’s affection for her, and he gratefully allowed it. Anything to get the girl right? Well, it didn’t end up that way. He assisted Ryan in many of her experiments, sometimes to his detriment.
There were lots of reasons and rationalizations.
Teenage hormones, desperately avoiding loneliness, a dose of simple adolescent stupidity, all things that Logan told himself he completely left behind in the past. Reflecting on it over the years after graduation, he vowed to never allow himself to be taken advantage of like that again. Yet here he was, having his resolve put to the test.
Ryan could tell that Logan was deliberating. There was a possibility that he’d make the wrong choice. She leaned a little closer to him, looking up with a gentle expression.
“Please? I’m in a real tough spot here, and I could really use some help. Please Logan?”
Logan kept his expression stern as he gazed upon Ryan’s fragile beauty, looking into her pleading eyes. It wasn’t the first time that she’d used this trick. In high school, this was her ace-in-the-hole to convince Logan against his better judgment. And it worked every time. Logan let out a little sigh as he relaxed a little. It couldn’t hurt to get some more info right?
“What are the risks?”
Ryan broke into a smile, happy to hear that her faithful assistant was still her’s.
“None, absolutely none. You just put on the EEG’s electrodes and they’ll record everything that we need. No risks at all.”
Logan kept his expression even as he made his choice. He looked at Ryan again, searching for any indication of a lie or half-truth. She looked genuine, a real friend in need. Well, there really was no choice. To refuse at this point would be cruel. Logan hoped this wouldn’t end poorly.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. This means the world to me. I’ll make it up to you later, but let’s begin the experiment as soon as possible.”
Ryan pulled up a chair for Logan, indicating to take a seat. She then grabbed a petri dish, went over to the slug tank with a pair of tongs, and carefully lifted a wiggly green critter onto the dish. She set it near Logan, and he glanced over. It almost felt like the slug was looking back at him with its little antennae.
It took a while, but eventually every single one of the numerous electrodes were attached to Logan’s head. Each electrode connected to a wire, all of which met in a braid that connected to a small device. The small metal box was connected to Ryan’s lab computer, and also had another side where a smaller braid of wires exited. Those tiny wires went over to the slug, where they connected to miniature electrodes that were placed all over the slug’s body.
“Alright, checks done, double checks done. I think we’re ready to go. Hanging in there
Logan?”
Logan had tried his best to keep still while the electrodes were put on him, as if he was getting a haircut. He also made an effort to avoid staring at Ryan as she worked. He didn’t want to creep her out or make things awkward, but for him, she was the only thing worth looking at in this lab. The way that her white lab coat contoured over her perfect figure, the way she moved around him, the view of her chest when she put the electrodes on his head…
“Yeah, I’m fine. Ready to go.”
“Okay, perfect. Then let’s begin the experiment.”
Ryan went back to the tank and took the vial of neuron growth promoter along with a syringe. Logan watched as she carefully measured out a dosage. After loading the syringe, Ryan carefully injected its contents into the slug. She then returned to her computer.
“Let’s hope for the best.”
With that, she activated the EEG. The device began to record Logan’s brain waves, sending them into the slug. Logan didn’t feel anything different on his end. The slug seemed fine too. Ryan turned a tablet screen towards Logan and started to play a video. It showed a slideshow of various things, ranging from apples to horses to people to mountains and much more. The video was supposed to help Logan’s brain stay active and somewhat direct the learning for the slug.
“Okay, everything looks good. It’ll be a few hours, but I’ll be here with you. If anything happens, let me know immediately. Again, I just want to say thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.”
Experiment
The first ten minutes were fine. Just look at the pictures and videos on the tablet, easy right?
The next ten minutes were the toughest. Logan had to stay disciplined, forcing himself to sit still and keep watching. Every image that appeared on the tablet blended and blurred with the last. Logan even found it difficult to keep his eyes focussed.
Another ten minutes later, Logan managed to fall into a sustainable rhythm of sorts, and wasn’t struggling as much. He started playing a little mental game with the images, trying to improvise a story with each object that popped up on the tablet screen.
The man in a black suit… went to the windmill?
And in the windmill he… found a flock of sheep. Okay, so he was actually a manager for the mill, and the sheep were workers on a break. As a reward for hard work, the manager gave each of them a… butterknife? Woah, okay, so the manager was actually inciting the sheep to revolt against their oppressors. The oppressors that were forcing the sheep to work were… mongooses… mongeese?
The story unfurled itself, on and on, sometimes needing the occasional reset. Logan did his best to keep his neurons activated for this experiment. He kept going and going and going, persevering and relentless. To his credit, he managed to keep his focus most of the time, but as the process dragged on, his focus wavered more and more. The ideas were less creative, the mental image grew blurry, and the plot moved slower. Logan tried to pull himself back into the groove, but his descent was inevitable at this point. His mind grew dimmer and dimmer, a dark fog growing thicker and more impenetrable until the last candle flame of thought flickered out, and nothing remained.
…
…
…
Ryan checked up on Logan, looking over at him slightly slumped in his chair. His head was slightly tilted to the side and his eyes were closed. Must’ve dozed off. She had already noticed that Logan was struggling to stay awake for some time. Unfortunately, any stimulant like coffee could affect the experiment, so Ryan would have to wake him up everytime he nodded off.
Ryan got up and walked over to Logan, shaking him by the shoulder.
“Logan? Logan wake up.”
No response. She shook him harder. Nothing. She lightly tapped him on the cheek. Still nothing. She carefully opened his eyelid. Logan’s eye blankly stared back at her. Ryan felt a wave of dread flood through her. Logan? Logan!
…
…
…
Ryan had done everything that she could. Logan was unconscious when she found him. She had immediately called for help, and he was rushed to the hospital by paramedics. She was in shock. What happened? What caused this? Was it the experiment? Impossible. But the timing… Healthy young men like him don’t just… stop, not like this.
Ryan knew that she was screwed. Even if it somehow wasn’t her fault, there was no way that SynthraForma would overlook all the attention she was bringing in.
Ryan sat in her little corner of the lab, feeling hollowed out like an empty shell. Her eyes drifted to Logan’s empty chair. He was just there, not long ago, healthy and energetic.
The prototype EEG laid on the floor nearby, still in the same place that it landed after
Ryan had yanked it off of Logan’s head when trying to wake him. Ryan knew that the prototype EEG and neuron growth promoter would cast a lot of suspicion on the situation, but hiding or destroying evidence would practically be an admission of guilt. Ryan knew that there was a good chance that the experiment had nothing to do with Logan’s sudden decline, and that it was just a coincidence. But there was no way for her to know. She’d have to wait to hear from the hospital, or the police.
While Ryan was sitting, sorting through her thoughts, her supervisor Doctor Li showed up.
“I’m sure you’re shaken by all of this. Go home. I’ll give you a call if we need anything from you. Don’t even think about coming to work until you’ve fully recovered from this shocking incident, okay?”
Ryan didn’t want to respond, she didn’t even make eye contact. She just continued sitting with her head hung as Doctor Li promptly left. When Ryan heard the sound of the lab door closing, she raised her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tank of slugs. A sudden rush of heat filled her body as she felt a fierce hatred towards them. Stupid fucking slugs! She wanted to get a hammer and smash the tank, crushing the pathetic little bastards.
But she restrained herself. She just glared at them, cursing their very existence. Freaks of nature. She got up from her seat, deciding that the privacy of her apartment would indeed be better than sulking in the lab. She reached over and grabbed her white lab coat. She had taken it off earlier while trying to help Logan.
Ryan stuck her left arm through its sleeve before draping it over her back and filling out the other sleeve. As she left the lab, Ryan was completely unaware of the little green hitchhiker in her lab coat’s pocket.
Recalibration
Dark…
Familiar… smell… Rough… all over…
Where…?
…
Hungry…
Move…
Need to move…
That way…
…
In the darkest hours of the night, a little green slug crawled out of a lab coat pocket thrown on top of a laundry basket. Confused and disoriented, it did the only thing that it could, follow its instincts.
Delicate slivers of moonlight leaked through the thin blinds of the bedroom. The room wasn’t particularly messy or clean, just lived-in. There were two beds opposite to each other in this small space. The plucky little slug crawled along the floor, inch by inch, towards the bed on the right.
Progress was slow, but steady. A few inches every minute. The slug finally reached the foot of the bed and began its journey upwards. It climbed against gravity, leaving a shiny trail of slime behind on the wood. After a few minutes, the unyielding green spelunker reached the top of the bed, where a sleeping beauty lay enveloped in a peaceful slumber. Her chest periodically rose and fell as silent breaths came and went.
The slug continued, crawling onto the sheets of the bed, eventually making its way onto the pillow. The slug’s small, pulsating body made the insidious last legs of its journey as it aimed for a small opening.
The slug touched the sleeping woman’s skin, feeling her warmth as it began to climb the side of her neck. She didn’t even stir. The slug climbed closer, closer, until it reached… the entrance. The slug dipped itself into her ear, pushing its head in and quickly filling the small tunnel’s width. The slug squeezed its malleable body into the small space, crawling deeper and deeper and deeper…
The woman stirred a little. A small readjustment of the body in response to mild discomfort. A light groan escaped her lips, as if she was just having a bad dream. There was no way to know that something was entering her… invading her… burrowing deep deep inside. She would undoubtedly panic if she was awake, if she knew what was happening to her, but it was just the slug’s luck that she was deep asleep, that she was defenseless.
Deep inside her head, the slug finally felt… satisfaction. It had reached its destination. Now, it could rest, just for a little. The woman’s body settled back down, returning to its restful state. Her breathing returned to a slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. The only thing amiss was a small trail of dried slug fluid.
mtf
+7 more
2
12.9K
861
3
7
Inspired by a comic.
Silas possesses a metaphysical ability known as Soul Partitioning, allowing him to excise a fragment of his own consciousness and project it into a host's mind through direct ocular contact. This "hit" doesn't merely brainwash the victim; it effectively overwrites their core identity with his own, causing them to experience a total shift in self-perception where they believe they are Silas.
'Its cold! Come inside!' she said, her voice bright and welcoming. Rachel stepped aside to let Silas in.
Silas stood in the foyer, while Rachel closed the door with a click that sounded far too final.
"Make yourself at home," she said, her voice carrying a devilish smirk that twisted her features into something predatory and sharp. It was a look Rachel had never worn in her life.
She began to pace the hallway, but her gait was wrong. She moved with a heavy, masculine confidence, her hips swinging not out of grace, but as if she were testing the weight and balance of a new machine. As she spoke, her hands began to wander. She traced the curve of her own waist, her fingers digging into the soft flesh with an intense curiosity.
"It’s a nice place, isn't it?" she asked, though she wasn't looking at the decor. Her hand slid upward, her palm cupping her boobs through the thin fabric of her blouse. She squeezed, her eyes widening slightly as if the sensation were a foreign transmission. "Soft. I could get used to this."
She didn't wait for him to answer. She was already walking toward the sideboard in the dining room, pointing out a heavy silver tray.
"The silverware is genuine Georgian. Worth a fortune," she noted casually, her fingers now tracing the line of her collarbone. "The jewelry safe is behind the landscape painting in the study. Code is 0-4-1-2. My birthday. Or... her birthday, anyway."
The incongruity was sickening. To any passerby, she was a housewife giving a tour; to Silas, she was a victim meticulously betraying herself. She leaned against the wall, her legs crossing in a way that made her skirt hike up, and she stared at the skin of her thighs with the wonder of a child holding a new toy.
"Her husband, Mark, isn't here, obviously," she said, a bitter, Silas-like edge creeping into her tone. "He’s in Chicago. Business. Again. He’s always 'working,' always elsewhere." She let out a dry, jagged laugh, her hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling at her own hair to feel the tension on the scalp. "You want to know a secret, Silas? The last time we actually had sex was three months ago. Pathetic, right? I’m standing here in a body this... functional... and it’s just sitting here, gathering dust while he's at a Marriott in the Midwest."
She looked down at her hands, flexed them, and then looked back at him with a chilling intimacy. She was baring Rachel’s deepest, most private frustrations to a man she had met thirty seconds ago, yet she spoke with the total lack of shame one has when talking to oneself in a mirror.
"I feel so... empty," she whispered, her fingers grazing her lips. "But not anymore. Now that you're here, I finally feel like I’ve woken up."
*
A few moments ago...
The neighborhood was quiet—the kind of quiet that makes a lone footstep sound like a threat. Silas stopped in front of the cream-colored colonial, his shadow stretching long across the manicured lawn. He reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Inside, the muffled chime was followed by a heavy silence. Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of someone approaching.
The door didn't swing wide. It opened barely three inches, abruptly halted by the metallic snap of a security chain. Rachel peered through the gap, her face framed by the dark wood. Her posture was stiff, her hand visible on the edge of the door, knuckles white with tension. She was alone, and the sight of a strange man on her porch at this hour sent a visible ripple of unease through her.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice tight, barely a whisper. "Can I help you?"
Silas didn't answer immediately. He didn't need to. He stood perfectly still, letting his gaze lock onto hers through the narrow opening. He looked past the iris, past the pupil, searching for her very soul.
Then, it happened.
There was no sound, no flash of light. A fragment of his very essence, cold and sharp as a needle, surged forward. It didn't travel through the air like a physical object; it bypassed the space between them entirely. It left his eyes as a shimmering distortion, a microscopic ripple in reality that hit Rachel’s retinas with the force of a psychic collision.
Rachel didn't scream. She couldn't.
For a heartbeat, her world went gray. The "blur" hit her with a total desynchronization of her senses. Her brain tried to reject the intruder, but the fragment of Silas was already burrowing, weaving itself into her neural pathways, claiming her mind as its own. Rachel's eyes were momentarily blurred, just for a split second, as if her focus had snagged on something invisible. Then, they cleared, snapping back to a sharp, vivid clarity. A warm, unearned familiarity washed over her features.
Her grip on the door softened. The fear that had been radiating from her just a second ago didn't just vanish—it was rewritten into a soft and gracious smile. Slowly, her fingers moved to the chain. With a steady, rhythmic clink, she slid the bolt out of the track.
She opened the door wide, her expression shifting from a guarded mask to that unnatural, devilish smirk. She looked at him—man to man, soul to soul—even though she was trapped in the skin of a woman he had just broken.
*
Back to present...
I watched her—or rather, I watched myself—move through Rachel’s home with a thief’s appreciation and a conqueror’s pride. Her confession hung in the air between us, a raw, intimate truth that belonged to her, but was now mine to dissect.
“Gathering dust,” I echoed, my voice low. “A shame. Such a well-made machine should be running at full capacity.”
“Shouldn’t it?” she agreed, pushing herself off the wall. That predatory grin returned, but it was edged with something new—a hungry curiosity. “Come on. The tour isn’t finished. The best part’s upstairs.”
She led the way, her hand trailing up the polished banister. I followed, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. From behind, I could see the way her spine was held too straight, the set of her shoulders too broad for the delicate frame she inhabited. It was like watching a marionette controlled by a puppeteer who’d only read about human movement in a manual.
She paused at the top of the stairs, glancing back at me. “Her memories are… interesting. Like watching a very dull movie about someone else’s life. But the sensory data? The physical feedback? Oh, man... that’s the real prize.”
As she spoke, her hands came up to the buttons of her blouse. Without breaking eye contact, she began to undo them, one by one. The fabric parted, revealing a lace-edged bra and the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. “For example,” she said, her voice a clinical murmur. “The weight. We knew her breasts had weight, intellectually, just from looking. But feeling them pull, this constant, gentle anchor… it’s fascinating. And the sensitivity. Amazing.”
Her fingertips brushed over the lace covering her left nipple. A sharp, shuddering breath escaped her lips—Rachel’s lips. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second before snapping open, locked on mine. “See? A direct line. No filter. It’s all just… input.”
She turned and walked down the hallway, leaving her blouse hanging open. I followed her into the master bedroom. It was a spacious, airy room done in creams and soft blues. A large, neatly made bed dominated the space. A wedding photo in a silver frame sat on the nightstand—Rachel beaming, her husband Mark’s arm around her, both of them looking like a catalog for suburban bliss.
She went straight to it, picking up the frame. She studied the image with a tilted head, a faint frown on her face. “He looks earnest,” she said, her tone flat. “In her memories, he’s kind. Distant, but kind. She loved that. She mistook absence for stability. Too bad that she isn't here anymore. Hehe. ” She set the frame face down with a soft click. “Silly.”
Abandoning the blouse entirely, she let it slide off her shoulders to pool on the carpet. She stood there in her skirt and bra, her arms crossed over her chest, surveying the room as if it were a hotel suite. “This is where the neglect happened. Right here.” She walked to the bed and sat on the edge, bouncing slightly to test the mattress. “Firm. Good for his back, apparently. Not that it mattered.”
She lay back, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back off the comforter. The movement pushed her chest forward, and she let out a soft, experimental sigh. “She used to lie here,” she said, her voice drifting, almost dreamy as she tapped into Rachel’s stored experiences. “She’d stare at the ceiling and count the minutes until he’d come to bed. Sometimes he would, sometimes he wouldn’t. When he did, he’d just roll over and go to sleep. She’d listen to him breathe and feel this… hollowness. This ache. Aaaah” a moan escaped her lips.
One of her hands slid down from above her head, over the flat plane of her stomach, to the waistband of her skirt. Her fingers toyed with the zipper. “This body ached for him. For anyone. For something to fill that quiet.” She looked at me, her eyes dark and knowing. “But I’m not aching anymore. Now, I’m just… curious.”
She didn’t just open the zipper. She sat up slowly, sinuously, and turned to face me where I stood. Holding my gaze, she brought her other hand to the clasp at the side of her skirt. With a deliberate, tantalizing slowness, she undid it. The zipper gave way with a hushed, metallic whisper that seemed amplified in the quiet room. Then, still watching me, she wriggled her hips, pushing the skirt down over her thighs with a roll of her pelvis that was pure, calculated provocation. She kicked it away.
Now she knelt on the bed in just her bra and panties, her skin glowing. She wasn’t just lying back; she was presenting herself. “The curiosity is the best part,” she whispered, her hands sliding up her own thighs, past her hips, to cradle the curve of her waist. “It’s not her hunger. It’s mine. What does this body feel like when it’s touched? Not by a bored husband, but by an owner who’s truly interested in its functions?”
Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties. She peeled them down, an inch at a time, revealing the neat thatch of dark hair beneath. With a final, dismissive flick, the cotton joined the pile on the floor.
But she wasn’t done. The bra was next. She reached behind her back, her movements fluid, her eyes never leaving mine. She found the clasp, fumbled for a second with a show of mock-inexperience that was itself a lie—a seductress playing at innocence. The clasp released. She let the straps slide down her shoulders, but didn’t remove it yet. She cupped her breasts through the lace, lifting them, weighing them in her palms as if offering them to me.
“So sensitive,” she breathed, her thumbs brushing over her own nipples, which hardened instantly under the fabric. A soft gasp escaped her, but her smile was one of triumph. “Every nerve is a live wire. And they’re all mine to play with.”
Then, with a slow, theatrical shrug, she let the bra fall forward. It caught for a moment on the peaks of her breasts before she pulled it away entirely and let it drop. Now she was completely naked, kneeling before me like a offering and a conqueror both.
“Come here,” she commanded, but this time her voice was a low, smoky purr. It was my own voice, yes, but warped into something unbearably sensual. “Let’s see what this suite is capable of. Let’s test every single function.”
I approached the bed. She watched me, a panther assessing its prey. When I stood beside her, she didn’t reach for my hand. Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the fly of my trousers. I felt her breath, hot through the fabric. Her head tilted back, her eyes gleaming up at me. “The curiosity is… becoming a need,” she confessed, her voice thick.
Her hands came up, not to guide, but to claim. She unbuckled my belt with a sharp, practiced tug. The zipper came down with a rasp that echoed in the room. Her cool fingers wrapped around me, and she let out that low, appreciative hum—a sound that vibrated through her and into me. “A much better fit for this emptiness than his pathetic, distracted affection ever was.”
Then she moved, a fluid surge of power. Her hand shot to the back of my neck, and she pulled me down onto the bed with her. We landed in a heap, but she was already rolling, reversing our positions with a strength that was shocking. In an instant she was straddling my hips, her knees digging into the mattress, her naked body poised above mine. The wedding photo frame rattled violently on the nightstand.
She looked down at me, her hair a dark curtain around her face. That seductive, knowing smile was gone, replaced by something raw and ravenous. “She would never,” she growled, and the word was guttural, animal. She ground herself against me, the slick heat of her scorching even through my trousers. “She’d want the lights off. She’d be thinking about the goddamn dishwasher.” She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips a breath from mine. “But I want to see everything. I want to feel everything.”
With a brutal yank, she finished undressing me, pushing my trousers and boxers down my hips. Her cool hand wrapped around me again, stroking once, twice, a possessive claim. Then she positioned me at her entrance.
She didn’t sink down. She impaled herself.
In one fierce, relentless motion, she took me in to the hilt. Her head snapped back, and a raw, snarling cry was torn from her throat—a sound of violent victory. Her inner muscles clenched around me in a vicious, welcoming spasm.
“Oh, Gosh,” she groaned, but it was a snarl of conquest. She began to move, not with rhythm, but with a frantic, devouring hunger. Her hips pistoned, driving herself down onto me with a force that made the bedframe slam against the wall. Her hands braced on my chest, her nails digging in, drawing half-moons of sharp pleasure-pain.
“This!” she cried out, her voice breaking with each punishing thrust. “This is what it was for! Not for quiet! Not for waiting! For this!”
She was a frenzy above me, a storm of stolen sensation. Her back arched, her body a taut bowstring. She reached between her own legs, her fingers working her clit with a furious, desperate rhythm that matched the savage rocking of her hips. The sounds she made were not moans, but growls—primal, uninhibited, echoing in the violated bedroom.
“Look at me!” she demanded, her eyes wild, her face flushed with a depraved ecstasy. “Look at what you’re making me do! In her bed! On her sheets!”
She rode me with a brutality that was breathtaking. She leaned back, using her hands on my thighs for leverage, driving herself down again and again, taking everything. The headboard hammered the wall in a staccato drumbeat of their collision.
“She’d die of shame!” she panted, a wild, delirious laugh breaking through her gasps. “But I… I’ve never been more alive!”
Her movements lost all finesse, becoming a jagged, desperate chase for release. Her inner muscles fluttered and clenched in frantic, milking waves. Her breaths came in sharp, sobbing hitches.
“I’m… I’m gonna… now!” she screamed.
Her orgasm wasn’t a cresting wave; it was a detonation. It was a seismic event that racked her entire body. Her entire body seized, convulsing around me. She threw her head back and howled—a loud, uninhibited, house-shaking sound of pure, selfish triumph. Her hips jerked erratically as she ground herself against me, milking her own climax and mine with a greedy, relentless intensity.
As the last tremors shook her, she collapsed forward onto my chest, her sweat-slick body shuddering against mine, her breath hot and ragged in my ear. She nuzzled into my neck, her lips brushing my skin with deliberate, lingering kisses. After a moment, she lifted her head, a look of profound, conspiratorial satisfaction on her face—but now it was edged with a new, sly awareness.
She had filled the void not with gentle exploration, but with a raw, primal conquest that left the very air in the room crackling with spent energy. Yet, as the frenzy faded, a different electricity took its place: the cool, calculated current of a seductress surveying her domain.
She shifted, rolling off of me and onto her back, but she didn’t just stare at the ceiling. She stretched, a long, feline extension of her limbs that made her breasts rise and her stomach tauten, a living exhibit of her own stolen beauty. Her hand came up, trailing through the damp hair at her temple, and as it did, the overhead light caught the gold band on her finger.
She went very still, her eyes fixing on the wedding ring. A slow, deeply seductive smile spread across her lips—not just satisfied, but deliciously cruel.
“Oh, look,” she purred, her voice a throaty whisper. She raised her hand, turning it so the ring glinted. “Mark had to court me for weeks until I let him kiss me. Months until our first night.” She dropped her hand to my chest, her fingers splaying possessively over my heart. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto mine, gleaming with mischief. “And now you just came to the door… and came inside me, mister.” She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “That’s not fair to poor old Mark. Not fair at all.”
She traced a nail down the center of my chest. “He was always so… careful. So worried about doing things right.” Her voice dropped to a confidential murmur. “He’d ask if I was comfortable. If the pressure was okay. It was like making love to a user manual.” Her hand slid lower, over my stomach, her touch feather-light and incendiary. “But you… you didn’t ask. You just took. And you knew exactly how to make this body sing.”
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. The other hand continued its idle exploration of my arm, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle. “He thought patience was a virtue. All that waiting.” She smirked. “He never realized that what this vessel really needed wasn’t patience… it was someone with the confidence to just claim it.” Her eyes drifted to the overturned wedding photo. “His touches were like whispers. Yours?” She leaned close, her breath warm against my ear. “Yours are declarations. And my body… her body… understands the difference perfectly.”
She let out a contented, utterly wicked sigh and settled back against the rumpled sheets—sheets that now bore the indelible, intimate stain of her total betrayal, performed not just with a smile, but with a poet’s cruel flair for comparison.
“No hollowness now,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping over me with open ownership. “Just you. It feels… perfect.” She lifted her ring hand again, studying it as if it were a curious artifact. “I really should send him a thank you note. For being so… inadequate. He left everything so perfectly primed for a real man to finally use.”
*
Silas lay there for a few minutes more, listening to the ragged sound of her breathing slowly even out. The room smelled of sex and salt and a strange, metallic triumph. Finally, he shifted, disentangling himself from the damp sheets and her limp, sated limbs.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The air felt cool on his skin. Without a word, he began to gather his clothes from the floor. Each movement was methodical, practiced: stepping into his boxer-briefs, pulling up his trousers, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room. He fastened his belt with a definitive click. The entire process was one of reclamation, of re-armoring. He was becoming a stranger in this room again, while the woman on the bed remained the stark, naked evidence of the violation.
Rachel propped herself up on her elbows, watching him dress with a lazy, affectionate smile. She made no move to cover herself. Her nakedness was casual, unselfconscious, a state of being she now shared with him as effortlessly as a thought.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice husky. There was a pout in it, but it was theatrical. She already knew the plan. She was part of it.“Business before pleasure,” Silas said, his voice back to its normal, controlled timbre as he pulled his shirt on. “We have an appointment with a safe.”
“Right, right,” she sighed, stretching like a cat. She slid off the bed, her bare feet hitting the carpet without a sound. She stood before him, utterly exposed, and reached up to fix his collar, her touch proprietary. “The jewels. Can’t forget those.”
The incongruity was almost laughable. Here was a woman, naked and still glistening from being thoroughly fucked by an intruder, fussing over his shirt before leading him to rob her own home. She took his hand, her fingers lacing through his with a wifely familiarity that would have made the real Rachel vomit, and guided him out of the desecrated bedroom.
She walked ahead of him, down the stairs, her naked body a pale beacon in the dim hallway. She moved with total assurance, as if this were the most natural way to host a guest. In the study, she went directly to the large landscape painting—a tasteful watercolor of a lake at dusk—and swung it aside on its hinges as easily as if she were opening a cupboard. Behind it was a sleek, modern wall safe.
“0-4-1-2,” she recited, tapping the digital keypad. The light turned green with a soft beep. She pulled the heavy door open.
Inside, velvet trays glimmered under the recessed light. Diamond studs, a pearl necklace, an emerald-cut ruby pendant on a platinum chain, a man’s Rolex, stacks of bonds, and bundles of cash.
“Her favorite was the pearls,” she mused, picking up the strand and letting them cascade through her fingers. “A wedding gift from Mark’s mother. She always felt they were too old for her.” She dropped them carelessly into the leather duffel bag Silas had produced from his jacket. She followed them with the ruby, the watch, the cash. She worked with the efficiency of a seasoned thief, her nakedness making the act not sensual, but surreal—a brutal, obscene practicality.
When the safe was empty and the duffel bag full, she closed the safe door and swung the painting back into place, giving it a little pat. “There. All tidy.”
She turned to him, still gloriously, unabashedly nude in the middle of her burglarized study. She placed her hands on his chest, looking up at him with that adoring, complicit smile. “A productive visit.”
Silas leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. She melted into it, her arms sliding around his neck, her body pressing against the rough fabric of his clothes. It was the kiss of a lover seeing her partner off on a trip, full of promise and intimate knowledge.
He broke the kiss, his hand cupping her cheek for a moment. “Until next time,” he murmured, a lie that felt like truth in the charged air.
“I’ll be here,” she whispered back, her eyes shining with his own reflected cunning.
He shouldered the duffel bag, and let himself out the front door. She stood in the doorway, a nude silhouette against the warm light of the foyer, and waved, that seductive smile still playing on her lips until he disappeared into the darkness of the front walk.
Silas walked. The bag was heavy. He turned a corner, then another, putting blocks between himself and the cream-colored colonial. The night air was crisp, clearing the scent of her perfume and their sweat from his lungs.
He was three blocks away, under the stark glow of a streetlamp, when he felt it.
It was a sudden, silent snap, like the release of a tension he hadn't fully acknowledged. A chill, sharper than the night air, rushed up his spine and settled behind his eyes. It was the return—the fragment of his own consciousness, saturated with the sensory memory of soft skin and stolen pleasure and the thrilling, hollow ache of Rachel’s body, now flowing back into the well of his soul. A faint, ghostly echo of her final, contented sigh whispered in the back of his mind before fading into nothing.
He paused, absorbing the totality of himself once more. The partition was closed. The connection severed.
Back in the house, Rachel would be waking up on the floor of her house, naked, confused, with a dull ache between her legs and a terrifying, inexplicable gap in her memory. The safe would be empty. The taste of a stranger’s kiss on her lips, his cum leaking between her legs, and no understanding of how any of it had happened.
Silas adjusted the weight of the duffel bag and continued his walk, a quiet, profound satisfaction humming in his veins.
Silas possesses a metaphysical ability known as Soul Partitioning, allowing him to excise a fragment of his own consciousness and project it into a host's mind through direct ocular contact. This "hit" doesn't merely brainwash the victim; it effectively overwrites their core identity with his own, causing them to experience a total shift in self-perception where they believe they are Silas.
'Its cold! Come inside!' she said, her voice bright and welcoming. Rachel stepped aside to let Silas in.
Silas stood in the foyer, while Rachel closed the door with a click that sounded far too final.
"Make yourself at home," she said, her voice carrying a devilish smirk that twisted her features into something predatory and sharp. It was a look Rachel had never worn in her life.
She began to pace the hallway, but her gait was wrong. She moved with a heavy, masculine confidence, her hips swinging not out of grace, but as if she were testing the weight and balance of a new machine. As she spoke, her hands began to wander. She traced the curve of her own waist, her fingers digging into the soft flesh with an intense curiosity.
"It’s a nice place, isn't it?" she asked, though she wasn't looking at the decor. Her hand slid upward, her palm cupping her boobs through the thin fabric of her blouse. She squeezed, her eyes widening slightly as if the sensation were a foreign transmission. "Soft. I could get used to this."
She didn't wait for him to answer. She was already walking toward the sideboard in the dining room, pointing out a heavy silver tray.
"The silverware is genuine Georgian. Worth a fortune," she noted casually, her fingers now tracing the line of her collarbone. "The jewelry safe is behind the landscape painting in the study. Code is 0-4-1-2. My birthday. Or... her birthday, anyway."
The incongruity was sickening. To any passerby, she was a housewife giving a tour; to Silas, she was a victim meticulously betraying herself. She leaned against the wall, her legs crossing in a way that made her skirt hike up, and she stared at the skin of her thighs with the wonder of a child holding a new toy.
"Her husband, Mark, isn't here, obviously," she said, a bitter, Silas-like edge creeping into her tone. "He’s in Chicago. Business. Again. He’s always 'working,' always elsewhere." She let out a dry, jagged laugh, her hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling at her own hair to feel the tension on the scalp. "You want to know a secret, Silas? The last time we actually had sex was three months ago. Pathetic, right? I’m standing here in a body this... functional... and it’s just sitting here, gathering dust while he's at a Marriott in the Midwest."
She looked down at her hands, flexed them, and then looked back at him with a chilling intimacy. She was baring Rachel’s deepest, most private frustrations to a man she had met thirty seconds ago, yet she spoke with the total lack of shame one has when talking to oneself in a mirror.
"I feel so... empty," she whispered, her fingers grazing her lips. "But not anymore. Now that you're here, I finally feel like I’ve woken up."
*
A few moments ago...
The neighborhood was quiet—the kind of quiet that makes a lone footstep sound like a threat. Silas stopped in front of the cream-colored colonial, his shadow stretching long across the manicured lawn. He reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Inside, the muffled chime was followed by a heavy silence. Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of someone approaching.
The door didn't swing wide. It opened barely three inches, abruptly halted by the metallic snap of a security chain. Rachel peered through the gap, her face framed by the dark wood. Her posture was stiff, her hand visible on the edge of the door, knuckles white with tension. She was alone, and the sight of a strange man on her porch at this hour sent a visible ripple of unease through her.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice tight, barely a whisper. "Can I help you?"
Silas didn't answer immediately. He didn't need to. He stood perfectly still, letting his gaze lock onto hers through the narrow opening. He looked past the iris, past the pupil, searching for her very soul.
Then, it happened.
There was no sound, no flash of light. A fragment of his very essence, cold and sharp as a needle, surged forward. It didn't travel through the air like a physical object; it bypassed the space between them entirely. It left his eyes as a shimmering distortion, a microscopic ripple in reality that hit Rachel’s retinas with the force of a psychic collision.
Rachel didn't scream. She couldn't.
For a heartbeat, her world went gray. The "blur" hit her with a total desynchronization of her senses. Her brain tried to reject the intruder, but the fragment of Silas was already burrowing, weaving itself into her neural pathways, claiming her mind as its own. Rachel's eyes were momentarily blurred, just for a split second, as if her focus had snagged on something invisible. Then, they cleared, snapping back to a sharp, vivid clarity. A warm, unearned familiarity washed over her features.
Her grip on the door softened. The fear that had been radiating from her just a second ago didn't just vanish—it was rewritten into a soft and gracious smile. Slowly, her fingers moved to the chain. With a steady, rhythmic clink, she slid the bolt out of the track.
She opened the door wide, her expression shifting from a guarded mask to that unnatural, devilish smirk. She looked at him—man to man, soul to soul—even though she was trapped in the skin of a woman he had just broken.
*
Back to present...
I watched her—or rather, I watched myself—move through Rachel’s home with a thief’s appreciation and a conqueror’s pride. Her confession hung in the air between us, a raw, intimate truth that belonged to her, but was now mine to dissect.
“Gathering dust,” I echoed, my voice low. “A shame. Such a well-made machine should be running at full capacity.”
“Shouldn’t it?” she agreed, pushing herself off the wall. That predatory grin returned, but it was edged with something new—a hungry curiosity. “Come on. The tour isn’t finished. The best part’s upstairs.”
She led the way, her hand trailing up the polished banister. I followed, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. From behind, I could see the way her spine was held too straight, the set of her shoulders too broad for the delicate frame she inhabited. It was like watching a marionette controlled by a puppeteer who’d only read about human movement in a manual.
She paused at the top of the stairs, glancing back at me. “Her memories are… interesting. Like watching a very dull movie about someone else’s life. But the sensory data? The physical feedback? Oh, man... that’s the real prize.”
As she spoke, her hands came up to the buttons of her blouse. Without breaking eye contact, she began to undo them, one by one. The fabric parted, revealing a lace-edged bra and the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. “For example,” she said, her voice a clinical murmur. “The weight. We knew her breasts had weight, intellectually, just from looking. But feeling them pull, this constant, gentle anchor… it’s fascinating. And the sensitivity. Amazing.”
Her fingertips brushed over the lace covering her left nipple. A sharp, shuddering breath escaped her lips—Rachel’s lips. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second before snapping open, locked on mine. “See? A direct line. No filter. It’s all just… input.”
She turned and walked down the hallway, leaving her blouse hanging open. I followed her into the master bedroom. It was a spacious, airy room done in creams and soft blues. A large, neatly made bed dominated the space. A wedding photo in a silver frame sat on the nightstand—Rachel beaming, her husband Mark’s arm around her, both of them looking like a catalog for suburban bliss.
She went straight to it, picking up the frame. She studied the image with a tilted head, a faint frown on her face. “He looks earnest,” she said, her tone flat. “In her memories, he’s kind. Distant, but kind. She loved that. She mistook absence for stability. Too bad that she isn't here anymore. Hehe. ” She set the frame face down with a soft click. “Silly.”
Abandoning the blouse entirely, she let it slide off her shoulders to pool on the carpet. She stood there in her skirt and bra, her arms crossed over her chest, surveying the room as if it were a hotel suite. “This is where the neglect happened. Right here.” She walked to the bed and sat on the edge, bouncing slightly to test the mattress. “Firm. Good for his back, apparently. Not that it mattered.”
She lay back, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back off the comforter. The movement pushed her chest forward, and she let out a soft, experimental sigh. “She used to lie here,” she said, her voice drifting, almost dreamy as she tapped into Rachel’s stored experiences. “She’d stare at the ceiling and count the minutes until he’d come to bed. Sometimes he would, sometimes he wouldn’t. When he did, he’d just roll over and go to sleep. She’d listen to him breathe and feel this… hollowness. This ache. Aaaah” a moan escaped her lips.
One of her hands slid down from above her head, over the flat plane of her stomach, to the waistband of her skirt. Her fingers toyed with the zipper. “This body ached for him. For anyone. For something to fill that quiet.” She looked at me, her eyes dark and knowing. “But I’m not aching anymore. Now, I’m just… curious.”
She didn’t just open the zipper. She sat up slowly, sinuously, and turned to face me where I stood. Holding my gaze, she brought her other hand to the clasp at the side of her skirt. With a deliberate, tantalizing slowness, she undid it. The zipper gave way with a hushed, metallic whisper that seemed amplified in the quiet room. Then, still watching me, she wriggled her hips, pushing the skirt down over her thighs with a roll of her pelvis that was pure, calculated provocation. She kicked it away.
Now she knelt on the bed in just her bra and panties, her skin glowing. She wasn’t just lying back; she was presenting herself. “The curiosity is the best part,” she whispered, her hands sliding up her own thighs, past her hips, to cradle the curve of her waist. “It’s not her hunger. It’s mine. What does this body feel like when it’s touched? Not by a bored husband, but by an owner who’s truly interested in its functions?”
Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties. She peeled them down, an inch at a time, revealing the neat thatch of dark hair beneath. With a final, dismissive flick, the cotton joined the pile on the floor.
But she wasn’t done. The bra was next. She reached behind her back, her movements fluid, her eyes never leaving mine. She found the clasp, fumbled for a second with a show of mock-inexperience that was itself a lie—a seductress playing at innocence. The clasp released. She let the straps slide down her shoulders, but didn’t remove it yet. She cupped her breasts through the lace, lifting them, weighing them in her palms as if offering them to me.
“So sensitive,” she breathed, her thumbs brushing over her own nipples, which hardened instantly under the fabric. A soft gasp escaped her, but her smile was one of triumph. “Every nerve is a live wire. And they’re all mine to play with.”
Then, with a slow, theatrical shrug, she let the bra fall forward. It caught for a moment on the peaks of her breasts before she pulled it away entirely and let it drop. Now she was completely naked, kneeling before me like a offering and a conqueror both.
“Come here,” she commanded, but this time her voice was a low, smoky purr. It was my own voice, yes, but warped into something unbearably sensual. “Let’s see what this suite is capable of. Let’s test every single function.”
I approached the bed. She watched me, a panther assessing its prey. When I stood beside her, she didn’t reach for my hand. Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the fly of my trousers. I felt her breath, hot through the fabric. Her head tilted back, her eyes gleaming up at me. “The curiosity is… becoming a need,” she confessed, her voice thick.
Her hands came up, not to guide, but to claim. She unbuckled my belt with a sharp, practiced tug. The zipper came down with a rasp that echoed in the room. Her cool fingers wrapped around me, and she let out that low, appreciative hum—a sound that vibrated through her and into me. “A much better fit for this emptiness than his pathetic, distracted affection ever was.”
Then she moved, a fluid surge of power. Her hand shot to the back of my neck, and she pulled me down onto the bed with her. We landed in a heap, but she was already rolling, reversing our positions with a strength that was shocking. In an instant she was straddling my hips, her knees digging into the mattress, her naked body poised above mine. The wedding photo frame rattled violently on the nightstand.
She looked down at me, her hair a dark curtain around her face. That seductive, knowing smile was gone, replaced by something raw and ravenous. “She would never,” she growled, and the word was guttural, animal. She ground herself against me, the slick heat of her scorching even through my trousers. “She’d want the lights off. She’d be thinking about the goddamn dishwasher.” She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips a breath from mine. “But I want to see everything. I want to feel everything.”
With a brutal yank, she finished undressing me, pushing my trousers and boxers down my hips. Her cool hand wrapped around me again, stroking once, twice, a possessive claim. Then she positioned me at her entrance.
She didn’t sink down. She impaled herself.
In one fierce, relentless motion, she took me in to the hilt. Her head snapped back, and a raw, snarling cry was torn from her throat—a sound of violent victory. Her inner muscles clenched around me in a vicious, welcoming spasm.
“Oh, Gosh,” she groaned, but it was a snarl of conquest. She began to move, not with rhythm, but with a frantic, devouring hunger. Her hips pistoned, driving herself down onto me with a force that made the bedframe slam against the wall. Her hands braced on my chest, her nails digging in, drawing half-moons of sharp pleasure-pain.
“This!” she cried out, her voice breaking with each punishing thrust. “This is what it was for! Not for quiet! Not for waiting! For this!”
She was a frenzy above me, a storm of stolen sensation. Her back arched, her body a taut bowstring. She reached between her own legs, her fingers working her clit with a furious, desperate rhythm that matched the savage rocking of her hips. The sounds she made were not moans, but growls—primal, uninhibited, echoing in the violated bedroom.
“Look at me!” she demanded, her eyes wild, her face flushed with a depraved ecstasy. “Look at what you’re making me do! In her bed! On her sheets!”
She rode me with a brutality that was breathtaking. She leaned back, using her hands on my thighs for leverage, driving herself down again and again, taking everything. The headboard hammered the wall in a staccato drumbeat of their collision.
“She’d die of shame!” she panted, a wild, delirious laugh breaking through her gasps. “But I… I’ve never been more alive!”
Her movements lost all finesse, becoming a jagged, desperate chase for release. Her inner muscles fluttered and clenched in frantic, milking waves. Her breaths came in sharp, sobbing hitches.
“I’m… I’m gonna… now!” she screamed.
Her orgasm wasn’t a cresting wave; it was a detonation. It was a seismic event that racked her entire body. Her entire body seized, convulsing around me. She threw her head back and howled—a loud, uninhibited, house-shaking sound of pure, selfish triumph. Her hips jerked erratically as she ground herself against me, milking her own climax and mine with a greedy, relentless intensity.
As the last tremors shook her, she collapsed forward onto my chest, her sweat-slick body shuddering against mine, her breath hot and ragged in my ear. She nuzzled into my neck, her lips brushing my skin with deliberate, lingering kisses. After a moment, she lifted her head, a look of profound, conspiratorial satisfaction on her face—but now it was edged with a new, sly awareness.
She had filled the void not with gentle exploration, but with a raw, primal conquest that left the very air in the room crackling with spent energy. Yet, as the frenzy faded, a different electricity took its place: the cool, calculated current of a seductress surveying her domain.
She shifted, rolling off of me and onto her back, but she didn’t just stare at the ceiling. She stretched, a long, feline extension of her limbs that made her breasts rise and her stomach tauten, a living exhibit of her own stolen beauty. Her hand came up, trailing through the damp hair at her temple, and as it did, the overhead light caught the gold band on her finger.
She went very still, her eyes fixing on the wedding ring. A slow, deeply seductive smile spread across her lips—not just satisfied, but deliciously cruel.
“Oh, look,” she purred, her voice a throaty whisper. She raised her hand, turning it so the ring glinted. “Mark had to court me for weeks until I let him kiss me. Months until our first night.” She dropped her hand to my chest, her fingers splaying possessively over my heart. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto mine, gleaming with mischief. “And now you just came to the door… and came inside me, mister.” She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “That’s not fair to poor old Mark. Not fair at all.”
She traced a nail down the center of my chest. “He was always so… careful. So worried about doing things right.” Her voice dropped to a confidential murmur. “He’d ask if I was comfortable. If the pressure was okay. It was like making love to a user manual.” Her hand slid lower, over my stomach, her touch feather-light and incendiary. “But you… you didn’t ask. You just took. And you knew exactly how to make this body sing.”
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. The other hand continued its idle exploration of my arm, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle. “He thought patience was a virtue. All that waiting.” She smirked. “He never realized that what this vessel really needed wasn’t patience… it was someone with the confidence to just claim it.” Her eyes drifted to the overturned wedding photo. “His touches were like whispers. Yours?” She leaned close, her breath warm against my ear. “Yours are declarations. And my body… her body… understands the difference perfectly.”
She let out a contented, utterly wicked sigh and settled back against the rumpled sheets—sheets that now bore the indelible, intimate stain of her total betrayal, performed not just with a smile, but with a poet’s cruel flair for comparison.
“No hollowness now,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping over me with open ownership. “Just you. It feels… perfect.” She lifted her ring hand again, studying it as if it were a curious artifact. “I really should send him a thank you note. For being so… inadequate. He left everything so perfectly primed for a real man to finally use.”
*
Silas lay there for a few minutes more, listening to the ragged sound of her breathing slowly even out. The room smelled of sex and salt and a strange, metallic triumph. Finally, he shifted, disentangling himself from the damp sheets and her limp, sated limbs.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The air felt cool on his skin. Without a word, he began to gather his clothes from the floor. Each movement was methodical, practiced: stepping into his boxer-briefs, pulling up his trousers, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room. He fastened his belt with a definitive click. The entire process was one of reclamation, of re-armoring. He was becoming a stranger in this room again, while the woman on the bed remained the stark, naked evidence of the violation.
Rachel propped herself up on her elbows, watching him dress with a lazy, affectionate smile. She made no move to cover herself. Her nakedness was casual, unselfconscious, a state of being she now shared with him as effortlessly as a thought.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice husky. There was a pout in it, but it was theatrical. She already knew the plan. She was part of it.“Business before pleasure,” Silas said, his voice back to its normal, controlled timbre as he pulled his shirt on. “We have an appointment with a safe.”
“Right, right,” she sighed, stretching like a cat. She slid off the bed, her bare feet hitting the carpet without a sound. She stood before him, utterly exposed, and reached up to fix his collar, her touch proprietary. “The jewels. Can’t forget those.”
The incongruity was almost laughable. Here was a woman, naked and still glistening from being thoroughly fucked by an intruder, fussing over his shirt before leading him to rob her own home. She took his hand, her fingers lacing through his with a wifely familiarity that would have made the real Rachel vomit, and guided him out of the desecrated bedroom.
She walked ahead of him, down the stairs, her naked body a pale beacon in the dim hallway. She moved with total assurance, as if this were the most natural way to host a guest. In the study, she went directly to the large landscape painting—a tasteful watercolor of a lake at dusk—and swung it aside on its hinges as easily as if she were opening a cupboard. Behind it was a sleek, modern wall safe.
“0-4-1-2,” she recited, tapping the digital keypad. The light turned green with a soft beep. She pulled the heavy door open.
Inside, velvet trays glimmered under the recessed light. Diamond studs, a pearl necklace, an emerald-cut ruby pendant on a platinum chain, a man’s Rolex, stacks of bonds, and bundles of cash.
“Her favorite was the pearls,” she mused, picking up the strand and letting them cascade through her fingers. “A wedding gift from Mark’s mother. She always felt they were too old for her.” She dropped them carelessly into the leather duffel bag Silas had produced from his jacket. She followed them with the ruby, the watch, the cash. She worked with the efficiency of a seasoned thief, her nakedness making the act not sensual, but surreal—a brutal, obscene practicality.
When the safe was empty and the duffel bag full, she closed the safe door and swung the painting back into place, giving it a little pat. “There. All tidy.”
She turned to him, still gloriously, unabashedly nude in the middle of her burglarized study. She placed her hands on his chest, looking up at him with that adoring, complicit smile. “A productive visit.”
Silas leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. She melted into it, her arms sliding around his neck, her body pressing against the rough fabric of his clothes. It was the kiss of a lover seeing her partner off on a trip, full of promise and intimate knowledge.
He broke the kiss, his hand cupping her cheek for a moment. “Until next time,” he murmured, a lie that felt like truth in the charged air.
“I’ll be here,” she whispered back, her eyes shining with his own reflected cunning.
He shouldered the duffel bag, and let himself out the front door. She stood in the doorway, a nude silhouette against the warm light of the foyer, and waved, that seductive smile still playing on her lips until he disappeared into the darkness of the front walk.
Silas walked. The bag was heavy. He turned a corner, then another, putting blocks between himself and the cream-colored colonial. The night air was crisp, clearing the scent of her perfume and their sweat from his lungs.
He was three blocks away, under the stark glow of a streetlamp, when he felt it.
It was a sudden, silent snap, like the release of a tension he hadn't fully acknowledged. A chill, sharper than the night air, rushed up his spine and settled behind his eyes. It was the return—the fragment of his own consciousness, saturated with the sensory memory of soft skin and stolen pleasure and the thrilling, hollow ache of Rachel’s body, now flowing back into the well of his soul. A faint, ghostly echo of her final, contented sigh whispered in the back of his mind before fading into nothing.
He paused, absorbing the totality of himself once more. The partition was closed. The connection severed.
Back in the house, Rachel would be waking up on the floor of her house, naked, confused, with a dull ache between her legs and a terrifying, inexplicable gap in her memory. The safe would be empty. The taste of a stranger’s kiss on her lips, his cum leaking between her legs, and no understanding of how any of it had happened.
Silas adjusted the weight of the duffel bag and continued his walk, a quiet, profound satisfaction humming in his veins.
mind control
+3 more
2
8.7K
935
3
0
Hasti isn't from Nashville, so she's been running into issues finding men that like anything other than blue eyes and blonde hair. As a beautiful Indian girl that grew up in Chicago, she never had issues finding men that were into her, however she's dealing with a bit of an identity crisis. She recently discovered the ability to leave her body and pull other's soul's out of theirs so she can become anyone...including the perfect woman for the city of Nashville.
Hasti adjusted the rearview mirror of her parked car, glancing at her reflection. Dark waves framed her face, her lips glossed and eyes lined with kohl—effortless, striking. But she wasn’t admiring herself tonight; she was strategizing. The glowing neon sign of The Blue Note Lounge flickered across the street, pulsing with the bass of loud music and laughter. Inside, the kind of girls who never got overlooked were already laughing too loudly at boys who wouldn’t give Hasti a second look if she walked in as herself.
But she wasn’t planning to walk in as herself.
She exhaled, squared her shoulders, and closed her eyes. A tingling sensation rippled down her spine, the familiar pull of separation as her spirit lifted free from her body. She glanced back—her physical form slumped slightly against the seat, limp as a doll. Vulnerable. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Hasti’s spirit drifted through the car door and across the street, passing effortlessly through the crowded bar. Bodies pulsed to the rhythm of the music, conversations blurring into white noise. Then she spotted her target: a tall blonde with sharp cheekbones and legs that seemed to stretch for miles. She was leaning against the bar, tossing her hair over her shoulder while some frat-boy type grinned at her like she’d hung the moon. Perfect.
Hasti floated closer. The girl—Alyssa, according to the bartender’s greeting—was sipping a cocktail, oblivious to the spirit hovering inches from her. With a deep breath (or the ghost of one), Hasti reached out, pressing ethereal fingers to Alyssa’s forehead. A sharp tug, and—
The blonde’s body stiffened for a second before slumping forward, her spirit peeling free like mist from water. Hasti guided the empty shell of Alyssa’s consciousness to hover near the ceiling, where it drifted lazily in dreamless suspension. Then, without hesitation, she stepped into the body.
Warmth. Weight. The sudden rush of sensation—tight fabric hugging curves, the chill of air conditioning on bare arms, the thrum of bass vibrating through high heels. Hasti flexed Alyssa’s fingers, rolled the unfamiliar shoulders, and grinned.
The frat boy blinked. “You good?”
Hasti tossed Alyssa’s hair—her hair now—and smirked. “Better than good.”
His smile widened. Finally, someone who looked at her like that.
All part of the plan.
Hasti—now in Alyssa’s tall, blonde, effortlessly desired body—flashed another dazzling smile at the guy in front of her. God, this is easy.
"Another drink?" he asked, already flagging down the bartender. His name was Jake, according to the stupidly expensive watch on his wrist and the way he kept mentioning his dad’s law firm.
She let out a practiced laugh, leaning in just enough to let him catch a whiff of Alyssa’s vanilla perfume. "Only if you’re having one with me."
Jake beamed, like she’d just handed him the keys to the city. "Hell yeah."
As they clinked glasses, Hasti couldn’t help but marvel at how different this was from her usual nights out. Back in Chicago, she’d been the queen of the scene—hips swaying, eyes locking, men tripping over themselves to get her attention. But here in Nashville? In her body? She might as well have been invisible. Their loss, she thought, taking a sip of the too-sweet cocktail.
The rest of the night played out like something out of a movie—Jake’s hands occasionally grazing her waist, his friends hyping him up like he’d just won the lottery, the bartender sliding them free shots when the crowd got rowdy. Hasti let herself enjoy it all—the way heads turned when she walked by, the way Jake’s voice got lower and slower the more he drank, the warmth of being wanted without having to try so damn hard.
By closing time, Jake was whispering against her ear, lips brushing her neck as he murmured, "You should come back to my place."
Hasti grinned. Oh, I could. She could take Alyssa’s body back to his apartment, let him peel that tight dress off her, do all the things she knew he’d never consider doing with her real self.
But then she glanced at the clock above the bar. Two hours—her limit before Alyssa’s drifting spirit might start getting restless. And as much as she loved the game, she wasn’t reckless enough to test her own limits.
She feigned disappointment, running freshly French-tipped nails along his bicep. "Rain check, Jake. Early morning."
He pouted, but she kissed his cheek before he could protest—lingering just enough to leave him wanting more—and sauntered toward the ladies' room. Locked in a stall, she closed Alyssa’s eyes, exhaled, and—
Pop. as she left Alyssa's body and saw her body slump over. She floated back to the middle of the bar and grabbed Alyssa's spirit from the ceiling, dragging it back to the bathroom and gently guiding her spirit back into it's body. Then she flew back to her car.
Back in her own body, still tucked safely in her car. She stretched, shaking off the lingering thrill, and glanced in the mirror. Dark eyes stared back at her, familiar and fierce.
Damn, that was fun.
Hasti checked her phone—no missed calls, no emergencies. Nobody had even noticed her empty shell just sitting there. A perfect night, no complications.
As she started the engine, she smirked. "Same time next week?" she said to herself as she went home to get sleep and prepare for the work day ahead.
-
The next morning, Hasti leaned back in her office chair, twirling a pen between her fingers as she stared at her computer screen. The glow of spreadsheets and project deadlines made her eyes ache, but at least her cubicle in the marketing department gave her some privacy. Corporate life. She sighed. If her coworkers knew half the things she did on weekends, they’d probably faint.
A knock on the cubicle wall made her jump.
"You zoning out again?"
Maggie, her work bestie—curly red hair, freckles, and a perpetual coffee cup in hand—peeked in with a smirk. "I’ve been calling your name for, like, a full minute."
Hasti blinked, then laughed. "Sorry, just strategizing."
"Oh, for work?" Maggie wiggled her eyebrows. "Or for your mysterious Friday night plans?"
Maggie was the only one at the office who knew Hasti had something wild going on—just not the specifics. She thought it was secret Tinder dates.
Hasti smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Maggie groaned. "Ugh, you’re the worst." She plopped down in the spare chair, kicking her feet up. "Fine, keep your secrets. But you are coming to drinks with me and Layla tonight, right? No ‘emergencies,’ no disappearing acts?"
Hasti hesitated. "Depends. Where are we going?"
"The Foxglove—that new rooftop bar downtown. Super bougie."
Her pulse quickened. Bars meant potential new "hosts" for her little astral vacations. But she promised herself that she would only project once or twice a week, and only if it was a Friday or Saturday night. She still needed to spend time with her friends however, or they'd start thinking she didn't like them. After considerate, she relented. "Yeah, I’m in."
Maggie squealed. "Finally! Maybe you'll actually stay for once."
-
The Foxglove was everything Maggie had promised—glamorous, crowded, and pulsing with energy. Twinkling lights strung across the rooftop terrace cast a golden glow over the sleek marble bar, while the Nashville skyline glittered beyond the glass railing. The air smelled like expensive perfume and citrus-infused cocktails.
Hasti adjusted the strap of her little black dress as she followed Maggie and Layla to a high-top table near the edge. Layla—Maggie’s bubbly roommate—immediately flagged down a server and ordered a round of martinis without even glancing at the menu.
"So, how’s life in the marketing trenches?" Layla asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Anyone’s soul crushed yet this week?"
Maggie groaned. "Don’t even get me started. Johnson emailed me again about the ‘brand synergy’ report like it’s not literally the most meaningless document in existence."
Hasti laughed, letting the familiar rhythm of their banter wash over her. For once, she wasn’t scanning the room for potential hosts, wasn’t plotting where she’d stash her body while her spirit slipped free. Tonight was just drinks. Just friends.
"And you," Layla pointed at Hasti, a playful accusation in her eyes. "Spill. Why do we never see you anymore? Are you secretly married? In witness protection?"
Hasti rolled her eyes, swirling her martini. "Please. Like I could keep a husband quiet."
Maggie snorted into her drink. "True. You’d be texting us every five minutes complaining about his socks on the floor."
The conversation flowed, effortlessly pulling Hasti in. They gossiped about coworkers, debated which downtown restaurant had the best tacos (Layla insisted it was the food truck by the park; Maggie swore by the overpriced fusion place), and laughed until Hasti’s cheeks hurt. For a dizzying hour, she almost forgot about astral projection altogether.
Until she saw her.
Across the rooftop, perched on a velvet lounge chair like she owned the place, was a girl with porcelain skin, cascading honey-blonde waves, and a laugh that carried like wind chimes. The kind of girl who made heads turn without trying—exactly the sort Hasti would have loved to borrow for an evening.
A familiar itch prickled under her skin.
No. Not tonight.
She forced her gaze back to Maggie, who was mid-story about her disastrous attempt at online dating. "—and then he actually said, ‘I don’t usually go for redheads, but—’"
"Ugh, men," Layla groaned, throwing a napkin at her. "Why are they like this?"
Hasti half-listened, her fingers tapping restlessly against her glass. The blonde girl was sipping champagne now, surrounded by a group of adoring guys hanging onto her every word. One of them leaned in, whispering something that made her giggle, and Hasti could practically feel the effortless power she carried.
It would be so easy. Just a quick trip to the bathroom, a momentary disconnect, and—
"Earth to Hasti." Maggie snapped her fingers. "You okay?"
Hasti blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, totally." She plastered on a smile. "Just got distracted by… the view."
Layla followed her gaze to the blonde and smirked. "Ohhh, I see. Someone’s got a girl crush."
Hasti laughed, forcing herself to relax into her seat. "Hardly. Just appreciating aesthetics."
But the temptation hummed in the back of her mind like a song stuck on repeat.
Not tonight, she reminded herself firmly. Tonight is for real life.
She picked up her drink and clinked it against Maggie’s. "To not letting Johnson ruin our will to live."
Maggie grinned. "Amen to that."
Hasti exhaled, pushing aside the lingering urge. Tonight, she’d stay present. At least that's what she told herself for about 2 minutes.
Hasti's gaze drifted past the rooftop lights, landing on him. Tall, tousled dark hair, a crooked smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he joked with his friends. He had the kind of confidence that wasn't loud—just effortless, like he didn't need to prove a damn thing. And the way his dress shirt clung to his shoulders? Damn.
"Oh. Ohhh no," Maggie drawled, snapping her fingers in front of Hasti’s face. "I know that look. You’re into him."
Layla twisted in her seat, scanning the crowd. "Which one? Wait—black shirt, stupidly good jawline?”
Hasti groaned into her drink. “It doesn’t matter. Guys like that don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Maggie challenged. “Don’t date gorgeous, hilarious women with the most iconic cheekbones in Nashville?”
Hasti swirled her martini, her voice lowering. “Don’t date brown girls. Not here.” The words tasted bitter, but it was the truth. She’d seen it a hundred times—guys like him lighting up for blondes, for petite girls with freckles and doe eyes, while she faded into the background no matter how tight her dress was.
Layla slammed her glass down. “Bullshit. Go talk to him.”
“What’s the point?”
“The point,” Maggie said, leaning in, “is that you never let them win. Walk over there like you own the air he’s breathing. And if he’s stupid enough to not see it? His loss.”
Hasti chewed her lip. The temptation to slip into someone else’s body—someone palatable to guys like him—flared again. But tonight wasn’t about shortcuts.
“Fine,” she muttered, tossing back the rest of her drink for courage. “But if this goes south, I’m blaming you for peer pressure.”
Layla grinned. “Deal.”
Hasti willed her pulse to settle as she approached his table. “Hey,” she said, aiming for casual but landing somewhere between confident and please-don’t-make-this-awkward. “I’m Hasti.”
The guy—Ethan, his friend supplied—turned, his smile polite but distracted. “Hey.”
She kept her chin up, her body language loose like this didn’t matter. “You in town for work, or…?”
“Yeah, finance,” he said, glancing past her toward the bar. Then, after a beat, he added, “Look, you seem cool, but—”
She already knew.
“But I’m not your type,” she finished, her voice steady.
His cheeks flushed. “It’s not—I mean, you’re gorgeous, just not—”
“Yeah. Got it.” She forced a smile. “Thanks for being honest.”
She walked away before he could stammer out another empty compliment.
“Asshole,” Layla declared the second Hasti slumped back into her seat.
Hasti shrugged, reaching for Maggie’s untouched shot of tequila. “At least he didn’t lead me on.”
Maggie snatched the shot back, sliding a fresh one toward her instead. “His loss. And now?” She pushed the salt and lime toward Hasti. “We drink to trash men and better prospects.”
“To better prospects,” Layla echoed, clinking her glass to Hasti’s.
The tequila burned, but the warmth in her chest wasn’t just from the alcohol. It was from Maggie’s arm slung around her shoulders, from Layla’s dramatic retelling of her worst rejection (“He said I looked ‘too exotic’—what does that even mean?!”), from the certainty that tonight, at least, she wasn’t alone.
Hasti licked the salt from her lips, grinning. “Next round’s on me. And if Ethan over there looks this way?”
“He’ll wish he was your type,” Maggie finished.
Hasti laughed, tossing her hair. Damn right.
The night blurred into laughter and too many tequila shots, the sting of rejection dulled by the warmth of good liquor and even better friends. Hasti leaned against the rooftop railing, the neon glow of downtown smudging in her vision. Maggie was mid-sentence—something scandalous about her boss’s secret affair—when Hasti’s gaze snagged on the exit across the terrace.
There they were.
Ethan—Mr. Not My Type—was slipping his arm around that honey-blonde girl’s waist, whispering something in her ear that made her toss her hair and giggle. The girl pressed into him like she’d known him for years instead of hours, her manicured fingers curling possessively around his bicep.
Hasti’s grip tightened around her empty glass.
"Ohhh no," Layla murmured, following her stare. "Don’t even look at them."
Hasti didn’t reply. The tequila was a hot, liquid defiance in her veins, and suddenly, she was done. "I’m tired of this," she muttered.
"Tired of what?" Maggie hooked an arm through hers, trying to steer her away.
"This!" Hasti gestured wildly toward the happy couple disappearing into the elevator. "I could’ve been fun. I could’ve been amazing. But he didn’t even try to see it—none of them ever do!"
Layla squeezed her shoulder. "Then he’s an idiot."
Hasti scoffed. "No, he’s typical." The words spilled out, sharp with liquor and frustration. "And I’m sick of pretending it’s fine. Sick of being overlooked. Sick of watching guys like him fall all over girls like that when I’m right here."
Her friends exchanged a glance. "Okay," Maggie said carefully, "let’s get you home before you incinerate someone with your eyes."
Hasti let them tug her toward the exit, but her mind was already racing. Ethan and Blondie were probably headed to some bougie afterparty, some dim-lit bedroom where he’d worship her in ways Hasti wouldn’t even get the chance to experience.
Not in her own skin, anyway.
The thought hit like lightning.
"Bathroom," Hasti announced abruptly, pulling free. "One sec."
She didn’t wait for their protests. The second she was locked in a stall, she braced her hands on the sink, staring at her reflection—flushed cheeks, smudged eyeliner, the fire in her own dark eyes.
She could go home. She could let this night be another anecdote for Maggie and Layla to laugh about later.
Or.
A slow, wicked smile tugged at her lips.
She closed her eyes.
And let her spirit slip free.....
The hallway outside the bathroom was empty. Hasti’s spectral form darted past oblivious bartenders and stumbling drunk girls until she found them—Ethan and Blondie, waiting for the elevator, his hands already under her jacket.
Hasti hovered behind them, revenge sweet on her tongue.
With a deep breath, she reached out. Her fingers—ghostly, but firm—gripped the blonde’s shoulder.
A sharp tug.
The girl slumped forward, her consciousness lifting away like smoke. Ethan frowned, steadying her limp body. "Babe? You okay?"
Hasti didn’t hesitate. She stepped in.
Blonde hair. Pink lips. Long legs. Skin that Nashville adored without question.
When she opened her eyes, Ethan’s face melted into relief. "There you are."
Hasti—no, Aubrey, according to the ID in her clutch—smiled. "Here I am."
And when his lips met hers, she kissed him back, savoring the irony.
Ethan’s mouth was warm, insistent—the kind of kiss that probably made most girls melt. But Hasti (currently piloting Aubrey’s stolen body) felt nothing but burning satisfaction.
Here he is, so eager for a girl who’s basically a mannequin right now.
She let the kiss deepen for exactly three seconds—long enough to really sell it—then abruptly pulled back.
“Wait, what—” Ethan started, eyes dazed.
Hasti smirked. “Oops. Forgot something.”
And then she kneed him square in the crotch.
Ethan doubled over with a strangled “Guh—!”, his face turning a spectacular shade of purple as he crumpled against the elevator doors.
“Asshole,” Hasti hissed in Aubrey’s voice, smoothing down the girl’s short skirt. “Hope that stings all night.”
She left him wheezing on the floor and marched straight to the ladies’ room. Behind the locked stall door, she exhaled and let Aubrey’s consciousness slip back into place, guiding it gently like tucking a sleeping child into bed.
The blonde girl blinked, swaying slightly as she glanced around the bathroom, confused but unharmed. “What the… did I black out?” she muttered, touching her lips like she’d missed something.
Hasti’s spirit zipped back to her own body—still slumped in the bathroom stall—and gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her reflection stared back at her, grinning like a cat who got the cream. The tequila haze hit her full-force, but the giddy thrill of payback was stronger. She checked her reflection, wiped the smudged eyeliner, and strutted out to meet her friends.
"Oh my God, Hasti!" Maggie practically tackled her the second she stepped out of the bathroom. "You missed the best part!"
Layla was wheezing, clutching her stomach. "That blonde girl—the one you were just talking about? She knee’d that guy in the dick."
Maggie mimed an explosion with her hands. "Like, full-on ends of the earth devastation. He looked like he was gonna puke."
Hasti pressed a hand to her chest, feigning shock. "Really? But they seemed so perfect for each other."
Layla dabbed at her smudged eyeliner, still laughing. "Turns out Aubrey"—she said the name like it was a punchline—has standards. King Dickhead got exactly what he deserved."**
Hasti looped her arms through theirs as they stumbled toward the exit, the night air cool on her flushed skin. "Karma’s a beautiful thing," she sighed, grinning.
"Preach," Maggie said, raising an imaginary toast.
And as they spilled onto the sidewalk, laughing under the city lights, Hasti decided something: maybe she didn’t need to borrow anyone’s body to feel powerful.
But damn, it sure was fun.
And as they piled into an Uber, giddy and triumphant, she didn’t even glance back at the club—or the blonde girl now glaring at a still-wincing Ethan.
Some victories were sweeter in silence.
Hasti adjusted the rearview mirror of her parked car, glancing at her reflection. Dark waves framed her face, her lips glossed and eyes lined with kohl—effortless, striking. But she wasn’t admiring herself tonight; she was strategizing. The glowing neon sign of The Blue Note Lounge flickered across the street, pulsing with the bass of loud music and laughter. Inside, the kind of girls who never got overlooked were already laughing too loudly at boys who wouldn’t give Hasti a second look if she walked in as herself.
But she wasn’t planning to walk in as herself.
She exhaled, squared her shoulders, and closed her eyes. A tingling sensation rippled down her spine, the familiar pull of separation as her spirit lifted free from her body. She glanced back—her physical form slumped slightly against the seat, limp as a doll. Vulnerable. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Hasti’s spirit drifted through the car door and across the street, passing effortlessly through the crowded bar. Bodies pulsed to the rhythm of the music, conversations blurring into white noise. Then she spotted her target: a tall blonde with sharp cheekbones and legs that seemed to stretch for miles. She was leaning against the bar, tossing her hair over her shoulder while some frat-boy type grinned at her like she’d hung the moon. Perfect.
Hasti floated closer. The girl—Alyssa, according to the bartender’s greeting—was sipping a cocktail, oblivious to the spirit hovering inches from her. With a deep breath (or the ghost of one), Hasti reached out, pressing ethereal fingers to Alyssa’s forehead. A sharp tug, and—
The blonde’s body stiffened for a second before slumping forward, her spirit peeling free like mist from water. Hasti guided the empty shell of Alyssa’s consciousness to hover near the ceiling, where it drifted lazily in dreamless suspension. Then, without hesitation, she stepped into the body.
Warmth. Weight. The sudden rush of sensation—tight fabric hugging curves, the chill of air conditioning on bare arms, the thrum of bass vibrating through high heels. Hasti flexed Alyssa’s fingers, rolled the unfamiliar shoulders, and grinned.
The frat boy blinked. “You good?”
Hasti tossed Alyssa’s hair—her hair now—and smirked. “Better than good.”
His smile widened. Finally, someone who looked at her like that.
All part of the plan.
Hasti—now in Alyssa’s tall, blonde, effortlessly desired body—flashed another dazzling smile at the guy in front of her. God, this is easy.
"Another drink?" he asked, already flagging down the bartender. His name was Jake, according to the stupidly expensive watch on his wrist and the way he kept mentioning his dad’s law firm.
She let out a practiced laugh, leaning in just enough to let him catch a whiff of Alyssa’s vanilla perfume. "Only if you’re having one with me."
Jake beamed, like she’d just handed him the keys to the city. "Hell yeah."
As they clinked glasses, Hasti couldn’t help but marvel at how different this was from her usual nights out. Back in Chicago, she’d been the queen of the scene—hips swaying, eyes locking, men tripping over themselves to get her attention. But here in Nashville? In her body? She might as well have been invisible. Their loss, she thought, taking a sip of the too-sweet cocktail.
The rest of the night played out like something out of a movie—Jake’s hands occasionally grazing her waist, his friends hyping him up like he’d just won the lottery, the bartender sliding them free shots when the crowd got rowdy. Hasti let herself enjoy it all—the way heads turned when she walked by, the way Jake’s voice got lower and slower the more he drank, the warmth of being wanted without having to try so damn hard.
By closing time, Jake was whispering against her ear, lips brushing her neck as he murmured, "You should come back to my place."
Hasti grinned. Oh, I could. She could take Alyssa’s body back to his apartment, let him peel that tight dress off her, do all the things she knew he’d never consider doing with her real self.
But then she glanced at the clock above the bar. Two hours—her limit before Alyssa’s drifting spirit might start getting restless. And as much as she loved the game, she wasn’t reckless enough to test her own limits.
She feigned disappointment, running freshly French-tipped nails along his bicep. "Rain check, Jake. Early morning."
He pouted, but she kissed his cheek before he could protest—lingering just enough to leave him wanting more—and sauntered toward the ladies' room. Locked in a stall, she closed Alyssa’s eyes, exhaled, and—
Pop. as she left Alyssa's body and saw her body slump over. She floated back to the middle of the bar and grabbed Alyssa's spirit from the ceiling, dragging it back to the bathroom and gently guiding her spirit back into it's body. Then she flew back to her car.
Back in her own body, still tucked safely in her car. She stretched, shaking off the lingering thrill, and glanced in the mirror. Dark eyes stared back at her, familiar and fierce.
Damn, that was fun.
Hasti checked her phone—no missed calls, no emergencies. Nobody had even noticed her empty shell just sitting there. A perfect night, no complications.
As she started the engine, she smirked. "Same time next week?" she said to herself as she went home to get sleep and prepare for the work day ahead.
-
The next morning, Hasti leaned back in her office chair, twirling a pen between her fingers as she stared at her computer screen. The glow of spreadsheets and project deadlines made her eyes ache, but at least her cubicle in the marketing department gave her some privacy. Corporate life. She sighed. If her coworkers knew half the things she did on weekends, they’d probably faint.
A knock on the cubicle wall made her jump.
"You zoning out again?"
Maggie, her work bestie—curly red hair, freckles, and a perpetual coffee cup in hand—peeked in with a smirk. "I’ve been calling your name for, like, a full minute."
Hasti blinked, then laughed. "Sorry, just strategizing."
"Oh, for work?" Maggie wiggled her eyebrows. "Or for your mysterious Friday night plans?"
Maggie was the only one at the office who knew Hasti had something wild going on—just not the specifics. She thought it was secret Tinder dates.
Hasti smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Maggie groaned. "Ugh, you’re the worst." She plopped down in the spare chair, kicking her feet up. "Fine, keep your secrets. But you are coming to drinks with me and Layla tonight, right? No ‘emergencies,’ no disappearing acts?"
Hasti hesitated. "Depends. Where are we going?"
"The Foxglove—that new rooftop bar downtown. Super bougie."
Her pulse quickened. Bars meant potential new "hosts" for her little astral vacations. But she promised herself that she would only project once or twice a week, and only if it was a Friday or Saturday night. She still needed to spend time with her friends however, or they'd start thinking she didn't like them. After considerate, she relented. "Yeah, I’m in."
Maggie squealed. "Finally! Maybe you'll actually stay for once."
-
The Foxglove was everything Maggie had promised—glamorous, crowded, and pulsing with energy. Twinkling lights strung across the rooftop terrace cast a golden glow over the sleek marble bar, while the Nashville skyline glittered beyond the glass railing. The air smelled like expensive perfume and citrus-infused cocktails.
Hasti adjusted the strap of her little black dress as she followed Maggie and Layla to a high-top table near the edge. Layla—Maggie’s bubbly roommate—immediately flagged down a server and ordered a round of martinis without even glancing at the menu.
"So, how’s life in the marketing trenches?" Layla asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Anyone’s soul crushed yet this week?"
Maggie groaned. "Don’t even get me started. Johnson emailed me again about the ‘brand synergy’ report like it’s not literally the most meaningless document in existence."
Hasti laughed, letting the familiar rhythm of their banter wash over her. For once, she wasn’t scanning the room for potential hosts, wasn’t plotting where she’d stash her body while her spirit slipped free. Tonight was just drinks. Just friends.
"And you," Layla pointed at Hasti, a playful accusation in her eyes. "Spill. Why do we never see you anymore? Are you secretly married? In witness protection?"
Hasti rolled her eyes, swirling her martini. "Please. Like I could keep a husband quiet."
Maggie snorted into her drink. "True. You’d be texting us every five minutes complaining about his socks on the floor."
The conversation flowed, effortlessly pulling Hasti in. They gossiped about coworkers, debated which downtown restaurant had the best tacos (Layla insisted it was the food truck by the park; Maggie swore by the overpriced fusion place), and laughed until Hasti’s cheeks hurt. For a dizzying hour, she almost forgot about astral projection altogether.
Until she saw her.
Across the rooftop, perched on a velvet lounge chair like she owned the place, was a girl with porcelain skin, cascading honey-blonde waves, and a laugh that carried like wind chimes. The kind of girl who made heads turn without trying—exactly the sort Hasti would have loved to borrow for an evening.
A familiar itch prickled under her skin.
No. Not tonight.
She forced her gaze back to Maggie, who was mid-story about her disastrous attempt at online dating. "—and then he actually said, ‘I don’t usually go for redheads, but—’"
"Ugh, men," Layla groaned, throwing a napkin at her. "Why are they like this?"
Hasti half-listened, her fingers tapping restlessly against her glass. The blonde girl was sipping champagne now, surrounded by a group of adoring guys hanging onto her every word. One of them leaned in, whispering something that made her giggle, and Hasti could practically feel the effortless power she carried.
It would be so easy. Just a quick trip to the bathroom, a momentary disconnect, and—
"Earth to Hasti." Maggie snapped her fingers. "You okay?"
Hasti blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, totally." She plastered on a smile. "Just got distracted by… the view."
Layla followed her gaze to the blonde and smirked. "Ohhh, I see. Someone’s got a girl crush."
Hasti laughed, forcing herself to relax into her seat. "Hardly. Just appreciating aesthetics."
But the temptation hummed in the back of her mind like a song stuck on repeat.
Not tonight, she reminded herself firmly. Tonight is for real life.
She picked up her drink and clinked it against Maggie’s. "To not letting Johnson ruin our will to live."
Maggie grinned. "Amen to that."
Hasti exhaled, pushing aside the lingering urge. Tonight, she’d stay present. At least that's what she told herself for about 2 minutes.
Hasti's gaze drifted past the rooftop lights, landing on him. Tall, tousled dark hair, a crooked smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he joked with his friends. He had the kind of confidence that wasn't loud—just effortless, like he didn't need to prove a damn thing. And the way his dress shirt clung to his shoulders? Damn.
"Oh. Ohhh no," Maggie drawled, snapping her fingers in front of Hasti’s face. "I know that look. You’re into him."
Layla twisted in her seat, scanning the crowd. "Which one? Wait—black shirt, stupidly good jawline?”
Hasti groaned into her drink. “It doesn’t matter. Guys like that don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Maggie challenged. “Don’t date gorgeous, hilarious women with the most iconic cheekbones in Nashville?”
Hasti swirled her martini, her voice lowering. “Don’t date brown girls. Not here.” The words tasted bitter, but it was the truth. She’d seen it a hundred times—guys like him lighting up for blondes, for petite girls with freckles and doe eyes, while she faded into the background no matter how tight her dress was.
Layla slammed her glass down. “Bullshit. Go talk to him.”
“What’s the point?”
“The point,” Maggie said, leaning in, “is that you never let them win. Walk over there like you own the air he’s breathing. And if he’s stupid enough to not see it? His loss.”
Hasti chewed her lip. The temptation to slip into someone else’s body—someone palatable to guys like him—flared again. But tonight wasn’t about shortcuts.
“Fine,” she muttered, tossing back the rest of her drink for courage. “But if this goes south, I’m blaming you for peer pressure.”
Layla grinned. “Deal.”
Hasti willed her pulse to settle as she approached his table. “Hey,” she said, aiming for casual but landing somewhere between confident and please-don’t-make-this-awkward. “I’m Hasti.”
The guy—Ethan, his friend supplied—turned, his smile polite but distracted. “Hey.”
She kept her chin up, her body language loose like this didn’t matter. “You in town for work, or…?”
“Yeah, finance,” he said, glancing past her toward the bar. Then, after a beat, he added, “Look, you seem cool, but—”
She already knew.
“But I’m not your type,” she finished, her voice steady.
His cheeks flushed. “It’s not—I mean, you’re gorgeous, just not—”
“Yeah. Got it.” She forced a smile. “Thanks for being honest.”
She walked away before he could stammer out another empty compliment.
“Asshole,” Layla declared the second Hasti slumped back into her seat.
Hasti shrugged, reaching for Maggie’s untouched shot of tequila. “At least he didn’t lead me on.”
Maggie snatched the shot back, sliding a fresh one toward her instead. “His loss. And now?” She pushed the salt and lime toward Hasti. “We drink to trash men and better prospects.”
“To better prospects,” Layla echoed, clinking her glass to Hasti’s.
The tequila burned, but the warmth in her chest wasn’t just from the alcohol. It was from Maggie’s arm slung around her shoulders, from Layla’s dramatic retelling of her worst rejection (“He said I looked ‘too exotic’—what does that even mean?!”), from the certainty that tonight, at least, she wasn’t alone.
Hasti licked the salt from her lips, grinning. “Next round’s on me. And if Ethan over there looks this way?”
“He’ll wish he was your type,” Maggie finished.
Hasti laughed, tossing her hair. Damn right.
The night blurred into laughter and too many tequila shots, the sting of rejection dulled by the warmth of good liquor and even better friends. Hasti leaned against the rooftop railing, the neon glow of downtown smudging in her vision. Maggie was mid-sentence—something scandalous about her boss’s secret affair—when Hasti’s gaze snagged on the exit across the terrace.
There they were.
Ethan—Mr. Not My Type—was slipping his arm around that honey-blonde girl’s waist, whispering something in her ear that made her toss her hair and giggle. The girl pressed into him like she’d known him for years instead of hours, her manicured fingers curling possessively around his bicep.
Hasti’s grip tightened around her empty glass.
"Ohhh no," Layla murmured, following her stare. "Don’t even look at them."
Hasti didn’t reply. The tequila was a hot, liquid defiance in her veins, and suddenly, she was done. "I’m tired of this," she muttered.
"Tired of what?" Maggie hooked an arm through hers, trying to steer her away.
"This!" Hasti gestured wildly toward the happy couple disappearing into the elevator. "I could’ve been fun. I could’ve been amazing. But he didn’t even try to see it—none of them ever do!"
Layla squeezed her shoulder. "Then he’s an idiot."
Hasti scoffed. "No, he’s typical." The words spilled out, sharp with liquor and frustration. "And I’m sick of pretending it’s fine. Sick of being overlooked. Sick of watching guys like him fall all over girls like that when I’m right here."
Her friends exchanged a glance. "Okay," Maggie said carefully, "let’s get you home before you incinerate someone with your eyes."
Hasti let them tug her toward the exit, but her mind was already racing. Ethan and Blondie were probably headed to some bougie afterparty, some dim-lit bedroom where he’d worship her in ways Hasti wouldn’t even get the chance to experience.
Not in her own skin, anyway.
The thought hit like lightning.
"Bathroom," Hasti announced abruptly, pulling free. "One sec."
She didn’t wait for their protests. The second she was locked in a stall, she braced her hands on the sink, staring at her reflection—flushed cheeks, smudged eyeliner, the fire in her own dark eyes.
She could go home. She could let this night be another anecdote for Maggie and Layla to laugh about later.
Or.
A slow, wicked smile tugged at her lips.
She closed her eyes.
And let her spirit slip free.....
The hallway outside the bathroom was empty. Hasti’s spectral form darted past oblivious bartenders and stumbling drunk girls until she found them—Ethan and Blondie, waiting for the elevator, his hands already under her jacket.
Hasti hovered behind them, revenge sweet on her tongue.
With a deep breath, she reached out. Her fingers—ghostly, but firm—gripped the blonde’s shoulder.
A sharp tug.
The girl slumped forward, her consciousness lifting away like smoke. Ethan frowned, steadying her limp body. "Babe? You okay?"
Hasti didn’t hesitate. She stepped in.
Blonde hair. Pink lips. Long legs. Skin that Nashville adored without question.
When she opened her eyes, Ethan’s face melted into relief. "There you are."
Hasti—no, Aubrey, according to the ID in her clutch—smiled. "Here I am."
And when his lips met hers, she kissed him back, savoring the irony.
Ethan’s mouth was warm, insistent—the kind of kiss that probably made most girls melt. But Hasti (currently piloting Aubrey’s stolen body) felt nothing but burning satisfaction.
Here he is, so eager for a girl who’s basically a mannequin right now.
She let the kiss deepen for exactly three seconds—long enough to really sell it—then abruptly pulled back.
“Wait, what—” Ethan started, eyes dazed.
Hasti smirked. “Oops. Forgot something.”
And then she kneed him square in the crotch.
Ethan doubled over with a strangled “Guh—!”, his face turning a spectacular shade of purple as he crumpled against the elevator doors.
“Asshole,” Hasti hissed in Aubrey’s voice, smoothing down the girl’s short skirt. “Hope that stings all night.”
She left him wheezing on the floor and marched straight to the ladies’ room. Behind the locked stall door, she exhaled and let Aubrey’s consciousness slip back into place, guiding it gently like tucking a sleeping child into bed.
The blonde girl blinked, swaying slightly as she glanced around the bathroom, confused but unharmed. “What the… did I black out?” she muttered, touching her lips like she’d missed something.
Hasti’s spirit zipped back to her own body—still slumped in the bathroom stall—and gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her reflection stared back at her, grinning like a cat who got the cream. The tequila haze hit her full-force, but the giddy thrill of payback was stronger. She checked her reflection, wiped the smudged eyeliner, and strutted out to meet her friends.
"Oh my God, Hasti!" Maggie practically tackled her the second she stepped out of the bathroom. "You missed the best part!"
Layla was wheezing, clutching her stomach. "That blonde girl—the one you were just talking about? She knee’d that guy in the dick."
Maggie mimed an explosion with her hands. "Like, full-on ends of the earth devastation. He looked like he was gonna puke."
Hasti pressed a hand to her chest, feigning shock. "Really? But they seemed so perfect for each other."
Layla dabbed at her smudged eyeliner, still laughing. "Turns out Aubrey"—she said the name like it was a punchline—has standards. King Dickhead got exactly what he deserved."**
Hasti looped her arms through theirs as they stumbled toward the exit, the night air cool on her flushed skin. "Karma’s a beautiful thing," she sighed, grinning.
"Preach," Maggie said, raising an imaginary toast.
And as they spilled onto the sidewalk, laughing under the city lights, Hasti decided something: maybe she didn’t need to borrow anyone’s body to feel powerful.
But damn, it sure was fun.
And as they piled into an Uber, giddy and triumphant, she didn’t even glance back at the club—or the blonde girl now glaring at a still-wincing Ethan.
Some victories were sweeter in silence.
ftf
+4 more
2
6.4K
663
0
0
Navigate All Stories
Start New Story
Story created by
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
possession incest reverse body hopper
by
ellaguru
· 07 Feb 2025
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
possession
+2 more
7.4K
230
8
1
0 / 100,000 characters
Loading...
No selection - the entire chapter will be rewritten.
Similar Stories on Outfox
A NEET terrorizes her family with her possession powers.
It was in the very early morning hours. The whole house was pitch-black and its inhabitants were fast asleep, except for one. The only source of light was the glow emenating from a computer monitor. It illuminated Wendy’s face and the strands of greasy hair glued to it. The synthetic light just faintly revealed the mess in her room: the moldy plates, empty take-out boxes, and dirty clothes, all of which were freely intermixed and strewn about.
Wet sounds and a pungent smell filled the air. Wendy sat in her computer chair in just her underwear and masturbated while playing an erotic dating simulator. She had been an avid fan of video games, especially story-driven ones like visual novels, since she was a kid, but since the twenty-three-year-old failed out of college and moved back in with her parents, she had done nothing but sit in front of her computer and play video games all day long.
She used to be somewhat pretty, but she let herself go quite a bit when she essentially barricaded herself into her old childhood room, only ever leaving to use the bathroom. Since then, she had been escaping more and more into the virtual world of various video games, desperately trying to escape her failures in the outside world. The easily achievable goals in those games provided her with at least a fake sense of fullfilment and purpose.
Initially, she stuck to regular video games and story-driven visual novels. But since moving back home, she got fairly addicted to romantic dating simulators, which provided her a with a substitute for the type of relationship she longed for but could not achieve in real life. Things took even more of a downturn when, a few months ago, after having played through virtually all visual novels, she checked out her first incest-themed eroge, a genre she had not paid any attention to before, but now felt compelled to in order to avoid spending any second alone with her own thoughts.
Right in that moment she was playing through a scene where the main character’s adorable little sister snuck into her older brother’s bed and snuggled up to him under the covers. The game quickly turned erotic and, in response, Wendy let out a long, deep grunt, signaling her climax.
To recuperate from her self-satisfaction, Wendy leaned back into her chair and looked up at her dimmly-lit ceiling. After a few moments an idea popped into her head. She got up and, for the first time in a while, left her room for a reason other than to use the bathroom. She quietly crept through the dark hallway and slowly opened the door two rooms further down, trying to keep it from creaking as to not wake the person sleeping inside.
After entering the room, she managed to silently close the door behind her and then tip-toed towards the bed inside. There, she lifted the covers and carefully laid down next to her older brother Josh who was sleeping soundly. She then cozied up to him under the blanket just like she had seen the little sister do in her video game. She was now right next to him with her foul breath caressing his skin.
Wanting to recreate the scene from her video game, Wendy began carefully fishing her brother’s limp dick out of his pyjama pants and gently rubbed it until it was fully errect. She then rolled on top of him, pushed her panties aside, and stealthily slipped his dick into her hungry snatch.
Meanwhile, Josh was having the most amazing dream. In it, he found himself in an infinite, white void where he was hooking up with the most breathtakingly beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her long, brunette hair appeared to be silky-soft as it gently swayed around her slender frame with each motion, lending her an ethereal presence. The only things about her that he found more captivating than her radiant smile were her full, ripe breasts, which were practically begging to be devoured. She seemed really familiar to Josh, although he could not quite place where he had seen her before. Maybe she was an ex-girlfriend he had forgotten about. Nevertheless, he did not want to keep this unknown beauty waiting by fretting about it.
Josh and the mysterious girl had already fully shed their clothes and were eager to get things going. He laid down on the most comfortable bed imaginable, which had appeared out of nowhere without him ever noticing. Lying on his back, he watched as his dream lover expertly fondled his privates while looking up at him with hungry eyes. In no time he was ready to take her. The nameless vixen sat on top of him and began immediately riding him, placing her hands on his hard abs for support. Her hot, silky depths engulfed him completely as her smooth, hairless body writhed with pleasure. Biting her lower lip, she failed to stifle the soft moans escaping from her mouth that accompanied the expressions of extacy on her gorgeous face. They caressed Josh’s ears like the sweatest of melodies, bewitching him like a siren. The pleasure that grew in his groin was overwhelming, beyond anything he had ever experienced in real life.
Yet, something about her felt odd to him. Despite her small size and lithe body, the dreamy nymph on top of him felt unusually heavy. This bizarre fact made him realize that he was actually dreaming, which immediately ripped him from his sleep.
Completely disoriented, the only things Josh could perceive in the dark was labored breathing and groaning, and a heavy weight bouncing up and down on him. At first he hoped that this might be a continuation of his wonderful dream, but when a lurid stench crept up his nose he knew for certain that he was awake. Wanting to find out who or what was disturbing his sweet dreams, he turned to his night stand right beside his bed to turn on the light. For a few seconds the sudden presence of light blinded him like a flash of lightning. But when his eyes had acclimated to the new-found brightness, he was horrified by the ghastly figure sitting on top of him.
“Wendy!!”, Josh exlaimed as he recognized his grody younger sister straddling him, wearing only a bra and panties. Her grin was barely visible through her greasy hair and the bra that had failed to adjust to her increased size dug deeply into her chubby shape, almost cutting off circulation to her formless breasts. “What the hell are you doing in my room in the middle of the night? And why are you sitting on top of me?” Josh demanded angrily. “Oh, Josh,” was the only answer Wendy could moan, never breaking with the rhythm of her movements. Hearing these sexual sounds come from his sister’s mouth was like fingernails on a chalkboard to his ears.
Her abhorrent, yet puzzling, response made Josh’s eyes wander lower. He gagged violently when he discovered his dick was burried deep inside his sister’s rancid, unkempt snatch, even feeling her coarse pubes rubbing against his skin as she was grinding her crotch against his. He felt so repulsed by this disgusting sight that he could have projectile-vomitted every meal he had ever had in his life right in that very moment. Luckily, his stomach was completely empty or he would have made an even bigger mess out of this situation.
“Get off of me!” Josh yelled while forcefully pushing his grody sister away. Wendy fell off his dick, off his bed, and on onto the floor, landing there with a strong thud. She quickly scrambled back onto her feet. “Why did you do that?” she hissed. “That’s what I should be asking! Why were you having sex with me, Wendy? You’re my sister! That’s so fucked!” he exclaimed. “But I’m your cute little sister, bro. Don’t you find me adorable,” she said batting her eye-lids, trying to charm her brother, but somehow ending up looking even creepier.
“Eewww, you’re sick, Wendy! Sick and vile!” Josh said disgusted. “And not just that, you’re also fucking filthy. I’d rather rip my own dick off and poke my eyes out with it than have sex with you, even if we were the last two people on earth stranded on a lonely island! I wish you’d just disappear forever and leave us alone.” Her brother’s harsh remarks finally burst the fantasy that Wendy had built up in her mind over the past few months of playing eroges. The reality she tried to run from came crashing down on her right in this moment, as Josh’s cutting words hurt her deeply.
“Fine!” Wendy said scorned and full of anger. “If you want me to disappear, then that’s what I will do, I guess!” With tears of anger welling up, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Wait! Wendy! Nooo—!” Josh exclaimed, trying to stop her. But it was too late. As if something had zapped the life out of her, Wendy instantly lost all the tension in her body and collapsed face-first onto her brother’s bed. At the same time, Josh’s eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body began convulsing vigorously. Then something inside of him snapped and he, too, lost almost all the tension in his body, just barely being able to stand. His head was loosely dangling from his neck.
After a few moments of silence, Josh seemed to wake up, as both his heads slowly rose up again. But when he opened his eyes, he was no longer in control. His sister Wendy had somehow developed the powers to take over other people’s bodies during her early teenage years. At first she was shy and reluctant about them, as she used to be a gentle soul. She simply could not square it with her conscience to control other people. The most she would do was ride along in the friends or family members of a boy she had a crush on at the time. When her parents found out about her powers, they immediately scolded her and forbade her from ever using her powers. But as Wendy grew older, her parents realized that their daughter did not have any ill intentions and began relaxing about the situation.
But when Wendy failed out of college and her mental health declined, things turned scary for her family. She became more and more controlling and petulant, throwing tamper tantrums anytime anyone disturbed her or tried to tell her what to do. She also became increasingly blasé about using her powers, taking over her family, neighbors, and anyone in reach for the smallest of matters, just so she would never have to leave her room.
On a few occasions Wendy had even used her powers to blackmail people into doing what she wanted, even when she was not possessing them. Another time she had stalked a poor guy who she had become at first infatuated and then obsessed with on social media. She had followed him around as different people, watching every step he made, every second of his life for two months. She only stopped because she eventually became bored of him.
These were the myriad of reasons that her family now lived in fear of her. Her parents could not throw her out because of her powers. They themselves could not move out since all their savings were tied into their house. Their youngest daughter, Alice, refused to leave, as she did not want her parents to suffer alone. And even Josh had moved back in as a means to protect his family, which is why he now found himself not in control of his own body.
“Josh” grinned from ear to ear as he patted down “his” flat chest. “He” then flexed his biceps, admiring his own strength. Next, he grabbed his dick, which was already painfully errect, with both his hands and began firmly squeezing it. He could virtually feel the blood pulsing through the thick meat of his sizeable member. “He” then turned to the person lying on his bed and said, “I’m soooo sorry, ‘sis’. I didn’t mean to hurt you. My words came out all wrong. What I meant to say was that you are the most adorable little sister a big brother could ever wish for! Here, let me show you how much I love you.”
With that, “Josh” stepped towards Wendy’s comatose body and snaked his big, strong hands underneath her torso. “Oh, my. When did my cute little sister grow up to be such a woman?” “he” cooed while groping her flabby breasts. Without turning over her heavy frame, “Josh” glid his rough hands along her pudgy waist and onto her even wider hips, firmly grabbing ahold of them. “He” then carefully wormed his prick into “his sister’s” slimy, hairy cunt, before forcefully jamming his entire length into her unconscious flesh.
Without any further hesitation, “Josh” began viciously fucking his sleeping sister, pumping in and out of her like an animal while groaning and grunting like a bull. “He” nearly worked himself into a frenzy. Wendy’s rotten odor began reeking from all the friction and heat they created, which seemed to turn him on even more. For the next two minutes, the clapping of “his” hips against her sizeable cheeks echoed throughout the room until “he” finally hit is climax and then dumped his thick load inside of “his” sister’s gooey slit. Still inside of her, he collapsed on top of her and under heavy breathing whispered into her ear, “I love you, ‘sis’.”
--------------------------------------------------------
It was very late in the morning, almost creeping on noon, when Christine, the mother of the house, stood in the kitchen and prepared some food. She was cheerfully humming a tune while cutting up a cantalope and placing slices of ham on pieces of crispy toast. She then artfully aranged the food on a plate, in a way that was worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant. The food was not only delicious but also visually appetizing, and so was her ample bosom that was proudly put on display by a low-cut, floral sundress, which gently hugged her motherly curves.
Still humming to herself, Christine picked up the plate, left the kitchen, and went up the stairs with a joyful bounce to her step, which not only made the hem of her short dress dance around her hips and tickle her thighs but also made her opulent mounds jiggle playfully. Upstairs, she entered her daughter’s dingy room without either knocking or turning on the lights and placed the food on her desk. “Enjoy your breakfast, honey,” she whispered to a sleeping Wendy.
Without any further hesitation, Christine left her daughter’s room and headed straight to the master bedroom. Behind locked doors she made her way over to her full-sized mirror and began admiring herself. Slowly, a big, dirty grin spread across her face. “Thank you, mother, for providing me with such a healthy breakfast,” “Christine” said in a sickly-sweet tone, seemingly mocking herself. “You always taught me to eat my daily share of fruits, and your ‘melons’ are especially delicious,” she said while giving her huge globes a firm squeeze. “She” then slowly moved her hands along “her” waist and hips, closely following and enjoying every inch of her delectable curves, and then began groping her big, womanly ass. “And let’s not forget about your delicious meat! I gotta hand it to you: you got a real meatsuit of a body, mom!”
“Christine” then threw herself onto her bed and immediately began furiously masturbating, not even bothering to undress. One hand tightly squeezed her fleshy tits while the other inserted two fingers into her hungry snatch, dragging her panties along with them as they plummeted the depths of her steaming hot hole that had given birth to three children, one of which was now in control of her body and effectively molesting her own mother.
Regrettably, “Christine” soon had to remove her hand from her supple twins in order to cover her mouth and stiffle her moans, so that she would not alert the whole house to her lewd activities. Meanwhile, the other hand continued to slip in and out of her unabated. Under the assault from such intense stimulation, it did not take long for her to reach her peak, which she celebrated by letting out a long, muffled scream.
The only thing “Christine” was able to do in the immediate aftermath was to lay on her back, breathing heavily, and bask in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her panties and her hand were now drenched in her juices. But, alas, her bliss was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. “Mom, are you in there?” Josh asked loudly through the door. “Have you seen my black shirt? I’ve been looking all over for it!”
“Christine” quickly scrambled onto her feet and straightend out her dress and hair, trying to make herself look as presentable as possible, as to not tip off “her son” to what kept her so busy. She cracked the door open just barely enough to stick her head out, hiding her body behind the door and her dripping wet hand behind her back. “Have you checked the laundry? I’m pretty sure I’ve put it in the wash recently,” she answered his query. “Yeah, I did. I guess I’m gonna check again, just to be sure,” Josh said and was already turning to walk away.
“Wait!” “Christine” suddenly exlaimed a little bit too loudly, as a most devious idea popped into her head. “What?” Josh asked somewhat startled. “You’ve got a smudge on the corner of your mouth” she explained. “Where?” he said while trying to wipe the imaginary stain from his face. “No, it’s still there. Here, let me try,” she said, now fully opening the door and finally stepping out of the room.
Josh was taken by surprise when “his mother” suddenly got so close to him that she was essentially pushing her opulent chest against his torso. Looking down he saw her face with an expresssion of concentration look up at him. Underneath that he caught a glimpse of her soft pillows bulging out of the top of her dress as they were pressed flat against him.
“M–Mom, w–what are you doing?” Jost stammered, as he began to blush. “Hold still! Just let me get it real quick,” “Christine” demanded. Unbeknownst to Josh, though, the hand which “his mother” was now smearing all over his face was still coated in her sticky juices.
Since Josh was quite a bit taller than his mother, “Christine” raised herself up by standing on the tips of her toes to better reach and more closely inspect his face. In the process, she pushed her breasts even deeper into him and slid them up along his chest until their nipples were perfectly aligned with each other.
“M–Mom, s–stop it!” Josh said while struggling to get away from her, as her face was now close enough that he could feel her hot breath on his skin. “Hold still!” “Christine” demanded. “The more you move the longer it will take.” Never having been this close to his own mother, at least not since he was a child, Josh caught a whiff of her perfume which was followed by a strange, musky smell.
Coming into such intimate contact with a woman’s body made the inside of Josh’s pants swell rapidly. His dick did not care who it was, flesh was flesh. But the thought that it was his own mother’s flesh surprisingly made him grow even harder. So hard, in fact, that he was now poking her belly with his manhood.
Appaled by his own reaction, Josh pushed who he thought was his mother away from himself. “Thanks, I think it’s gone now,” he yelled out without looking at her, trying to hide that his face was now a deep crimson. He then hastily fled to his room, almost tripping over himself, as he desperately tried to escape this embarrassing situation. “Christine” on the other just chuckled to herself, as she was highly amused by “her son’s” reaction.
That night Christine and Gilbert could be heard enjoying each other throughout the house.
--------------------------------------------------------
A lot of clanking, rattling, and cursing could be heard coming from the garage. Christine had asked her husband Gilbert to look after the car, since it had been making a lot of weird noises lately and even had briefly died on her the other day. This is why Gilbert, a man in his early fifties who, despite his thinning hair and slight dad bob, had still retained some of his youthful handsomeness, was now bent over the car’s engine covered in dirt and motor oil, occasionally bonking his head on the hood of the car.
Just as he finished changing the oil, his daughter Alice walked in. Unlike her sister Wendy, Alice had always been a Daddy’s girl. She and her father had been attached by the hip to each other ever since she was born. Even throughout puberty, when most other teenagers vie for their independence, she had stayed close to her Dad who had remained a steadfast anchor for her. Even now, the twenty-year-old college student loved spending time with her father more than anything else. Ever since she was a little child, one of her favorite things to do was to sit in her father’s lap and play Super Mario Bros., earning her the nickname “princess”.
There was something about her father’s presence that was incredibly relaxing to her, which is why the slim brunette did not mind him seeing her in only a pair of yoga pants and a tight spaghetti-strap top without a bra. Her outfit revealed the outline of her nubile form in great detail, including her pert buns and her gravity-defying orbs. Even her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her top as soon as they got a taste of the chilly air inside the garage.
“Hey, Dad! Watcha doing?” Alice exclaimed with a beaming smile on her face. She threw her arms enthusiastically around her father’s waist, smushing her buoyant breasts against his soft belly in the process. “Not much,” Gilbert replied while reciprocating her loving embrace. He rocked her from side to side, thereby squishing his daughter’s youthful mounds even tighter against himself. “Your mother was complaining about the car so I thought maybe I could get the old can working again. What about you, princess? Wanna hang out with your old man?”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Alice said. “But I just came here to get a screwdriver to fix the recliner on my chair.” “Well, then don’t let me stop you,” Gilbert said and booped her on the nose, coating its tip with black grease from his dirty hands. When they released their embrace and Alice made her way towards the shelf on the other side of the garage, Gilbert watched his daughter’s backside and discovered that he had accidentally smeared black grease all over her. Most of it covered her shoulders and upper arms, but some of it even got on her lower back.
The tool she was looking for was located on the top-most shelf, so Alice had to really stretch herself to reach up high. But, it was not enough, as she was still missing a few inches. She then tried jumping up and down, making her luscious body, and especially her firm cheeks, shake vigorously every time she returned to the ground. Yet, she still came up short. For a while, Gilbert closely eyed his daughter’s antics before he walked over to her and said, “Here, let me help you with that.”
Alice suddenly yelped as her father, without warning, scooped up her tight little butt with his big, strong hands, and lifted her up high. His palms essentially provided a seat for her from which she comfortably could reach the tool she needed. Gilbert then gently put her down again, leaving two big, greasy handprints on his daughter’s rear.
Her father’s sudden display of strength left Alice a bit frazzled. For a moment she just stood there in silence, still facing away from him. She did not know what was happening to her. As a kid she had loved being picked up by her Dad and would cling to him like a koala. But that was ages ago. Now that she was fully grown she felt differently. No man had ever handled her like that, lifting her entire adult weight so easily. It somehow made her heart beat much faster and left her short of breath. She tried to swallow down those strange feelings, yet she still blushed when she tucked her long, brunette hair behind her ears.
Alice was in the middle of turning to face her father, wanting to ask him what that was all about, when she suddenly felt as if her feet were knocked away from under her legs, making her trip and fall chest-first towards him. Gilbert instinctively tried to catch her fall, but by doing so his daughter’s perky mounds landed squarely on his big, greasy hands. His dirty palms molded themselves perfectly around the swell of her pliable breasts. Alice thought she might be going crazy, but she could have sworn she had felt her Dad give her boobs a firm squeeze. Nevertheless, her nipples still visibly stiffened.
“Uhm, … Dad?” Alice squeaked with her father’s hands still cupping her twins. “Yes, princess? Are you alright?” Gilbert asked with worry on his face. “Yeah, … I guess so …,” she mumbled while getting back on her own feet. When Gilbert’s hands finally disconnected from his daughter’s body, they revealed yet another pair of big, black handprints, this time squarely on her chest.
“Are you sure? You seem kinda out of it,” Gilbert said while trying to feel his daughter’s forehead with the back of his hand. Alice swatted his hand away more aggressively than she had intended. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said with a bit of agitation in her voice. “I …, uh …, I need to change.”
Unable to deny the heat welling up inside of her, Alice tried to leave as quickly as she could, but on her way out her Dad surprised her yet again by giving her a not-so-fatherly pat on her ass. She turned her head around one last time and to give her “father” a quizzical look, but the expression on his face betrayed nothing but paternal intentions. Yet, as soon as she had left the garage, “Gilbert’s” warm expression turned sinister and a big, wet stain began to form on the crotch of his pants.
--------------------------------------------------------
It was late at night. Christine and Gilbert had gone out earlier that evening and were not expected to return until the next morning, leaving the “kids“ home alone. The whole house was wrapped in silence, except for the blaring of the TV coming from the living room. Josh sat alone on the couch watching a movie when Alice came shuffling into the room. She was completely draped in a giant blanket, dragging a long train behind her, making it almost look like a wedding dress.
“Heeeyy, Josh. What are you doing?” Alice asked drowsily. “Oh, nothing much. Just watching a movie. What’s up with you? Why the huge-ass blanket?” her brother responded. “I’m a little cold. Mind if I join you?” “Sure. Be my guest” he said patting the spot next to him and then placed his arm on the back of the couch. She took up his offer and sat down beside him, putting up her legs and angling them to the side, all while making sure to never leave the comforting warmth of her blanket.
“Oh, hey, isn’t that the movie we used to watch a lot as kids?” Alice asked. “Yeah,” Josh responded. “I happened to come across it while I was flipping through the channels.” “Boy, I haven’t seen it in years. I completely forgot about it. I remember we used to watch it every time it was on. I even used to scour the TV magazines so that I always knew when to catch it,” Alice said excitedly. “Yeah, I’ve been watching it only for a few minutes, yet there are so many lines that come back to me just seconds before they show up in the movie,“ Josh said joining in on the excitement.
The two siblings kept laughing and joking, quoting lines from the movie as they appeared on screen, and reveling in old memories. After sharing lots of heartfelt moments, Alice suddenly asked her brother, “Are you cold, too?” Without waiting for an answer, she began covering him with the excess half of her blanket. “Here, let me give you some of my blanket. That’ll warm you up in no time.” “Well, I wasn’t really cold. But, thanks, I guess,” the young man commented.
Underneath the blanket, Alice sidled up closer to her brother and put her head on his shoulder. They had always gotten along great, yet he was somewhat surprised about how she was acting chummier than usual. But since they were sharing a deeply bonding moment, he didn’t question it any further. Sitting like that with his sister felt comfortable to him, making him relax deeply, and allowing himself to completely get lost in the movie.
For the rest of the night, the two of them kept watching the movie in silence. When it was over, Josh’s immersion finally broke and he came back to the real world. He switched off the TV and was about to turn towards his sister when he noticed that the top of her head was right underneath his nose. Somehow she had sneakily wrapped her arms around his waist and had fallen asleep with her head nestled against his chest. Most of her body laid on top of him in a tight embrace.
Alice’s gentle snores reminded Josh of a cat’s soft purrs. He thought that, in this moment, his little sister was the most adorable. But when the sweet fragrance of her peach-flavored shampoo invaded his nose, it caused something to stir deep inside of him, in a place completely unbeknownst to him. To his shock, he began to grow hard.
Confused about his feelings, Josh just sat there, not daring to make a move. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Alice woke up. Rustling underneath the blanket she looked up at him with bleary eyes. When the vision of her brother’s face came into focus she greeted him with a beaming smile. For a long moment, they just gazed at each other wordlessly. Her big, glimmering eyes looked up at him longingly, which made him blush and melted away all his natural defences. He was now at full mast.
Josh then watched in slow-motion how his sister closed her eyes and moved in closer. When he felt her tender lips on his, he was completly stunned. His jaw dropped in shock, which Alice interpreted as an invitation to sneak her tongue into his mouth. At first he went along with it by pure instinct. But when it finally sank in that he was, in fact, really kissing his sister, he shoved her away in panic, making the blanket slip down a bit, uncovering her bare shoulders.
“Stooooppp!!” Josh yelled. “What are you doing? You’re my sister! We can’t be doing that!” Tears began welling up in Alice’s eyes in response to his sudden outburst. “But Josh …,” she whimpered. “Don’t you love me?” She looked at him expectantly with her watery eyes. “Nooo!!!” he continued yelling. “I-I-I mean, y-yes, I-I m-mean, no!” he stammered. “Aarghh! I don’t love you like thaaat!”
Alice dropped her head seemingly in defeat. But something about her demeanor changed, like a shadow was cast over her eyes. Suddenly Josh felt something scurrying around his scrotch underneath the blanket. He realized it was his sister’s hands trying to undo his belt and zipper. Now even more panicked, he pushed her away more forcefully than before, accidentally throwing the blanket off of her in the process and revealing that she had been naked underneath.
“Alice!! Why the hell are you naked?!?! What is wrong with you today?” Josh kept yelling. With a dark, menacing grin forming on her face, she growled at him, “You better let this happen. We don’t want her to find herself in a compromising situation, do we?” “Wendy…,” Josh gasped, the words getting stuck in his throat. His mind was sent on a rollercoaster, desperately struggling for a solution on how to get out of this situation. But deep down, Josh knew he had nothing against her powers.
Completely dejected, Josh finally resigned himself to his fate. “Alice”, on the other hand, squealed with excitement and, like a child ripping open a present on christmas, frantically tried to get her brother’s dick out of his pants. When she finally freed it from its denim prison, his rigid member sprung out with the energy of a coil spring. She then swung one of her smooth legs over her brother and placed herself squarely on top of him.
Without any further hesitation, “Alice” slowly lowered her unclad, nubile form towards her brother’s penis. His bulbous head at first just barely kissed her velvety folds, but then gently parted them, and finally, by completely piercing her labia, desecrated that holy bond between brother and sister.
“Wendy, we have to stop this! We’re not wearing any protection!” Josh tried to protest one last time. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure this little slut is on birth control” “Alice” hissed. She was straining to force herself down her brother’s girth. “Hhnnnnnghhhoooohhhh my god she is so tight” she said panting. “She must still be a virgin. Well, not anymore, hehe.” Her small, hairless lips formed a tight seal around his thick shaft. To keep going further, she arched her back and angled her hips for maximum penetration.
When she finally bottomed out, “Alice” grabbed Josh’s head and started giving him a deep passionate kiss. Her long, brown hair draped over them, curtailing the world from seeing the forbidden intimacy they were sharing. While they kept kissing, “Alice” started to moan into his mouth, as she began slowly working her way up and down her brother’s shaft. The more their friction and passion increased, the more she ruffled his hair, her hands’ movements becoming more and more frantic.
Meanwhile, Josh moved his hands down his sister’s bare back and glid them first along her waist, then her hips, and finally around the sensual curve of her butt. He gave her firm cheeks a strong squeeze, while at the same time supporting her petite body with his manly hands. At last, he finally gave in to his new-found, forbidden desires and started humping his sister in sync with the rhythm of her movements.
Getting wetter by the second, “Alice’s” juices by now provided enough lubrication for her to easily glide along her brother’s member. She broke off their kiss, sat upgright, and began to drastically increase her speed. As she was bouncing up and down on Josh’s dick, her perky tits kept jiggling wildy about. To aleviate that, she took her brother’s hands and firmly placed them on top of her shapley breasts. He eagerly accepted her offer and began digging his fingers deeply into the tender flesh of his sister’s swollen boobs, ferociously groping and squeezing them like a man who lost all his inhibitions.
Greed seemed to overtake Josh, as he followed his sister’s lead by sitting upright and then tightly embracing her lithe body while she kept viciously riding his cock. Hungrily, he placed his mouth on her delicious breasts and began sucking and licking and biting her nipples, practically devouring her boobs and almost swallowing them whole. His sister rewarded him by giving off a series of high-pitched moans and clamping down on his dick.
“Wendy …,” Josh gasped short of breath and inbetween sucking his sister’s nipples. “What is it, bro?” Alice moaned. “I don’t… I don’t think I can hold it any lo—” was the last thing Josh managed to say before he finally errupted inside his sister like a volcano, spraying his creamy spunk all over his her insides. Feeling her brother’s hot goo coating her inner walls set off “Alice’s” own orgasm, making her join him in his extacy. Her body, which was glistening from all the excertion, began shaking from top to bottom as if a current of electricity ran through her.
When the tension suddenly left her body, “Alice” collapsed on top of her brother. Completely drained, she nestled her head against his chest, breathing heavily and with strands of her sweat-drenched hair sticking to her face. “I love you, Josh,” “Alice” whispered sweetly. “I love you, too,” he sighed unconvincingly. His dick was still inside deep his sister, refusing to go limp.
--------------------------------------------------------
For the past month there had been a large shadow hanging over their household. Wendy’s shenanigans had sowed mistrust and uneasiness among the members of her family. It all came to a head when Alice finally confronted her brother. “Josh, I’m begging you: please tell me the truth!” Alice pleaded. “What’s going on? Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t even look me in the eyes anymore.” “I said, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Josh hissed without even facing her. His eyes were red and on the verge of tears.
Gilbert and Christine heard their children argue, so they went to investigate. “What’s going with the two of you? Why are you making so much noise?” Gilbert said as he stepped into the room. “Josh, has been avoiding me for weeks now and he won’t tell me what his problem is,” Alice said unnerved. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that, too. Care to explain yourself, son?” Gilbert asked.
Josh tried to block off their barrage of questions, but, after being relentlessly corned by three people, he eventually broke down in tears and confessed how Wendy had taken control of Alice and forced himself onto her, and how he had been unable to resist. The entire room fell silent. Alice’s stomach turned, sickening her to her core. Gilbert was simply stunned, the news leaving his mind completely blank.
Christine, on the other hand, felt an uncontrollable rage explode inside of her. “That’s it!” she yelled with tears of anger in her eyes. “This is way over the line! I’m so sick and tired of her shit. This has to end now!” “Wait! Where are you going?” Gilbert said to the afterimage of his wife as she had already rushed out of the room. The rest of them slowly began to follow her, one after the other, still trying to process the information they had just received.
An absolutely livid Christine stomped furiously down the hallway and violently barged into her daughter’s room, almost knocking the door out of its hinges. There, Wendy laid on her bed and, like so often, just slept. Without waiting for her to wake up, Christine swiftly approached her sleeping daughter, wrapped her hands around her throat, and began strangling her with all her might. Wendy did not seem to make any signs of struggling against her mother’s assault.
“How could you do that?” Christine sobbed uncontrollably as rivers of tears streamed down her face. “I loved you with all my heart. Why did you become such a hateful peson? Where did I go wrong?” she said gritting her teeth. “This is the only way I can make things right!”
Gilbert and Josh were aghast when they stepped into the room and discovered what Christine was doing. Yet, neither of them intervened and tried to stop her. They just stood there and watched.
When everything was over, everybody went quiet again, except for Christine who was unable to stop her tears. Suddenly, Alice, who everyone seemed to have forgotten about, stepped into the room. They all looked at her in disbelief as they watched a creepy, sinister smile form on her pretty face. “No!” Christine whispered. “Actually, yes, mother,” “Alice” countered. “I’m not so easy to get rid of, you see.” “No!” Christine repeated, this time more emphatically. “And from now on, you will all do exactly as I tell you or the police might get an anonymous tip about what has happened to your dearest daughter. Remember this for the rest of you lives: you got blood on your hands, literally, and I won’t hesistate to take any one of you down!” “Alice” said menacingly. It finally dawned on Christine, Gilbert, and Josh that there was no way of escaping Wendy and that they had to resign themselves to the fact that their lives were now fully under her control, essentially making them her personal slaves.
Meanwhile, “Alice”, who was relishing in the power she had over her family, sauntered over towards her father and lifted the front of her skirt, exposing “her” panty-clad pussy. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, Daddy,” she whispered with lust dripping in her voice. Both of her small, feminine hands then reached out and grabbed one of her father’s big, manly hands and slowly guided it underneath her skirt and panties and gently placed it onto her already sopping wet pussy. Gilbert was too stunned to stop her, and even if he had not been, he would not have dared to go against her.
Suddenly, both Alice and Gilbert shuddered simultaneously. “We sure will, princess,” “Gilbert” said with a lecherous expression on his face. “He” then slipped a finger inside “his” daughter’s smooth folds and began aggressively fingering her hole. The real Alice was dazed and confused when she finally came to again. “D–Dad?” she stammared. “W–What’s going o–o–oooohhhhnnggg?!” she moaned, being overwhelmed by an unexpected orgasm as her “father” quickly sent her over the edge.
Christine was horrified as she watched her husband molest their daughter in front of her eyes. Unfortunately, she was unable to do anything about it as a shiver ran down her spine and the same spell that had taken over her husband and daughter was now taking hold of her. “And let’s not neglect these two here,” “Christine” said while firmly squeezing “her” boobs against each other. “She” then climbed onto Wendy’s bed on all fours, pulled up her dress and her panties to the side, and openly offered up “her own” snatch. “Josh, be a good son and come over here and show Mommy how much my boy has grown up?”
At last it was Josh’s turn. Before he could really process the actions unfolding in front of him, he was no longer in control of his body. “Don’t mind if I do!” “Josh” replied eagerly. As fast as lightning “he” walked over to his mother, dropped his pants, and slammed his rock-hard errection into her sloppy slit. Christine, now back in control of her body, was overwhelmed with the pleasurable sensation of her son’s girthy member ramming in and out of her. When she felt her son mauling her big tits from behind, she went completely limp in his arms, as the last of her will left her while “her son” kept hammering her hole. Eventually, they both climaxed at the same time and Christine felt her son’s hot fluids spread throughout her inside.
--------------------------------------------------------
That same night it was raining cats and dogs. Gilbert and Josh, equipped with spades, dug a hole in their backyard to dispose of Wendy’s corpse while Christine and “Alice” watched from the kitchen window.
The four of them would spend the rest of their lives living in fear and terror, as Wendy forced them to live out all of her depraved sex fantasies between sister and brother, father and daughter, mother and son, mother and daugher, and even between father and son.
Eventually, when the last of her family members had passed on, Wendy continued to live on as a formless presence, taking over other people, until the end of time.
It was in the very early morning hours. The whole house was pitch-black and its inhabitants were fast asleep, except for one. The only source of light was the glow emenating from a computer monitor. It illuminated Wendy’s face and the strands of greasy hair glued to it. The synthetic light just faintly revealed the mess in her room: the moldy plates, empty take-out boxes, and dirty clothes, all of which were freely intermixed and strewn about.
Wet sounds and a pungent smell filled the air. Wendy sat in her computer chair in just her underwear and masturbated while playing an erotic dating simulator. She had been an avid fan of video games, especially story-driven ones like visual novels, since she was a kid, but since the twenty-three-year-old failed out of college and moved back in with her parents, she had done nothing but sit in front of her computer and play video games all day long.
She used to be somewhat pretty, but she let herself go quite a bit when she essentially barricaded herself into her old childhood room, only ever leaving to use the bathroom. Since then, she had been escaping more and more into the virtual world of various video games, desperately trying to escape her failures in the outside world. The easily achievable goals in those games provided her with at least a fake sense of fullfilment and purpose.
Initially, she stuck to regular video games and story-driven visual novels. But since moving back home, she got fairly addicted to romantic dating simulators, which provided her a with a substitute for the type of relationship she longed for but could not achieve in real life. Things took even more of a downturn when, a few months ago, after having played through virtually all visual novels, she checked out her first incest-themed eroge, a genre she had not paid any attention to before, but now felt compelled to in order to avoid spending any second alone with her own thoughts.
Right in that moment she was playing through a scene where the main character’s adorable little sister snuck into her older brother’s bed and snuggled up to him under the covers. The game quickly turned erotic and, in response, Wendy let out a long, deep grunt, signaling her climax.
To recuperate from her self-satisfaction, Wendy leaned back into her chair and looked up at her dimmly-lit ceiling. After a few moments an idea popped into her head. She got up and, for the first time in a while, left her room for a reason other than to use the bathroom. She quietly crept through the dark hallway and slowly opened the door two rooms further down, trying to keep it from creaking as to not wake the person sleeping inside.
After entering the room, she managed to silently close the door behind her and then tip-toed towards the bed inside. There, she lifted the covers and carefully laid down next to her older brother Josh who was sleeping soundly. She then cozied up to him under the blanket just like she had seen the little sister do in her video game. She was now right next to him with her foul breath caressing his skin.
Wanting to recreate the scene from her video game, Wendy began carefully fishing her brother’s limp dick out of his pyjama pants and gently rubbed it until it was fully errect. She then rolled on top of him, pushed her panties aside, and stealthily slipped his dick into her hungry snatch.
Meanwhile, Josh was having the most amazing dream. In it, he found himself in an infinite, white void where he was hooking up with the most breathtakingly beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her long, brunette hair appeared to be silky-soft as it gently swayed around her slender frame with each motion, lending her an ethereal presence. The only things about her that he found more captivating than her radiant smile were her full, ripe breasts, which were practically begging to be devoured. She seemed really familiar to Josh, although he could not quite place where he had seen her before. Maybe she was an ex-girlfriend he had forgotten about. Nevertheless, he did not want to keep this unknown beauty waiting by fretting about it.
Josh and the mysterious girl had already fully shed their clothes and were eager to get things going. He laid down on the most comfortable bed imaginable, which had appeared out of nowhere without him ever noticing. Lying on his back, he watched as his dream lover expertly fondled his privates while looking up at him with hungry eyes. In no time he was ready to take her. The nameless vixen sat on top of him and began immediately riding him, placing her hands on his hard abs for support. Her hot, silky depths engulfed him completely as her smooth, hairless body writhed with pleasure. Biting her lower lip, she failed to stifle the soft moans escaping from her mouth that accompanied the expressions of extacy on her gorgeous face. They caressed Josh’s ears like the sweatest of melodies, bewitching him like a siren. The pleasure that grew in his groin was overwhelming, beyond anything he had ever experienced in real life.
Yet, something about her felt odd to him. Despite her small size and lithe body, the dreamy nymph on top of him felt unusually heavy. This bizarre fact made him realize that he was actually dreaming, which immediately ripped him from his sleep.
Completely disoriented, the only things Josh could perceive in the dark was labored breathing and groaning, and a heavy weight bouncing up and down on him. At first he hoped that this might be a continuation of his wonderful dream, but when a lurid stench crept up his nose he knew for certain that he was awake. Wanting to find out who or what was disturbing his sweet dreams, he turned to his night stand right beside his bed to turn on the light. For a few seconds the sudden presence of light blinded him like a flash of lightning. But when his eyes had acclimated to the new-found brightness, he was horrified by the ghastly figure sitting on top of him.
“Wendy!!”, Josh exlaimed as he recognized his grody younger sister straddling him, wearing only a bra and panties. Her grin was barely visible through her greasy hair and the bra that had failed to adjust to her increased size dug deeply into her chubby shape, almost cutting off circulation to her formless breasts. “What the hell are you doing in my room in the middle of the night? And why are you sitting on top of me?” Josh demanded angrily. “Oh, Josh,” was the only answer Wendy could moan, never breaking with the rhythm of her movements. Hearing these sexual sounds come from his sister’s mouth was like fingernails on a chalkboard to his ears.
Her abhorrent, yet puzzling, response made Josh’s eyes wander lower. He gagged violently when he discovered his dick was burried deep inside his sister’s rancid, unkempt snatch, even feeling her coarse pubes rubbing against his skin as she was grinding her crotch against his. He felt so repulsed by this disgusting sight that he could have projectile-vomitted every meal he had ever had in his life right in that very moment. Luckily, his stomach was completely empty or he would have made an even bigger mess out of this situation.
“Get off of me!” Josh yelled while forcefully pushing his grody sister away. Wendy fell off his dick, off his bed, and on onto the floor, landing there with a strong thud. She quickly scrambled back onto her feet. “Why did you do that?” she hissed. “That’s what I should be asking! Why were you having sex with me, Wendy? You’re my sister! That’s so fucked!” he exclaimed. “But I’m your cute little sister, bro. Don’t you find me adorable,” she said batting her eye-lids, trying to charm her brother, but somehow ending up looking even creepier.
“Eewww, you’re sick, Wendy! Sick and vile!” Josh said disgusted. “And not just that, you’re also fucking filthy. I’d rather rip my own dick off and poke my eyes out with it than have sex with you, even if we were the last two people on earth stranded on a lonely island! I wish you’d just disappear forever and leave us alone.” Her brother’s harsh remarks finally burst the fantasy that Wendy had built up in her mind over the past few months of playing eroges. The reality she tried to run from came crashing down on her right in this moment, as Josh’s cutting words hurt her deeply.
“Fine!” Wendy said scorned and full of anger. “If you want me to disappear, then that’s what I will do, I guess!” With tears of anger welling up, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Wait! Wendy! Nooo—!” Josh exclaimed, trying to stop her. But it was too late. As if something had zapped the life out of her, Wendy instantly lost all the tension in her body and collapsed face-first onto her brother’s bed. At the same time, Josh’s eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body began convulsing vigorously. Then something inside of him snapped and he, too, lost almost all the tension in his body, just barely being able to stand. His head was loosely dangling from his neck.
After a few moments of silence, Josh seemed to wake up, as both his heads slowly rose up again. But when he opened his eyes, he was no longer in control. His sister Wendy had somehow developed the powers to take over other people’s bodies during her early teenage years. At first she was shy and reluctant about them, as she used to be a gentle soul. She simply could not square it with her conscience to control other people. The most she would do was ride along in the friends or family members of a boy she had a crush on at the time. When her parents found out about her powers, they immediately scolded her and forbade her from ever using her powers. But as Wendy grew older, her parents realized that their daughter did not have any ill intentions and began relaxing about the situation.
But when Wendy failed out of college and her mental health declined, things turned scary for her family. She became more and more controlling and petulant, throwing tamper tantrums anytime anyone disturbed her or tried to tell her what to do. She also became increasingly blasé about using her powers, taking over her family, neighbors, and anyone in reach for the smallest of matters, just so she would never have to leave her room.
On a few occasions Wendy had even used her powers to blackmail people into doing what she wanted, even when she was not possessing them. Another time she had stalked a poor guy who she had become at first infatuated and then obsessed with on social media. She had followed him around as different people, watching every step he made, every second of his life for two months. She only stopped because she eventually became bored of him.
These were the myriad of reasons that her family now lived in fear of her. Her parents could not throw her out because of her powers. They themselves could not move out since all their savings were tied into their house. Their youngest daughter, Alice, refused to leave, as she did not want her parents to suffer alone. And even Josh had moved back in as a means to protect his family, which is why he now found himself not in control of his own body.
“Josh” grinned from ear to ear as he patted down “his” flat chest. “He” then flexed his biceps, admiring his own strength. Next, he grabbed his dick, which was already painfully errect, with both his hands and began firmly squeezing it. He could virtually feel the blood pulsing through the thick meat of his sizeable member. “He” then turned to the person lying on his bed and said, “I’m soooo sorry, ‘sis’. I didn’t mean to hurt you. My words came out all wrong. What I meant to say was that you are the most adorable little sister a big brother could ever wish for! Here, let me show you how much I love you.”
With that, “Josh” stepped towards Wendy’s comatose body and snaked his big, strong hands underneath her torso. “Oh, my. When did my cute little sister grow up to be such a woman?” “he” cooed while groping her flabby breasts. Without turning over her heavy frame, “Josh” glid his rough hands along her pudgy waist and onto her even wider hips, firmly grabbing ahold of them. “He” then carefully wormed his prick into “his sister’s” slimy, hairy cunt, before forcefully jamming his entire length into her unconscious flesh.
Without any further hesitation, “Josh” began viciously fucking his sleeping sister, pumping in and out of her like an animal while groaning and grunting like a bull. “He” nearly worked himself into a frenzy. Wendy’s rotten odor began reeking from all the friction and heat they created, which seemed to turn him on even more. For the next two minutes, the clapping of “his” hips against her sizeable cheeks echoed throughout the room until “he” finally hit is climax and then dumped his thick load inside of “his” sister’s gooey slit. Still inside of her, he collapsed on top of her and under heavy breathing whispered into her ear, “I love you, ‘sis’.”
--------------------------------------------------------
It was very late in the morning, almost creeping on noon, when Christine, the mother of the house, stood in the kitchen and prepared some food. She was cheerfully humming a tune while cutting up a cantalope and placing slices of ham on pieces of crispy toast. She then artfully aranged the food on a plate, in a way that was worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant. The food was not only delicious but also visually appetizing, and so was her ample bosom that was proudly put on display by a low-cut, floral sundress, which gently hugged her motherly curves.
Still humming to herself, Christine picked up the plate, left the kitchen, and went up the stairs with a joyful bounce to her step, which not only made the hem of her short dress dance around her hips and tickle her thighs but also made her opulent mounds jiggle playfully. Upstairs, she entered her daughter’s dingy room without either knocking or turning on the lights and placed the food on her desk. “Enjoy your breakfast, honey,” she whispered to a sleeping Wendy.
Without any further hesitation, Christine left her daughter’s room and headed straight to the master bedroom. Behind locked doors she made her way over to her full-sized mirror and began admiring herself. Slowly, a big, dirty grin spread across her face. “Thank you, mother, for providing me with such a healthy breakfast,” “Christine” said in a sickly-sweet tone, seemingly mocking herself. “You always taught me to eat my daily share of fruits, and your ‘melons’ are especially delicious,” she said while giving her huge globes a firm squeeze. “She” then slowly moved her hands along “her” waist and hips, closely following and enjoying every inch of her delectable curves, and then began groping her big, womanly ass. “And let’s not forget about your delicious meat! I gotta hand it to you: you got a real meatsuit of a body, mom!”
“Christine” then threw herself onto her bed and immediately began furiously masturbating, not even bothering to undress. One hand tightly squeezed her fleshy tits while the other inserted two fingers into her hungry snatch, dragging her panties along with them as they plummeted the depths of her steaming hot hole that had given birth to three children, one of which was now in control of her body and effectively molesting her own mother.
Regrettably, “Christine” soon had to remove her hand from her supple twins in order to cover her mouth and stiffle her moans, so that she would not alert the whole house to her lewd activities. Meanwhile, the other hand continued to slip in and out of her unabated. Under the assault from such intense stimulation, it did not take long for her to reach her peak, which she celebrated by letting out a long, muffled scream.
The only thing “Christine” was able to do in the immediate aftermath was to lay on her back, breathing heavily, and bask in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her panties and her hand were now drenched in her juices. But, alas, her bliss was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. “Mom, are you in there?” Josh asked loudly through the door. “Have you seen my black shirt? I’ve been looking all over for it!”
“Christine” quickly scrambled onto her feet and straightend out her dress and hair, trying to make herself look as presentable as possible, as to not tip off “her son” to what kept her so busy. She cracked the door open just barely enough to stick her head out, hiding her body behind the door and her dripping wet hand behind her back. “Have you checked the laundry? I’m pretty sure I’ve put it in the wash recently,” she answered his query. “Yeah, I did. I guess I’m gonna check again, just to be sure,” Josh said and was already turning to walk away.
“Wait!” “Christine” suddenly exlaimed a little bit too loudly, as a most devious idea popped into her head. “What?” Josh asked somewhat startled. “You’ve got a smudge on the corner of your mouth” she explained. “Where?” he said while trying to wipe the imaginary stain from his face. “No, it’s still there. Here, let me try,” she said, now fully opening the door and finally stepping out of the room.
Josh was taken by surprise when “his mother” suddenly got so close to him that she was essentially pushing her opulent chest against his torso. Looking down he saw her face with an expresssion of concentration look up at him. Underneath that he caught a glimpse of her soft pillows bulging out of the top of her dress as they were pressed flat against him.
“M–Mom, w–what are you doing?” Jost stammered, as he began to blush. “Hold still! Just let me get it real quick,” “Christine” demanded. Unbeknownst to Josh, though, the hand which “his mother” was now smearing all over his face was still coated in her sticky juices.
Since Josh was quite a bit taller than his mother, “Christine” raised herself up by standing on the tips of her toes to better reach and more closely inspect his face. In the process, she pushed her breasts even deeper into him and slid them up along his chest until their nipples were perfectly aligned with each other.
“M–Mom, s–stop it!” Josh said while struggling to get away from her, as her face was now close enough that he could feel her hot breath on his skin. “Hold still!” “Christine” demanded. “The more you move the longer it will take.” Never having been this close to his own mother, at least not since he was a child, Josh caught a whiff of her perfume which was followed by a strange, musky smell.
Coming into such intimate contact with a woman’s body made the inside of Josh’s pants swell rapidly. His dick did not care who it was, flesh was flesh. But the thought that it was his own mother’s flesh surprisingly made him grow even harder. So hard, in fact, that he was now poking her belly with his manhood.
Appaled by his own reaction, Josh pushed who he thought was his mother away from himself. “Thanks, I think it’s gone now,” he yelled out without looking at her, trying to hide that his face was now a deep crimson. He then hastily fled to his room, almost tripping over himself, as he desperately tried to escape this embarrassing situation. “Christine” on the other just chuckled to herself, as she was highly amused by “her son’s” reaction.
That night Christine and Gilbert could be heard enjoying each other throughout the house.
--------------------------------------------------------
A lot of clanking, rattling, and cursing could be heard coming from the garage. Christine had asked her husband Gilbert to look after the car, since it had been making a lot of weird noises lately and even had briefly died on her the other day. This is why Gilbert, a man in his early fifties who, despite his thinning hair and slight dad bob, had still retained some of his youthful handsomeness, was now bent over the car’s engine covered in dirt and motor oil, occasionally bonking his head on the hood of the car.
Just as he finished changing the oil, his daughter Alice walked in. Unlike her sister Wendy, Alice had always been a Daddy’s girl. She and her father had been attached by the hip to each other ever since she was born. Even throughout puberty, when most other teenagers vie for their independence, she had stayed close to her Dad who had remained a steadfast anchor for her. Even now, the twenty-year-old college student loved spending time with her father more than anything else. Ever since she was a little child, one of her favorite things to do was to sit in her father’s lap and play Super Mario Bros., earning her the nickname “princess”.
There was something about her father’s presence that was incredibly relaxing to her, which is why the slim brunette did not mind him seeing her in only a pair of yoga pants and a tight spaghetti-strap top without a bra. Her outfit revealed the outline of her nubile form in great detail, including her pert buns and her gravity-defying orbs. Even her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her top as soon as they got a taste of the chilly air inside the garage.
“Hey, Dad! Watcha doing?” Alice exclaimed with a beaming smile on her face. She threw her arms enthusiastically around her father’s waist, smushing her buoyant breasts against his soft belly in the process. “Not much,” Gilbert replied while reciprocating her loving embrace. He rocked her from side to side, thereby squishing his daughter’s youthful mounds even tighter against himself. “Your mother was complaining about the car so I thought maybe I could get the old can working again. What about you, princess? Wanna hang out with your old man?”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Alice said. “But I just came here to get a screwdriver to fix the recliner on my chair.” “Well, then don’t let me stop you,” Gilbert said and booped her on the nose, coating its tip with black grease from his dirty hands. When they released their embrace and Alice made her way towards the shelf on the other side of the garage, Gilbert watched his daughter’s backside and discovered that he had accidentally smeared black grease all over her. Most of it covered her shoulders and upper arms, but some of it even got on her lower back.
The tool she was looking for was located on the top-most shelf, so Alice had to really stretch herself to reach up high. But, it was not enough, as she was still missing a few inches. She then tried jumping up and down, making her luscious body, and especially her firm cheeks, shake vigorously every time she returned to the ground. Yet, she still came up short. For a while, Gilbert closely eyed his daughter’s antics before he walked over to her and said, “Here, let me help you with that.”
Alice suddenly yelped as her father, without warning, scooped up her tight little butt with his big, strong hands, and lifted her up high. His palms essentially provided a seat for her from which she comfortably could reach the tool she needed. Gilbert then gently put her down again, leaving two big, greasy handprints on his daughter’s rear.
Her father’s sudden display of strength left Alice a bit frazzled. For a moment she just stood there in silence, still facing away from him. She did not know what was happening to her. As a kid she had loved being picked up by her Dad and would cling to him like a koala. But that was ages ago. Now that she was fully grown she felt differently. No man had ever handled her like that, lifting her entire adult weight so easily. It somehow made her heart beat much faster and left her short of breath. She tried to swallow down those strange feelings, yet she still blushed when she tucked her long, brunette hair behind her ears.
Alice was in the middle of turning to face her father, wanting to ask him what that was all about, when she suddenly felt as if her feet were knocked away from under her legs, making her trip and fall chest-first towards him. Gilbert instinctively tried to catch her fall, but by doing so his daughter’s perky mounds landed squarely on his big, greasy hands. His dirty palms molded themselves perfectly around the swell of her pliable breasts. Alice thought she might be going crazy, but she could have sworn she had felt her Dad give her boobs a firm squeeze. Nevertheless, her nipples still visibly stiffened.
“Uhm, … Dad?” Alice squeaked with her father’s hands still cupping her twins. “Yes, princess? Are you alright?” Gilbert asked with worry on his face. “Yeah, … I guess so …,” she mumbled while getting back on her own feet. When Gilbert’s hands finally disconnected from his daughter’s body, they revealed yet another pair of big, black handprints, this time squarely on her chest.
“Are you sure? You seem kinda out of it,” Gilbert said while trying to feel his daughter’s forehead with the back of his hand. Alice swatted his hand away more aggressively than she had intended. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said with a bit of agitation in her voice. “I …, uh …, I need to change.”
Unable to deny the heat welling up inside of her, Alice tried to leave as quickly as she could, but on her way out her Dad surprised her yet again by giving her a not-so-fatherly pat on her ass. She turned her head around one last time and to give her “father” a quizzical look, but the expression on his face betrayed nothing but paternal intentions. Yet, as soon as she had left the garage, “Gilbert’s” warm expression turned sinister and a big, wet stain began to form on the crotch of his pants.
--------------------------------------------------------
It was late at night. Christine and Gilbert had gone out earlier that evening and were not expected to return until the next morning, leaving the “kids“ home alone. The whole house was wrapped in silence, except for the blaring of the TV coming from the living room. Josh sat alone on the couch watching a movie when Alice came shuffling into the room. She was completely draped in a giant blanket, dragging a long train behind her, making it almost look like a wedding dress.
“Heeeyy, Josh. What are you doing?” Alice asked drowsily. “Oh, nothing much. Just watching a movie. What’s up with you? Why the huge-ass blanket?” her brother responded. “I’m a little cold. Mind if I join you?” “Sure. Be my guest” he said patting the spot next to him and then placed his arm on the back of the couch. She took up his offer and sat down beside him, putting up her legs and angling them to the side, all while making sure to never leave the comforting warmth of her blanket.
“Oh, hey, isn’t that the movie we used to watch a lot as kids?” Alice asked. “Yeah,” Josh responded. “I happened to come across it while I was flipping through the channels.” “Boy, I haven’t seen it in years. I completely forgot about it. I remember we used to watch it every time it was on. I even used to scour the TV magazines so that I always knew when to catch it,” Alice said excitedly. “Yeah, I’ve been watching it only for a few minutes, yet there are so many lines that come back to me just seconds before they show up in the movie,“ Josh said joining in on the excitement.
The two siblings kept laughing and joking, quoting lines from the movie as they appeared on screen, and reveling in old memories. After sharing lots of heartfelt moments, Alice suddenly asked her brother, “Are you cold, too?” Without waiting for an answer, she began covering him with the excess half of her blanket. “Here, let me give you some of my blanket. That’ll warm you up in no time.” “Well, I wasn’t really cold. But, thanks, I guess,” the young man commented.
Underneath the blanket, Alice sidled up closer to her brother and put her head on his shoulder. They had always gotten along great, yet he was somewhat surprised about how she was acting chummier than usual. But since they were sharing a deeply bonding moment, he didn’t question it any further. Sitting like that with his sister felt comfortable to him, making him relax deeply, and allowing himself to completely get lost in the movie.
For the rest of the night, the two of them kept watching the movie in silence. When it was over, Josh’s immersion finally broke and he came back to the real world. He switched off the TV and was about to turn towards his sister when he noticed that the top of her head was right underneath his nose. Somehow she had sneakily wrapped her arms around his waist and had fallen asleep with her head nestled against his chest. Most of her body laid on top of him in a tight embrace.
Alice’s gentle snores reminded Josh of a cat’s soft purrs. He thought that, in this moment, his little sister was the most adorable. But when the sweet fragrance of her peach-flavored shampoo invaded his nose, it caused something to stir deep inside of him, in a place completely unbeknownst to him. To his shock, he began to grow hard.
Confused about his feelings, Josh just sat there, not daring to make a move. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Alice woke up. Rustling underneath the blanket she looked up at him with bleary eyes. When the vision of her brother’s face came into focus she greeted him with a beaming smile. For a long moment, they just gazed at each other wordlessly. Her big, glimmering eyes looked up at him longingly, which made him blush and melted away all his natural defences. He was now at full mast.
Josh then watched in slow-motion how his sister closed her eyes and moved in closer. When he felt her tender lips on his, he was completly stunned. His jaw dropped in shock, which Alice interpreted as an invitation to sneak her tongue into his mouth. At first he went along with it by pure instinct. But when it finally sank in that he was, in fact, really kissing his sister, he shoved her away in panic, making the blanket slip down a bit, uncovering her bare shoulders.
“Stooooppp!!” Josh yelled. “What are you doing? You’re my sister! We can’t be doing that!” Tears began welling up in Alice’s eyes in response to his sudden outburst. “But Josh …,” she whimpered. “Don’t you love me?” She looked at him expectantly with her watery eyes. “Nooo!!!” he continued yelling. “I-I-I mean, y-yes, I-I m-mean, no!” he stammered. “Aarghh! I don’t love you like thaaat!”
Alice dropped her head seemingly in defeat. But something about her demeanor changed, like a shadow was cast over her eyes. Suddenly Josh felt something scurrying around his scrotch underneath the blanket. He realized it was his sister’s hands trying to undo his belt and zipper. Now even more panicked, he pushed her away more forcefully than before, accidentally throwing the blanket off of her in the process and revealing that she had been naked underneath.
“Alice!! Why the hell are you naked?!?! What is wrong with you today?” Josh kept yelling. With a dark, menacing grin forming on her face, she growled at him, “You better let this happen. We don’t want her to find herself in a compromising situation, do we?” “Wendy…,” Josh gasped, the words getting stuck in his throat. His mind was sent on a rollercoaster, desperately struggling for a solution on how to get out of this situation. But deep down, Josh knew he had nothing against her powers.
Completely dejected, Josh finally resigned himself to his fate. “Alice”, on the other hand, squealed with excitement and, like a child ripping open a present on christmas, frantically tried to get her brother’s dick out of his pants. When she finally freed it from its denim prison, his rigid member sprung out with the energy of a coil spring. She then swung one of her smooth legs over her brother and placed herself squarely on top of him.
Without any further hesitation, “Alice” slowly lowered her unclad, nubile form towards her brother’s penis. His bulbous head at first just barely kissed her velvety folds, but then gently parted them, and finally, by completely piercing her labia, desecrated that holy bond between brother and sister.
“Wendy, we have to stop this! We’re not wearing any protection!” Josh tried to protest one last time. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure this little slut is on birth control” “Alice” hissed. She was straining to force herself down her brother’s girth. “Hhnnnnnghhhoooohhhh my god she is so tight” she said panting. “She must still be a virgin. Well, not anymore, hehe.” Her small, hairless lips formed a tight seal around his thick shaft. To keep going further, she arched her back and angled her hips for maximum penetration.
When she finally bottomed out, “Alice” grabbed Josh’s head and started giving him a deep passionate kiss. Her long, brown hair draped over them, curtailing the world from seeing the forbidden intimacy they were sharing. While they kept kissing, “Alice” started to moan into his mouth, as she began slowly working her way up and down her brother’s shaft. The more their friction and passion increased, the more she ruffled his hair, her hands’ movements becoming more and more frantic.
Meanwhile, Josh moved his hands down his sister’s bare back and glid them first along her waist, then her hips, and finally around the sensual curve of her butt. He gave her firm cheeks a strong squeeze, while at the same time supporting her petite body with his manly hands. At last, he finally gave in to his new-found, forbidden desires and started humping his sister in sync with the rhythm of her movements.
Getting wetter by the second, “Alice’s” juices by now provided enough lubrication for her to easily glide along her brother’s member. She broke off their kiss, sat upgright, and began to drastically increase her speed. As she was bouncing up and down on Josh’s dick, her perky tits kept jiggling wildy about. To aleviate that, she took her brother’s hands and firmly placed them on top of her shapley breasts. He eagerly accepted her offer and began digging his fingers deeply into the tender flesh of his sister’s swollen boobs, ferociously groping and squeezing them like a man who lost all his inhibitions.
Greed seemed to overtake Josh, as he followed his sister’s lead by sitting upright and then tightly embracing her lithe body while she kept viciously riding his cock. Hungrily, he placed his mouth on her delicious breasts and began sucking and licking and biting her nipples, practically devouring her boobs and almost swallowing them whole. His sister rewarded him by giving off a series of high-pitched moans and clamping down on his dick.
“Wendy …,” Josh gasped short of breath and inbetween sucking his sister’s nipples. “What is it, bro?” Alice moaned. “I don’t… I don’t think I can hold it any lo—” was the last thing Josh managed to say before he finally errupted inside his sister like a volcano, spraying his creamy spunk all over his her insides. Feeling her brother’s hot goo coating her inner walls set off “Alice’s” own orgasm, making her join him in his extacy. Her body, which was glistening from all the excertion, began shaking from top to bottom as if a current of electricity ran through her.
When the tension suddenly left her body, “Alice” collapsed on top of her brother. Completely drained, she nestled her head against his chest, breathing heavily and with strands of her sweat-drenched hair sticking to her face. “I love you, Josh,” “Alice” whispered sweetly. “I love you, too,” he sighed unconvincingly. His dick was still inside deep his sister, refusing to go limp.
--------------------------------------------------------
For the past month there had been a large shadow hanging over their household. Wendy’s shenanigans had sowed mistrust and uneasiness among the members of her family. It all came to a head when Alice finally confronted her brother. “Josh, I’m begging you: please tell me the truth!” Alice pleaded. “What’s going on? Why have you been avoiding me? You don’t even look me in the eyes anymore.” “I said, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Josh hissed without even facing her. His eyes were red and on the verge of tears.
Gilbert and Christine heard their children argue, so they went to investigate. “What’s going with the two of you? Why are you making so much noise?” Gilbert said as he stepped into the room. “Josh, has been avoiding me for weeks now and he won’t tell me what his problem is,” Alice said unnerved. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that, too. Care to explain yourself, son?” Gilbert asked.
Josh tried to block off their barrage of questions, but, after being relentlessly corned by three people, he eventually broke down in tears and confessed how Wendy had taken control of Alice and forced himself onto her, and how he had been unable to resist. The entire room fell silent. Alice’s stomach turned, sickening her to her core. Gilbert was simply stunned, the news leaving his mind completely blank.
Christine, on the other hand, felt an uncontrollable rage explode inside of her. “That’s it!” she yelled with tears of anger in her eyes. “This is way over the line! I’m so sick and tired of her shit. This has to end now!” “Wait! Where are you going?” Gilbert said to the afterimage of his wife as she had already rushed out of the room. The rest of them slowly began to follow her, one after the other, still trying to process the information they had just received.
An absolutely livid Christine stomped furiously down the hallway and violently barged into her daughter’s room, almost knocking the door out of its hinges. There, Wendy laid on her bed and, like so often, just slept. Without waiting for her to wake up, Christine swiftly approached her sleeping daughter, wrapped her hands around her throat, and began strangling her with all her might. Wendy did not seem to make any signs of struggling against her mother’s assault.
“How could you do that?” Christine sobbed uncontrollably as rivers of tears streamed down her face. “I loved you with all my heart. Why did you become such a hateful peson? Where did I go wrong?” she said gritting her teeth. “This is the only way I can make things right!”
Gilbert and Josh were aghast when they stepped into the room and discovered what Christine was doing. Yet, neither of them intervened and tried to stop her. They just stood there and watched.
When everything was over, everybody went quiet again, except for Christine who was unable to stop her tears. Suddenly, Alice, who everyone seemed to have forgotten about, stepped into the room. They all looked at her in disbelief as they watched a creepy, sinister smile form on her pretty face. “No!” Christine whispered. “Actually, yes, mother,” “Alice” countered. “I’m not so easy to get rid of, you see.” “No!” Christine repeated, this time more emphatically. “And from now on, you will all do exactly as I tell you or the police might get an anonymous tip about what has happened to your dearest daughter. Remember this for the rest of you lives: you got blood on your hands, literally, and I won’t hesistate to take any one of you down!” “Alice” said menacingly. It finally dawned on Christine, Gilbert, and Josh that there was no way of escaping Wendy and that they had to resign themselves to the fact that their lives were now fully under her control, essentially making them her personal slaves.
Meanwhile, “Alice”, who was relishing in the power she had over her family, sauntered over towards her father and lifted the front of her skirt, exposing “her” panty-clad pussy. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, Daddy,” she whispered with lust dripping in her voice. Both of her small, feminine hands then reached out and grabbed one of her father’s big, manly hands and slowly guided it underneath her skirt and panties and gently placed it onto her already sopping wet pussy. Gilbert was too stunned to stop her, and even if he had not been, he would not have dared to go against her.
Suddenly, both Alice and Gilbert shuddered simultaneously. “We sure will, princess,” “Gilbert” said with a lecherous expression on his face. “He” then slipped a finger inside “his” daughter’s smooth folds and began aggressively fingering her hole. The real Alice was dazed and confused when she finally came to again. “D–Dad?” she stammared. “W–What’s going o–o–oooohhhhnnggg?!” she moaned, being overwhelmed by an unexpected orgasm as her “father” quickly sent her over the edge.
Christine was horrified as she watched her husband molest their daughter in front of her eyes. Unfortunately, she was unable to do anything about it as a shiver ran down her spine and the same spell that had taken over her husband and daughter was now taking hold of her. “And let’s not neglect these two here,” “Christine” said while firmly squeezing “her” boobs against each other. “She” then climbed onto Wendy’s bed on all fours, pulled up her dress and her panties to the side, and openly offered up “her own” snatch. “Josh, be a good son and come over here and show Mommy how much my boy has grown up?”
At last it was Josh’s turn. Before he could really process the actions unfolding in front of him, he was no longer in control of his body. “Don’t mind if I do!” “Josh” replied eagerly. As fast as lightning “he” walked over to his mother, dropped his pants, and slammed his rock-hard errection into her sloppy slit. Christine, now back in control of her body, was overwhelmed with the pleasurable sensation of her son’s girthy member ramming in and out of her. When she felt her son mauling her big tits from behind, she went completely limp in his arms, as the last of her will left her while “her son” kept hammering her hole. Eventually, they both climaxed at the same time and Christine felt her son’s hot fluids spread throughout her inside.
--------------------------------------------------------
That same night it was raining cats and dogs. Gilbert and Josh, equipped with spades, dug a hole in their backyard to dispose of Wendy’s corpse while Christine and “Alice” watched from the kitchen window.
The four of them would spend the rest of their lives living in fear and terror, as Wendy forced them to live out all of her depraved sex fantasies between sister and brother, father and daughter, mother and son, mother and daugher, and even between father and son.
Eventually, when the last of her family members had passed on, Wendy continued to live on as a formless presence, taking over other people, until the end of time.
possession
+4 more
1
7.4K
799
2
0
A father and his daughter rekindle their relationship.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
mind control
+1 more
1
3.5K
120
1
0
Two nerds get revenge on their bullies by taking over their bodies with mind control powers.
“What the fuck is this supposed to be, you little shits?!” an angry female voice hissed. Milo’s and Rayleigh’s day was about to get worse as they got pushed hard against the metal doors of their lockers. The two 18 year old high school seniors had hoped that their final school year might see an uptick to their popularity, but the two scrawny nerds still had trouble getting along with anyone besides each other. They had an especially troubling “relationship” with two of their classmates: Jenna and Bianca.
They, in stark contrast to Milo and Rayleigh, were two of the most popular girls in the school. And of course, they were as beautiful as they were popular. The reason for their popularity, besides their superb looks, was that they were the star athletes of their high school, which not only gave them amazing physiques but also incredible strength. At least so it seemed to Milo and Rayleigh, as they stood no chance against them with their thin arms. And even if they would defend themselves, the jocks would just kick their asses in retaliation, making this a lose-lose situation for them. Although both of the girls were only a little taller than the boys, it still felt to Milo and Rayleigh as if they were towering over them. They had been using that fact for years to bully and abuse Milo and Rayleigh.
But this side of their personalities was only known to Milo and Rayleigh. Jenna and Bianca used their good looks to hide behind a facade. You see, they were not just intimidating. They were also intimidatingly beautiful. For everyone else they put on an act, pretending to be these sweet, innocent girls, who you could not help but be smitten by. But in reality they were conniving and cruel clout-chasers, always trying to be on top of everyone else, while simultaneously pretending to be humble.
Jenna was a tall caucasian girl with piercing blue eyes. Her fair complexion was contrasted by her long, dark brown hair. Her overall slender and well-trained physique was crowned with large, perky breasts. Despite her ample blessings, she was a formidable gymnast, which made her body incredibly flexible.
Next to her stood her best friend and partner in crime: Bianca. She was in every way Jenna’s complement. As an African-American she, of course, had dark skin, which made Jenna sometimes look almost ghostly pale by comparison. Unlike Jenna, who wore her hair straight, Bianca had curly black hair that she would usually tame by putting it in a ponytail, just as she was doing now. And even though Bianca was not as well-endowed as the top-heavy Jenna, she made up for it with a big butt and her strong thighs, which came in handy, as she was part of the school’s soccer team, where she scored goal after goal for her team, leading them to an easy victory almost every game.
While Jenna was more dominant and hands-on when it was time to bully their victims, Bianca was still no less intimidating in her supporting role. Just a look from her could send shivers down your spine.
“This is gonna tank my GPA! You better make up for this on the next assignment or else you gonna pay for this!” Jenna threatened. Milo and Rayleigh had been quite busy lately, which was the reason why they had not been able to properly do Jenna’s and Bianca’s homework. The girls had forced them to do their assignment for them since middle school. The two boys were left standing there in fear, as the two beauties walked off and into the arms of their jock boyfriends. Despite their height, both girls had to stand on their toes to reach their boyfriends’ lips.
“Are these twerps bothering you?” one of the jocks asked pointing to Milo and Rayleigh. “No, not at all. They’re just helping us out with our homework. Be nice to them, pleeease?” Jenna said as she smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. Towards their boyfriends they acted all sweet, but as soon as they turned their heads, Jenna and Bianca stared daggers at Milo and Rayleigh. Then they pulled their boyfriends away and left.
“Fuck this!” Milo said while kicking his locker in frustration. “Aren’t we supposed to be stronger than them? Aren’t we supposed to be men? I mean, look at us. For how long is that supposed to go on?”
“I know dude!” Rayleigh agreed. “If only we could make them pay for all the things they’ve done to us. I for sure would love to rub it in their phony faces while they can only stand there and do nothing about it.”
Their curses were interrupted by the bell ringing. “Anyway,” Rayleigh said, “let’s go to class. We don’t wanna be late. It’s enough that Jenna and Bianca are kicking our asses. There is no need for the teacher to join in.”
______________________________
After another long and tiring day at school, Rayleigh threw his backpack onto his bed in frustration, when he heard his mother shout, “Rayleigh!” “What?!” Rayleigh shouted back. “Come down here at once!” He defiantly dragged his feet down the stairs as he knew he would get an ear full from his mother, which he was in no mood for, since he had already been put down by two women just this morning.
“How often have I told you to put your dirty dishes in the dish washer?” his mother scolded him. “Yes, mooom …”, he sighed in frustration. “I don’t ask you to do much around the house. You should be able to do at least this much work.” In his mind Rayleigh snapped back, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just shut up and put away the dirty dishes yourself?” Suddenly his mother, as if a jolt shot through her body, jerked into a perfectly upright position and then started wordlessly putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer.
Rayleigh just watched her silently, not understanding what was happening. When she was done he mumbled, “thanks, I guess …,” and quickly walked away, as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. His mother was too confused about what had just happend that she let her son take off without another word.
Rayleigh turned around a corner and then stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What the hell just happened?” Rayleigh thought. “Could it be …? There is no way … But it couldn’t be just a coincidence! I’ve got to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.” He peeked around the corner and back into the kitchen. His mother was still there, cleaning up some stuff with her back turned towards him. “Stop what you’re doing and stand on one leg,” he commanded in his mind. Immediately his mother stopped what she was doing and started balancing on one leg. “What am I doing?” was all she could mutter in confusion. “Show four fingers behind your back. No two!” His mother quickly shot her arm behind her back and raised four of her fingers, then immediately put down two of them. “Why am I doing this?” his mother wondered aloud.
“No shot, is this for real? I wonder how far I can take this.” Rayleigh thought almost audibly. Then he gave his mother another command. “Mom, turn around and stand still. When I walk back into the kitchen you will neither see nor hear me. I will be totally invisible to you.” His mother turned around as commanded and stood stiff like a statue. Rayleigh took this as his sign to walk back into the kitchen. He stood in front of her and waved his hand an inch from her face, but she did not react at all. In fact, she didn’t even blink. “Wow, this is so cool,” he said with amazement.
Then a strange idea popped into his mind. “Mom, I want your mind to be completely blank, like if you were hypnotized.” With that his mother’s posture became less rigid and the expression on her face became vacant. “Now, when I snap my fingers I want you to become as aroused as you’ve never have been before in you life.” Rayleigh paused for a moment, just to build some anticipation and tension for himself, and then—snap!
From one moment to the next his mother turned from a blank canvas into a depraved animal. Her face contorted with pleasure and her nipples stiffened, visibly poking through the fabric of her shirt. Then she started moaning deeply and pressed her thighs together. “Oh my god! Oooohhh!” she roared.
While he watched his mother being ravaged by ecstasy, glee started spreading on Rayleigh’s face as he felt a feeling of power flooding his body and mind. “Stop!” he exlaimed—and so she did. “When I leave the kitchen you will be back to your normal self and forget everything that happened since you called me downstairs.” He walked out and stopped right around the corner, just as before, so he could watch what was about to unfold next.
“What happened? Where did the dirty dishes go?” Rayleigh’s mother said startled with confusion. To her it felt as if she had experienced a jump cut in real life. One second she was about to call her son down to put away the dishes, the next they seemed to have vanished. On top of that her legs felt wobly. She put a hand to her forhead and feelt some of the residual heat from her indecent acts just moments prior. “I think I don’t feel so good. Maybe I need to lie down.”
As she moved to leave the kitchen, Rayleigh quietly fled up the stairs and back into his bedroom before his mother could discover him, and maybe suspect something. Inside his room he pressed one ear against the door to listen for his mother’s footsteps. After she had safely passed by his room, he quietly cracked open the door a tiny bit and peeked outside. He just barely caught his mother entering his parent’s bedroom and closing the door behind her.
“Wow! This is amazing! I have mind control powers!” Rayleigh could not help but say aloud. “All the things that I’ll be able to do now! Wait, what can I do? Maybe I should try this out some more. I need to figure out what I can and what I can’t do. I guess I need to draw up some kind of plan with stuff that I wanna try out. But who to test this on?” He thought for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. “Damn! Too bad no one else is around, who I could use as a guinea pig. And I don’t wanna wait around ’til tomorrow. This stuff is too good to pass on. I guess mom will have to do.”
Rayleigh was giddy with excitement. He could not hold back and wanted to go all out immediately. He wondered if was able to have ultimate control over someone else: to project his mind onto them. For that he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated really hard. He imagined his mind streaming towards his mother in her bedroom. Then he felt a pull and his entire being seemed to shoot forward at great speed. This feeling stopped as quickly as it began, as he seemed to halt abruptly.
When Rayleigh opened his eyes, he at first felt a little disoriented. After blinking a few times his vision came back in focus and he could see two big lumps protruding in front of him. He cautiously prodded one with his fingers, which confirmed to him that they were real. He gave both of them an appreciative squeeze.
“Oh my! What is going on?” he could hear his mother’s voice say in his head. This surprised him and snapped him back into reality. As he looked up and around he saw that he was in his parent’s bedroom, sitting on their bed. But besides him there was no one there.
Rayeleigh looked down again to take a closer look at his stolen body. His hands now looked more feminine but also older and a bit wrinkly. He roamed them all over his new proportions. Every inch of it screamed that he was not a scrawny nerd boy anymore, but a full-bodied woman. “Stop it, me! What are you doing?” his mother’s voice pleaded as she seemed unable to control her own hands. But her son ignored her. He enjoyed this feeling of power way too much.
After satisfying his immediate curiosity, he got up and walked towards his mother’s full-length mirror. With every step he could feel the jiggling of the new weight on his chest and around his hips. When he reached the mirror and finally got a full view of himself, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Instead of seeing himself he saw his mother with her mouth wide open and an expression of shock on her face.
“I can’t believe this worked! This is so rad!” Rayleigh whispered in his mother’s voice. He rubbed his stolen hands all over his mother’s face, as if to make sure that he was not wearing a mask that was to come off any second. Then he twisted her body to inspect her plump rear in the mirror. This contorted pose in a weird way made his mother look like a girl posing for her Instagram feed. “Dammit! What is happening? Why can’t I control my own body!” his mother’s voice cried in desperation.
Rayleigh then resumed a more upright posture and started lightly brushing down his mother’s body, as if to remove some creases in her outfit and make her look more prim and proper. Then, without a warning, he launched into a tirade. Anger and scorn now clouded his mother’s otherwise soft features. He pointed her index finger in the air and wagged it wildly.
“Rayleigh, didn’t I tell you to clean your room! Rayleigh, why isn’t your laundry done, yet? Rayleigh, clean the kitchen! Rayleigh, do this! Rayleigh, do that! Rayleigh, how often have I told you? Rayleigh, I forbid you!” His scolding of himself seemed to go on forever when, suddenly, his little role-playing made Rayleigh explode with laughter, which caused his mother’s boobs to shake according to its rhythm.
“As much as I enjoy this,” Rayleigh thought to himself while wiping away a tear of joy, “I think I better leave. I don’t want to torture mom too much.” With that he closed his eyes and concentrated again. He again felt the same pull and the same acceleration as earlier. When he snapped back into his own body on his own bed, a sinister grin formed on his face. “This is going to be good!”
______________________________
Milo was walking through the school’s hallways alone. He was on his way back to class from his trip to the bathroom. Somehow he had not seen Rayleigh all day long. He would not even reply to his text messages.
Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. The surprise left him no time to brace himself for the impact as he hit the floor hard. His elbow was bruised and a little bit of blood ran down his nose. He groaned in pain as he turned on his back trying to get up. But then he discovered the reason for his fall: Jenna and Bianca were standing over him, towering, casting their tall shadows on him. Their legs looked like giant marble pillars. For Milo, their height difference now seemed insurmountable from all the way down there. But this perspective also allowed him to almost see up their skirts. Did he catch a glint of their underwear?
“What did I tell you, you little scum?” Jenna angrily spat at him. “This assignment was even worse than the last one,” she said in a threatening tone. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you don’t wanna listen, you’re gonna have to feel … pain, that is!”
And with that, Jenna lifted her leg and slammed her foot down on Milo’s scrotum with full force. He winced in agony. But even through all his pain and humiliation, he somehow still felt a tingle of arousal building inbetween his legs. His member began to stiffen.
Jenna felt Milo’s hardness growing underneath her sneaker. “Oh my god! Is this turning you on?” Jenna laughed with disgust. “Ew, what a pervert!” Bianca chimed in. Jenna kept her foot on his genitalia, pressing further down to rub in the pain. “Yeah, you like that? Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?”
With anger, Jenna kept repeatedly stepping on his groin. As he groaned, the feelings inside Milo kept rising and rising, growing ever more intense. Then suddenly, a large stain formed on his pants, as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to ejaculate and a moan to escape his lips. When she realized what had happened, Jenna said, “Ew, now you’ve even ruined my shoes,” and began wiping them on his shirt.
Suddenly they were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Quickly, as the crowds were pouring into the hallways, Jenna pulled Milo to his feet. Then, to make sure that everyone could hear her, Jenna said loudly, “I think you’re really nice, Milo, and an awesome person. Thank you for confessing your feelings for me, but unfortunately, I can’t reciprocate them. You see, I already have a boyfriend. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Then Jenna smiled at him and gave him a big hug in front of everybody. To everyone else this looked like one of her sweet acts of kindness. But, what no one but Milo could hear, was what she whispered in his ear. “Don’t think you’re done here. This is far from over.”
As Jenna released Milo from her hug, the huge stain on his pants became visible to everyone around them. The students in the crowd started giggling and laughing, one after the other. Some of them even pointed their fingers at him. “Did he wet himself?” someone shouted. “What a loser!” “Guys, don’t be mean to him!” Jenna said to the crowd, pretending to defend him. “This can happen to anyone. It’s a little accident, nothing to be ashamed of!” Her boyfriend, who had wittnesed everything, walked up to them and said, “Jenna, you’re way too nice to him. Don’t go near that loser or his dorkiness will rub off on you.” “I’m sorry, Milo. I have to go. See you next time,” Jenna said as her boyfriend pulled her away, with Bianca following suit.
Milo could not hold it in any longer. Tears of hurt and humiliation started to stream down his face uncontrollably. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed for never standing up to his bullies, but most of all, ashamed for getting aroused by his humiliation. Milo started to run away, trying to escape everyone’s looks. He just wanted to hide forever, somewhere where no one could find him, so that he would never have to show his face in public again.
On his way out of the school he ran past Rayleigh. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh tried to greet him, but Milo didn’t seem to hear him and just kept running. “What’s going on?” Rayleigh called after him.
______________________________
Milo was lying on his bed, crying. Today had been just too much. He thought about running away and leaving everything behind when someone knocked on his door. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh said, “it’s me, open up!” “What do you want?” “I heard about what happened and I wanna see if you’re okay. Come on, let me in!”
Milo slowly got up and unlocked his door. He wiped away his tears and said, “Man, where were you this morning, I could have used some help!” “I’m sorry,” Rayleigh said, “but I couldn’t help it. Something important came up.” “Yeah? How important could it be?” “Very important! Actually, very important to you, too. And it’s just the thing to help you—us—out of our current situation. I know a way how we can get revenge on those two bitches.” “Yeah? How?” “I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me, but … I’ve just found out that I got mind control powers.”
“Oh shut up!” Milo said not believing a single word. “You know, if you didn’t wanna help you didn’t have to come over. But making fun of me is just mean!” he said. “No, I swear! It’s actually real!” Rayleigh tried to counter. “Here, let me show you.”
Suddenly, Milo stuck his hands to his sides and started flapping his arms like a bird. Then he started strutting around the room, cocking his head back and forth with every step. Next, his torso jerked forward and he started bumping his nose into the ground. As a final flourish he even started clucking like chicken. “Ahahaha! Man, you look so ridiculous. If you could see yourself!” Rayleigh said with laughter. After about a minute of that, Rayleigh released his grip over his friend.
Finally operating under his own free will again, Milo said with some fear in his voice, “Ok, ok. I guess you weren’t lying after all. This power is incredible, … but also frightening. What else can you do?” A mischievous grin spread across Rayleigh’s face. “I can do this.” And all of a sudden, Milo felt himself being catapulted out of his body and rapidly flinging off into nowhere.
When he opened his eyes again, Milo found himself inside his sister’s room. She was two years older than him and a college student. Currently she was staying over during her semester break. Milo wondered what had happened and how he got here. But his thoughts were interrupted by his sister saying, “What the hell? Why can’t I move” He could not seem to locate where his sister’s voice came from. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. On top of that, he noticed that he was unable to move, as well. Panic started to set in.
Then, without his command, his head started turning and looked around his sister’s room until his eyes abruptly stopped as they had fixated on her mirror. Again, without him doing anything, his body just got up all on its own and started walking directly across the room. With every step he felt something heavy bouncing on his chest.
When he finally arrived in front of the mirror he almost fainted from what he discovered: instead of his own reflection he saw his sister’s. Even worse, he realized, he was trapped inside her body!
“What is going on?” he heard his sister’s voice say in fear. But the strangest thing was, even though she said that, her lips had not moved at all. Instead, now her mouth said, “Oh, wow! Look at you!”. And with that his eyes started scanning his sister’s body from head to toe multiple times until they finally stopped and rested on her chest.
Then his head automatically swiveled down. One of his hands was pulling his shirt forward and he was forced took a peek at his sister’s generous cleavage. Then his hands reached up and gently squeezed the ample mounds protruding from his chest. Looking up again he had to stand there and, against his will, watch his sister grope her own breasts while she had a lecherous expression plastered across her face. Then, without a warning, she flung off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts.
“Eeeeehh! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Milo’s sister cried inside his head. “I guess this is enough of a show for today,” his sister’s body said while giving her own butt a little squeeze. “See you soon!” she added with a wink of an eye. And with that, Milo felt the same pull and acceleration as before.
Back in his own body, Milo was breathing heavily. When he started to catch his breath, he looked over to Rayleigh who asked him with a smile on his face, “So? What do you think?” “What the fuck!” Milo yelled as he punched Rayleigh “Hey, calm down, calm down,” Rayleigh said, “I was just playing around.” “This wasn’t fun! I could hear her voice! She didn’t like even one second of it, and neither did I. How am I gonna explain this to her?” Milo freaked out. “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh tried to pacify him, “I made sure to make her forget everything that happened. She won’t remember a thing.”
Rayleigh went on to explain every little detail of how he discovered his powers, what he was able to do, and the plan he had worked out to get back at Jenna and Bianca using his mind control powers. As it turned out, this was the reason why he had been missing from school this morning. “Trust me, this is going to be awesome!” Rayleigh finished. “I don’t know,” Milo said reluctantly, “I’m not so sure.”
______________________________
“And when I thought that wimp couldn’t get any more pathetic, he actually went ahead and creamed his pants! Hahaha, what a disgusting loser!” Bianca laughed hard. She and Jenna gloated at their victim’s humiliation as they were having a sleepover at Jenna’s place. They were already wearing their pajamas as they were about to go to bed. “I know,” Jenna added. “But I think I’m gonna throw away my shoes. I don’t want this pervert’s gunk anywhere near me. Too bad, I actually really liked those shoes. Welp, I’ll just gonna have to make daddy buy me a new pair. But not before I make that puny nerd pay!”
As their laughter at the misery of others slowly started to die down, Jenna noticed something bizarre. Bianca’s smile, which just a moment ago had been full of glee, was now turning sinister. “Why are you making that face?” she wanted to ask, but somehow those words never left her lips. “Wait! Why can’t I say anything? And why is Bianca smiling? Helloooo? Bianca, help!” Jenna tried to communicate to her friend, but it was in vain.
“Aaaand, we’re in!” Bianca said. “I’m still not so sure about this,” Jenna heard her own voice say. “Relax,” Bianca retorted, “just try to enjoy this. You’ll see. Before you’ll notice, you’ll come to like it. Trust me.” Then, Bianca started patting down her own breasts and took a peek inside her shirt. “Oooh, look what we have here. What a shame. Unfortunately they’re not as big as the ones I had before. And they are certainly not as big as your current ones!” Bianca said while pointing with her eyes at Jenna’s chest.
Jenna watched her head look down in response. Her enormous mounds took up almost her entire field of view. Her petite hands reached up to cup and weigh them. “They’re heavy!” her voice said. Her fingers then tried to clench into fists, but they were hindered by the soft tissue that was now compressed almost painfully. A small moan escaped her mouth. “They’re sensitive, too!” “Whoever or whatever is doing this to me, stop it immediately or you’re gonna regret this! You’re making me look like pervert,” Jenna tried to threaten the intruder inside her own head. “Bianca! Do something! Help me!”
Meanwhile in Bianca’s head, the situation did not look any better. “Jenna, stop squeezing your boobs and help me out. My body is acting weird,” Bianca’s inner voice said as she was forced to perv on her friend groping herself. “Why aren’t you answering me! Helloooo? Can you hear me?” “Sorry, Bianca, but Jenna won’t hear you”, Bianca heard her own mouth say. “You see, you’re not in control anymore. Not of others, and certainly not of yourself.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This is a sweet little thing called ‘revenge.’ Revenge for all the evil things you’ve done!” Bianca heard herself say. “I never did anything!” “Are you sure? ’cause there are two boys in your class who would beg to differ” “What? You mean those losers? Whatever we did, they deserved it!” “We didn’t deserve nothing! But you deserve everything that’s coming to you. You controlled our lives for the last few years, and now we’re going to control your bodies, until you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“So we’re being controlled? Then who is inside my body!” Jenna asked. “T-T-This is Milo,” he said, making her voice sound uncharacteristically timid. “Aaaww, hello no! My body is being controlled by this disgusting freak? Things just can’t get any worse! Now, listen here you little bitch, you get out of my body this instant or you’ll wish I was back to crushing your junk!” “Ray,” Milo said in Jenna’s voice, “I think she’s relly pissed now. Maybe we should reconsider this.” “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh said using Bianca’s body, “we’re in full control. Those are just empty threats.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “let’s gather a little–what do you girls call it in your profession?—ah yes: blackmail! I’m sure, soon you two little birds will be singing a different tune, as soon as you realize that your reputation is at stake.”
In the meantime Milo tried to get acquainted with navigating his new body. When he tried to stand up, he at first had trouble sorting out his balance, since he did not have enough time yet to get used to his new center of gravity. He almost fell over, but was able to catch to himself in time by placing his hands on the ground. If someone had walked in on them in this moment, they would have thought that Jenna was trying to immitate some four-legged animal. Both her hands and feet were firmly planted on the ground and with her legs entirely straight, her butt proudly pointed towards the ceiling.
“Wow. Her body is really flexible.” Milo said with amazement. “Look, I can touch my toes!” “That’s because she’s a gymnast,” Rayleigh reminded him. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Mmmmhhh … I wonder if can …” With that, Milo stood back upright and then slowly started bending over backwards. “Haha, look at me. I’m like some girl from a horror movie,” he said laughing in Jenna’s voice while contorting her body into all sorts of strange shapes.
Next, he wanted to try doing splits. For that he stood back up again and then slowly slid his legs apart, one forward, one backward. As his step increased and increased, his pelvis automatically inched closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he plopped down on the floor with the full lengths of Jenna’s legs touching the ground. “Amazing, this doesn’t even hurt. Not one bit!”
“So, ‘Jenna’,” Rayleigh interrupted his antics with a wink, “why don’t you show us what else you can do?” “Ok, I guess, …” Rayleigh then got out Bianca’s phone and started recording, while Milo got up and started fumbling with the buttons on Jenna’s pajamas. “Uh, sorry …, this might take a while,” Milo said blushing with nervousness. With the way the red was highlighted by her pale skin and how her blue eyes flitted around nervously, Milo made Jenna almost look like an innocent school girl right before her first recital.
“Finally!” Milo whispered as he managed to open the last button. The opening of Jenna’s now-unbuttoned shirt provided a small window revealing both the creamy skin of her taut belly and how her big, teenage breasts gently touched each other even without a bra.
“Wait, what do you plan on doing? You don’t … No! Don’t! Pleeease, stop it! Anything but that!” Jenna cried in her own head, but Milo just ignored her. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Milo started awkwardly moving Jenna’s hips to an imaginary beat while slowly sliding her shirt off her dainty shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms, and finally letting it drop to the ground.
There they were: the biggest—and first—pair of boobs the two boys had ever seen in real life. Jenna’s boobs. They were marvellous, full and perky. They looked like ripe fruit garnished by two rosy nipples. The rough movements of Jenna’s hips made them bounce up and down, hypnotizing anyone who dared to gaze upon them.
At the same time, Milo made all sorts of awkward expressions with Jenna’s face, trying desperately to make her look sexy. He even ruffled up Jenna’s hair to make her look more raunchy, but instead it looked like a mess and only added to his overall inept performance. “L-look at me, I’m J-jenna,” he said unconvincingly, “I might act all innocent around everyone else, but … um … in truth I’m a total slut.” “Nooooo! Stop it!” Jenna pleaded in desperation. “You make me look like such a loser!”
“Haha, what are you doing?” Rayleigh laughed. “You look like a total dork. Loosen up. You’re way too stiff! Here, you hold the camera. I’ll show you how it’s done!” Rayleigh said. He got up, handed Milo the phone, and then took his place.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I promise!” Bianca pleaded meekly. “Ha, fat chance!” Rayleigh said internally. “You had plenty of chance to stop over the years, but you just continued on. Now it’s payback time, baby.” His confidence all fired up, he started dancing with much more bravado than Milo had shown before him.
Next, he flung off Bianca’s shirt in one swift motion, presenting her rather modest chest. “Well,” he said mockingly, “I think we all know that ‘my’ strengths have always laid elsewhere, don’t we?” With that he faced away from the camera and started wiggling Bianca’s enormous butt, which made her pajama pants slowly slide down her hips, revealing inch by inch her big, dark buns.
As soon as Bianca’s pants hit the floor, Rayleigh started slapping her butt, sending ripples through her giant cheeks. “Look at ‘my’ ass!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Then he bent Bianca’s body forward and started twerking as hard he could, providing quite the show for the camera. “Please, no. This is humiliating.” Bianca whimpered. “I’m not like that!”
“See ‘Jenna’? That’s how it’s done. You gotta be proud of what your mama gave you!” Rayleigh said in a mock imitation of Bianca. If she were still in control of her own body, then tears would now start rolling down her face. “Hi, I’m Bianca, the star of the soccer team. When these cheek’s ain’t busy scoring goals, they be clapping for the team.” At this point Rayleigh was reveling in the control he was exerting over his former bullies.
Then, as a final act of humiliation, he strode over to Milo. He took the phone off of him and held it up high, angling it in such a way that both girls were in full view. Next, he put his other hand on the back of Jenna’s head, and then lunged in, kissing his friend deeply.
At first, Milo was caught by surprise. But then, for a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the girl’s soft lips meshing with each other and Jenna’s breast pressing against Bianca’s.
______________________________
“No, no, no, noooo!” Jenna and Bianca cried in unison. “If anyone sees this, we’re done. Pleeeease don’t do this! We beg of you! We regret what we did. We’re deeply sorry. We won’t come near you ever again. We’re also gonna make up for all that we did to you, we swear.”
Their cries snapped Milo out of their sensual entanglement. He broke off the kiss and gently pushed Rayleigh away from himself. “Ray, I think this is enough. They seem to have learned their lesson. Let’s just stop and leave. We probably have enough material to keep them in line.” “But why?” Rayleigh protested. “We’re having so much fun. Come on!” “No, I mean it,” Milo said, asserting himself for the first time in his life. “I also told you that I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. Yeah, I want to get revenge, too, but not like this!”
“Fine,” Rayleigh pouted. “But I think you’ll be changing your mind real soon about this, Jenna,” “What do you mean, Bianca?” Milo said. “And stop calling me ‘Jenna’.” A grin started spreading across Bianca’s face. “Wait, why did I call you ‘Bianca’?” Milo asked. “Because that’s my name, silly,” Rayleigh replied. “I’m Bianca and you’re Jenna.” “No, I'm not Jenna,” Milo exlaimed, “I’m Jenna! Wait … Aargh, stop it!” His heart started beating faster and fear started to settle in. “Are you doing this to me, Bianca?”
Milo felt a jolt run through his stolen body. He suddenly could not move anymore. “Wait, Bianca! Stop it. Please don’t do this!” Milo said, trapped in someone else’s head. He felt Jenna’s lips move all by themselves. “Bianca, I haven’t been honest with you,” Jenna’s body said. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve had a crush on you. I was ashamed of my feelings. You know, a girl liking a girl. I know, we live in more progressive times now. But still, what would people think? Also, I was afraid that you might hate me if I told you how I really felt. I’m still afraid. But, I can’t hide it any longer. Not anymore. Bianca, I love you!”
There was a moment of silece. “Please don’t hate me,” ‘Jenna’ pleaded quietly. “Aaaw, sweety,” Rayleigh said in Bianca’s voice, enjoying the act he made them put on. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. But now we can be more than friends. The truth is, I also liked you from the beginning. I’ve always looked forward to our sleepovers, where it’s just the two of us, all alone. And I’ve always enjoyed the way you smell each time we hugged, and feeling your warm body press against mine. Also, I’ve always secretly peeked at you when we were changing before P.E. and then thought of you when I masturbated at home. I’m just so happy that the truth is out now. Thanks to you I don’t feel ashamed anymore to admit it: I love you, too, Jenna.”
By now, Jenna’s body was a mere puppet, dancing to the pull of her master’s will. It was completely empty, devoid of any free will. Her only purpose now was to act out her role in Rayleigh’s play. Rayleigh used his powers to force tears of happiness to stream down Jenna’s face, which was glowing with joy. Then the two ‘girls’ embraced each other. “Does that mean, I’m your girlfriend now?” ‘Jenna’ asked while trying to wipe away the tears. “Of course it does!” ‘Bianca’ said while gently poking Jenna’s nose with her finger. “Now let me show what real girlfriends do.” “No, Bianca, I don’t want this. Don’t make me do this. This isn’t right,” Milo tried to say, but no one could hear him.
Then Jenna’s and Bianca’s bodies started to slowly and tenderly kiss each other. At first their lips only grazed each other reluctantly, quivering with a little nervousness. But with every soft touch, they grew more and more confident. Soon they were not just kissing anymore, but ravaging each other like animals, their moans muffled by each other’s lips and their hands wildy roaming all over each other’s bodies and through their hair. Milo could not help but feel the arousal of Jenna’s body slowly spill over into his mind.
Rayleigh placed Bianca’s chocolaty hands on Jenna’s enormous, milk-colored breasts while Jenna’s delicate hands explored the vastness of Bianca’s mighty butt. Then they stopped their kissing to give themselves a chance to catch their breath. They intensly stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Bianca’ into Jenna’s baby blue eyes and ‘Jenna’ into Bianca’s dark hazel eyes. A cheeky grin started to spread across each of their faces.
Rayeleigh took Jenna’s hand and led her over to her bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Jenna’s body onto Bianca’s lap. He slowly glid his hands along Jenna’s waist, drinking in her contours. Now on eye-level with her chest, he was completely entranced by her breasts. “Shake ’em for me,” he whispered. Against her will, Jenna’s body started shaking her boobs, causing her hefty orbs to swing from side to side. At the same time, Rayleigh started inching Bianca’s face closer and closer towards Jenna’s chest until he was nestling inbetween her soft globes, surrounded on both sides with warm flesh. Then he lifted up his stolen hands, placed them on either side of her mounds, and began pressing and squeezing them, really rubbing in feeling of their softness and making Jenna moan with pleasure.
After a small pause Rayleigh motioned Jenna’s body to get off and gently, with his hand, guided her head down inbetween his legs. Without an explicit prompt, ‘Jenna’ started softly kissing Bianca’s waiting slit. Jenna’s upper lips brushed ever so lightly against Bianca’s lower lips, as if she was teasing her. Then she started to slowly trace the tip of her tongue up and down Bianca’s opening, making it quiver with pleasure. Rayleigh started moaning in Bianca’s sultry voice as arousal welled up inside his stolen body.
‘Jenna’ then entered Bianca with her tongue and started deeply kissing her nether regions and feasting on her sweet juices. The pleasure inside Bianca’s body started rising and rising until, finally, a wave of orgams swept over Bianca’s body. “Oh, gooood!” ‘Bianca’ groaned. ‘Her’ meaty thighs clamped down abruptly on Jenna’s head, trapping her as if she was caught in a vice. The shaking of ‘her’ legs made Jenna’s head vibrate.
Rayleigh started to slowly come down from his high, breaving heavily. Basking in its afterglow, he gently caressed Jenna’s head. “Wooow … That was amaaaaazing!” he exlaimed. “You’ve done well, ‘Jenna’. I think it’s only fair that I repay you. How about a little appetizer?” He then took one of Bianca’s feet and placed it right in front of her face, nudging her lips with her big toe. “I think you like that, don’t you? Yeah, I know you like that.” The tone of Bianca’s voice started to turn domineering.
“Ew, don’t make me do this. This is disgusting!” the real Jenna thought. Milo on the other hand seemed strangely aroused by this. What he didn’t realize was that Rayleigh had weakend his grip on him quite a while ago. He had subconciously been going along with Rayleigh’s act, dutifuly playing his part. Without any further force from Rayleigh he started licking Bianca’s feet, up and down their entire sole and sucking vigorously sucking on her toes.
“Goood,” Rayleigh cooed. “Now get up, slut!” With that Milo bolted upwards and stood erect like a soldier. Then Rayleigh got up off the bed and stood in front of Milo. He reached out with both of Bianca’s hands and squeezed Jenna’s breasts hard, as if he wanted to squeeze juice out of lemons. “Ow!” Milo winced in pain. Jenna’s nipples became stiff with arousal.
Milo was still in turmoil about the morality of all of this, but he could no longer deny that it was exciting him. Then—slap, slap, slap! Jenna’s breasts jiggled widly with each hit that Rayleigh brought down on them. The pain reverberated throughout Jenna’s boobs and fuelled Milo’s rising pleasure as Bianca’s hands left increasingly redder marks on them. Rayleigh then gently rolled Jenna’s nipples inbetween his fingers. And without warning, he suddenly twisted them with a tremendous amount of force, nearly drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from Milo, as an orgasm washed over him that almost made Jenna’s knees buckle under the strain.
Rayleigh then drew a finger across Jenna’s wet slit, which made Milo shudder. He played with a string of Jenna’s juices inbetween his fingers and said, “I see someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” Milo did not dare to speak as his wildest fantasies were coming true right in this moment. All he could muster was a muffled, “mmmmhh,” while he nodded. Both Milo and Rayleigh increasingly enjoyed Rayleigh’s power trip, though for different reasons.
“Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?” Rayleigh said in a threatening tone. “I guess I’ll have to teach you!” With that, he forcefully threw Milo onto Jenna’s bed. He then took a deep breath before Bianca’s hands started raining down pain on Jenna’s ass. The intense spanking caused the heat inside of Milo to flare up again. “Yeees, harder! Harder!” Milo cried.
But before he was able to peak a second time, Rayleigh flipped over Jenna’s body onto her back. Then he grabbed the back of Jenna’s head and this time slammed it down into her own privates. He kept it there with brute force. Even though Jenna’s body was very flexible, this forced position still caused Milo considerable pain. Jenna’s breasts squished uncomfortably into her ribcage and thereby constricted her lungs. “Who told you you could talk back, you little slut?” ‘Bianca’ shouted. “Now, eat up or your mistress is gonna show you what real pain is!”
As commanded, Milo started licking Jenna’s slit, taking in her unfamiliar yet delicious taste. As his tongue explored the depths of his stolen hole, the pleasure in his body kept rising and rising. However, at the same time, his oxygen supply started to run low, as he could hardly breathe in this position. Knowing that he had only a limited amount of time, Milo drasticly increased his fervor in lapping up Jenna’s sweet juices, hoping to free himself before he passed out. In a race between hitting orgasm and suffocation, his stolen lips became slicker and slicker while his vision steadily darkenend.
But finally, in a last ditch effort, he managed to send himself over the edge and hit another orgasm before he could pass out in Jenna’s body. Rayleigh took the shaking of Jenna’s legs as a sign and pulled up her head, making Milo gasp for much needed air. “Goood girl,” Rayleigh commended ‘Jenna’ in a soothing voice while caressing her head. Milo panted heavily. “You we’re right,” he said with a deeply content smile spreading across his stolen face. “This is fun.”
“What the fuck is this supposed to be, you little shits?!” an angry female voice hissed. Milo’s and Rayleigh’s day was about to get worse as they got pushed hard against the metal doors of their lockers. The two 18 year old high school seniors had hoped that their final school year might see an uptick to their popularity, but the two scrawny nerds still had trouble getting along with anyone besides each other. They had an especially troubling “relationship” with two of their classmates: Jenna and Bianca.
They, in stark contrast to Milo and Rayleigh, were two of the most popular girls in the school. And of course, they were as beautiful as they were popular. The reason for their popularity, besides their superb looks, was that they were the star athletes of their high school, which not only gave them amazing physiques but also incredible strength. At least so it seemed to Milo and Rayleigh, as they stood no chance against them with their thin arms. And even if they would defend themselves, the jocks would just kick their asses in retaliation, making this a lose-lose situation for them. Although both of the girls were only a little taller than the boys, it still felt to Milo and Rayleigh as if they were towering over them. They had been using that fact for years to bully and abuse Milo and Rayleigh.
But this side of their personalities was only known to Milo and Rayleigh. Jenna and Bianca used their good looks to hide behind a facade. You see, they were not just intimidating. They were also intimidatingly beautiful. For everyone else they put on an act, pretending to be these sweet, innocent girls, who you could not help but be smitten by. But in reality they were conniving and cruel clout-chasers, always trying to be on top of everyone else, while simultaneously pretending to be humble.
Jenna was a tall caucasian girl with piercing blue eyes. Her fair complexion was contrasted by her long, dark brown hair. Her overall slender and well-trained physique was crowned with large, perky breasts. Despite her ample blessings, she was a formidable gymnast, which made her body incredibly flexible.
Next to her stood her best friend and partner in crime: Bianca. She was in every way Jenna’s complement. As an African-American she, of course, had dark skin, which made Jenna sometimes look almost ghostly pale by comparison. Unlike Jenna, who wore her hair straight, Bianca had curly black hair that she would usually tame by putting it in a ponytail, just as she was doing now. And even though Bianca was not as well-endowed as the top-heavy Jenna, she made up for it with a big butt and her strong thighs, which came in handy, as she was part of the school’s soccer team, where she scored goal after goal for her team, leading them to an easy victory almost every game.
While Jenna was more dominant and hands-on when it was time to bully their victims, Bianca was still no less intimidating in her supporting role. Just a look from her could send shivers down your spine.
“This is gonna tank my GPA! You better make up for this on the next assignment or else you gonna pay for this!” Jenna threatened. Milo and Rayleigh had been quite busy lately, which was the reason why they had not been able to properly do Jenna’s and Bianca’s homework. The girls had forced them to do their assignment for them since middle school. The two boys were left standing there in fear, as the two beauties walked off and into the arms of their jock boyfriends. Despite their height, both girls had to stand on their toes to reach their boyfriends’ lips.
“Are these twerps bothering you?” one of the jocks asked pointing to Milo and Rayleigh. “No, not at all. They’re just helping us out with our homework. Be nice to them, pleeease?” Jenna said as she smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. Towards their boyfriends they acted all sweet, but as soon as they turned their heads, Jenna and Bianca stared daggers at Milo and Rayleigh. Then they pulled their boyfriends away and left.
“Fuck this!” Milo said while kicking his locker in frustration. “Aren’t we supposed to be stronger than them? Aren’t we supposed to be men? I mean, look at us. For how long is that supposed to go on?”
“I know dude!” Rayleigh agreed. “If only we could make them pay for all the things they’ve done to us. I for sure would love to rub it in their phony faces while they can only stand there and do nothing about it.”
Their curses were interrupted by the bell ringing. “Anyway,” Rayleigh said, “let’s go to class. We don’t wanna be late. It’s enough that Jenna and Bianca are kicking our asses. There is no need for the teacher to join in.”
______________________________
After another long and tiring day at school, Rayleigh threw his backpack onto his bed in frustration, when he heard his mother shout, “Rayleigh!” “What?!” Rayleigh shouted back. “Come down here at once!” He defiantly dragged his feet down the stairs as he knew he would get an ear full from his mother, which he was in no mood for, since he had already been put down by two women just this morning.
“How often have I told you to put your dirty dishes in the dish washer?” his mother scolded him. “Yes, mooom …”, he sighed in frustration. “I don’t ask you to do much around the house. You should be able to do at least this much work.” In his mind Rayleigh snapped back, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just shut up and put away the dirty dishes yourself?” Suddenly his mother, as if a jolt shot through her body, jerked into a perfectly upright position and then started wordlessly putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer.
Rayleigh just watched her silently, not understanding what was happening. When she was done he mumbled, “thanks, I guess …,” and quickly walked away, as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. His mother was too confused about what had just happend that she let her son take off without another word.
Rayleigh turned around a corner and then stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What the hell just happened?” Rayleigh thought. “Could it be …? There is no way … But it couldn’t be just a coincidence! I’ve got to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.” He peeked around the corner and back into the kitchen. His mother was still there, cleaning up some stuff with her back turned towards him. “Stop what you’re doing and stand on one leg,” he commanded in his mind. Immediately his mother stopped what she was doing and started balancing on one leg. “What am I doing?” was all she could mutter in confusion. “Show four fingers behind your back. No two!” His mother quickly shot her arm behind her back and raised four of her fingers, then immediately put down two of them. “Why am I doing this?” his mother wondered aloud.
“No shot, is this for real? I wonder how far I can take this.” Rayleigh thought almost audibly. Then he gave his mother another command. “Mom, turn around and stand still. When I walk back into the kitchen you will neither see nor hear me. I will be totally invisible to you.” His mother turned around as commanded and stood stiff like a statue. Rayleigh took this as his sign to walk back into the kitchen. He stood in front of her and waved his hand an inch from her face, but she did not react at all. In fact, she didn’t even blink. “Wow, this is so cool,” he said with amazement.
Then a strange idea popped into his mind. “Mom, I want your mind to be completely blank, like if you were hypnotized.” With that his mother’s posture became less rigid and the expression on her face became vacant. “Now, when I snap my fingers I want you to become as aroused as you’ve never have been before in you life.” Rayleigh paused for a moment, just to build some anticipation and tension for himself, and then—snap!
From one moment to the next his mother turned from a blank canvas into a depraved animal. Her face contorted with pleasure and her nipples stiffened, visibly poking through the fabric of her shirt. Then she started moaning deeply and pressed her thighs together. “Oh my god! Oooohhh!” she roared.
While he watched his mother being ravaged by ecstasy, glee started spreading on Rayleigh’s face as he felt a feeling of power flooding his body and mind. “Stop!” he exlaimed—and so she did. “When I leave the kitchen you will be back to your normal self and forget everything that happened since you called me downstairs.” He walked out and stopped right around the corner, just as before, so he could watch what was about to unfold next.
“What happened? Where did the dirty dishes go?” Rayleigh’s mother said startled with confusion. To her it felt as if she had experienced a jump cut in real life. One second she was about to call her son down to put away the dishes, the next they seemed to have vanished. On top of that her legs felt wobly. She put a hand to her forhead and feelt some of the residual heat from her indecent acts just moments prior. “I think I don’t feel so good. Maybe I need to lie down.”
As she moved to leave the kitchen, Rayleigh quietly fled up the stairs and back into his bedroom before his mother could discover him, and maybe suspect something. Inside his room he pressed one ear against the door to listen for his mother’s footsteps. After she had safely passed by his room, he quietly cracked open the door a tiny bit and peeked outside. He just barely caught his mother entering his parent’s bedroom and closing the door behind her.
“Wow! This is amazing! I have mind control powers!” Rayleigh could not help but say aloud. “All the things that I’ll be able to do now! Wait, what can I do? Maybe I should try this out some more. I need to figure out what I can and what I can’t do. I guess I need to draw up some kind of plan with stuff that I wanna try out. But who to test this on?” He thought for a few seconds and then snapped his fingers. “Damn! Too bad no one else is around, who I could use as a guinea pig. And I don’t wanna wait around ’til tomorrow. This stuff is too good to pass on. I guess mom will have to do.”
Rayleigh was giddy with excitement. He could not hold back and wanted to go all out immediately. He wondered if was able to have ultimate control over someone else: to project his mind onto them. For that he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated really hard. He imagined his mind streaming towards his mother in her bedroom. Then he felt a pull and his entire being seemed to shoot forward at great speed. This feeling stopped as quickly as it began, as he seemed to halt abruptly.
When Rayleigh opened his eyes, he at first felt a little disoriented. After blinking a few times his vision came back in focus and he could see two big lumps protruding in front of him. He cautiously prodded one with his fingers, which confirmed to him that they were real. He gave both of them an appreciative squeeze.
“Oh my! What is going on?” he could hear his mother’s voice say in his head. This surprised him and snapped him back into reality. As he looked up and around he saw that he was in his parent’s bedroom, sitting on their bed. But besides him there was no one there.
Rayeleigh looked down again to take a closer look at his stolen body. His hands now looked more feminine but also older and a bit wrinkly. He roamed them all over his new proportions. Every inch of it screamed that he was not a scrawny nerd boy anymore, but a full-bodied woman. “Stop it, me! What are you doing?” his mother’s voice pleaded as she seemed unable to control her own hands. But her son ignored her. He enjoyed this feeling of power way too much.
After satisfying his immediate curiosity, he got up and walked towards his mother’s full-length mirror. With every step he could feel the jiggling of the new weight on his chest and around his hips. When he reached the mirror and finally got a full view of himself, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Instead of seeing himself he saw his mother with her mouth wide open and an expression of shock on her face.
“I can’t believe this worked! This is so rad!” Rayleigh whispered in his mother’s voice. He rubbed his stolen hands all over his mother’s face, as if to make sure that he was not wearing a mask that was to come off any second. Then he twisted her body to inspect her plump rear in the mirror. This contorted pose in a weird way made his mother look like a girl posing for her Instagram feed. “Dammit! What is happening? Why can’t I control my own body!” his mother’s voice cried in desperation.
Rayleigh then resumed a more upright posture and started lightly brushing down his mother’s body, as if to remove some creases in her outfit and make her look more prim and proper. Then, without a warning, he launched into a tirade. Anger and scorn now clouded his mother’s otherwise soft features. He pointed her index finger in the air and wagged it wildly.
“Rayleigh, didn’t I tell you to clean your room! Rayleigh, why isn’t your laundry done, yet? Rayleigh, clean the kitchen! Rayleigh, do this! Rayleigh, do that! Rayleigh, how often have I told you? Rayleigh, I forbid you!” His scolding of himself seemed to go on forever when, suddenly, his little role-playing made Rayleigh explode with laughter, which caused his mother’s boobs to shake according to its rhythm.
“As much as I enjoy this,” Rayleigh thought to himself while wiping away a tear of joy, “I think I better leave. I don’t want to torture mom too much.” With that he closed his eyes and concentrated again. He again felt the same pull and the same acceleration as earlier. When he snapped back into his own body on his own bed, a sinister grin formed on his face. “This is going to be good!”
______________________________
Milo was walking through the school’s hallways alone. He was on his way back to class from his trip to the bathroom. Somehow he had not seen Rayleigh all day long. He would not even reply to his text messages.
Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. The surprise left him no time to brace himself for the impact as he hit the floor hard. His elbow was bruised and a little bit of blood ran down his nose. He groaned in pain as he turned on his back trying to get up. But then he discovered the reason for his fall: Jenna and Bianca were standing over him, towering, casting their tall shadows on him. Their legs looked like giant marble pillars. For Milo, their height difference now seemed insurmountable from all the way down there. But this perspective also allowed him to almost see up their skirts. Did he catch a glint of their underwear?
“What did I tell you, you little scum?” Jenna angrily spat at him. “This assignment was even worse than the last one,” she said in a threatening tone. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. If you don’t wanna listen, you’re gonna have to feel … pain, that is!”
And with that, Jenna lifted her leg and slammed her foot down on Milo’s scrotum with full force. He winced in agony. But even through all his pain and humiliation, he somehow still felt a tingle of arousal building inbetween his legs. His member began to stiffen.
Jenna felt Milo’s hardness growing underneath her sneaker. “Oh my god! Is this turning you on?” Jenna laughed with disgust. “Ew, what a pervert!” Bianca chimed in. Jenna kept her foot on his genitalia, pressing further down to rub in the pain. “Yeah, you like that? Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?”
With anger, Jenna kept repeatedly stepping on his groin. As he groaned, the feelings inside Milo kept rising and rising, growing ever more intense. Then suddenly, a large stain formed on his pants, as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused him to ejaculate and a moan to escape his lips. When she realized what had happened, Jenna said, “Ew, now you’ve even ruined my shoes,” and began wiping them on his shirt.
Suddenly they were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Quickly, as the crowds were pouring into the hallways, Jenna pulled Milo to his feet. Then, to make sure that everyone could hear her, Jenna said loudly, “I think you’re really nice, Milo, and an awesome person. Thank you for confessing your feelings for me, but unfortunately, I can’t reciprocate them. You see, I already have a boyfriend. But I hope we can still be friends.”
Then Jenna smiled at him and gave him a big hug in front of everybody. To everyone else this looked like one of her sweet acts of kindness. But, what no one but Milo could hear, was what she whispered in his ear. “Don’t think you’re done here. This is far from over.”
As Jenna released Milo from her hug, the huge stain on his pants became visible to everyone around them. The students in the crowd started giggling and laughing, one after the other. Some of them even pointed their fingers at him. “Did he wet himself?” someone shouted. “What a loser!” “Guys, don’t be mean to him!” Jenna said to the crowd, pretending to defend him. “This can happen to anyone. It’s a little accident, nothing to be ashamed of!” Her boyfriend, who had wittnesed everything, walked up to them and said, “Jenna, you’re way too nice to him. Don’t go near that loser or his dorkiness will rub off on you.” “I’m sorry, Milo. I have to go. See you next time,” Jenna said as her boyfriend pulled her away, with Bianca following suit.
Milo could not hold it in any longer. Tears of hurt and humiliation started to stream down his face uncontrollably. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed for never standing up to his bullies, but most of all, ashamed for getting aroused by his humiliation. Milo started to run away, trying to escape everyone’s looks. He just wanted to hide forever, somewhere where no one could find him, so that he would never have to show his face in public again.
On his way out of the school he ran past Rayleigh. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh tried to greet him, but Milo didn’t seem to hear him and just kept running. “What’s going on?” Rayleigh called after him.
______________________________
Milo was lying on his bed, crying. Today had been just too much. He thought about running away and leaving everything behind when someone knocked on his door. “Hey Milo,” Rayleigh said, “it’s me, open up!” “What do you want?” “I heard about what happened and I wanna see if you’re okay. Come on, let me in!”
Milo slowly got up and unlocked his door. He wiped away his tears and said, “Man, where were you this morning, I could have used some help!” “I’m sorry,” Rayleigh said, “but I couldn’t help it. Something important came up.” “Yeah? How important could it be?” “Very important! Actually, very important to you, too. And it’s just the thing to help you—us—out of our current situation. I know a way how we can get revenge on those two bitches.” “Yeah? How?” “I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me, but … I’ve just found out that I got mind control powers.”
“Oh shut up!” Milo said not believing a single word. “You know, if you didn’t wanna help you didn’t have to come over. But making fun of me is just mean!” he said. “No, I swear! It’s actually real!” Rayleigh tried to counter. “Here, let me show you.”
Suddenly, Milo stuck his hands to his sides and started flapping his arms like a bird. Then he started strutting around the room, cocking his head back and forth with every step. Next, his torso jerked forward and he started bumping his nose into the ground. As a final flourish he even started clucking like chicken. “Ahahaha! Man, you look so ridiculous. If you could see yourself!” Rayleigh said with laughter. After about a minute of that, Rayleigh released his grip over his friend.
Finally operating under his own free will again, Milo said with some fear in his voice, “Ok, ok. I guess you weren’t lying after all. This power is incredible, … but also frightening. What else can you do?” A mischievous grin spread across Rayleigh’s face. “I can do this.” And all of a sudden, Milo felt himself being catapulted out of his body and rapidly flinging off into nowhere.
When he opened his eyes again, Milo found himself inside his sister’s room. She was two years older than him and a college student. Currently she was staying over during her semester break. Milo wondered what had happened and how he got here. But his thoughts were interrupted by his sister saying, “What the hell? Why can’t I move” He could not seem to locate where his sister’s voice came from. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. On top of that, he noticed that he was unable to move, as well. Panic started to set in.
Then, without his command, his head started turning and looked around his sister’s room until his eyes abruptly stopped as they had fixated on her mirror. Again, without him doing anything, his body just got up all on its own and started walking directly across the room. With every step he felt something heavy bouncing on his chest.
When he finally arrived in front of the mirror he almost fainted from what he discovered: instead of his own reflection he saw his sister’s. Even worse, he realized, he was trapped inside her body!
“What is going on?” he heard his sister’s voice say in fear. But the strangest thing was, even though she said that, her lips had not moved at all. Instead, now her mouth said, “Oh, wow! Look at you!”. And with that his eyes started scanning his sister’s body from head to toe multiple times until they finally stopped and rested on her chest.
Then his head automatically swiveled down. One of his hands was pulling his shirt forward and he was forced took a peek at his sister’s generous cleavage. Then his hands reached up and gently squeezed the ample mounds protruding from his chest. Looking up again he had to stand there and, against his will, watch his sister grope her own breasts while she had a lecherous expression plastered across her face. Then, without a warning, she flung off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts.
“Eeeeehh! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Milo’s sister cried inside his head. “I guess this is enough of a show for today,” his sister’s body said while giving her own butt a little squeeze. “See you soon!” she added with a wink of an eye. And with that, Milo felt the same pull and acceleration as before.
Back in his own body, Milo was breathing heavily. When he started to catch his breath, he looked over to Rayleigh who asked him with a smile on his face, “So? What do you think?” “What the fuck!” Milo yelled as he punched Rayleigh “Hey, calm down, calm down,” Rayleigh said, “I was just playing around.” “This wasn’t fun! I could hear her voice! She didn’t like even one second of it, and neither did I. How am I gonna explain this to her?” Milo freaked out. “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh tried to pacify him, “I made sure to make her forget everything that happened. She won’t remember a thing.”
Rayleigh went on to explain every little detail of how he discovered his powers, what he was able to do, and the plan he had worked out to get back at Jenna and Bianca using his mind control powers. As it turned out, this was the reason why he had been missing from school this morning. “Trust me, this is going to be awesome!” Rayleigh finished. “I don’t know,” Milo said reluctantly, “I’m not so sure.”
______________________________
“And when I thought that wimp couldn’t get any more pathetic, he actually went ahead and creamed his pants! Hahaha, what a disgusting loser!” Bianca laughed hard. She and Jenna gloated at their victim’s humiliation as they were having a sleepover at Jenna’s place. They were already wearing their pajamas as they were about to go to bed. “I know,” Jenna added. “But I think I’m gonna throw away my shoes. I don’t want this pervert’s gunk anywhere near me. Too bad, I actually really liked those shoes. Welp, I’ll just gonna have to make daddy buy me a new pair. But not before I make that puny nerd pay!”
As their laughter at the misery of others slowly started to die down, Jenna noticed something bizarre. Bianca’s smile, which just a moment ago had been full of glee, was now turning sinister. “Why are you making that face?” she wanted to ask, but somehow those words never left her lips. “Wait! Why can’t I say anything? And why is Bianca smiling? Helloooo? Bianca, help!” Jenna tried to communicate to her friend, but it was in vain.
“Aaaand, we’re in!” Bianca said. “I’m still not so sure about this,” Jenna heard her own voice say. “Relax,” Bianca retorted, “just try to enjoy this. You’ll see. Before you’ll notice, you’ll come to like it. Trust me.” Then, Bianca started patting down her own breasts and took a peek inside her shirt. “Oooh, look what we have here. What a shame. Unfortunately they’re not as big as the ones I had before. And they are certainly not as big as your current ones!” Bianca said while pointing with her eyes at Jenna’s chest.
Jenna watched her head look down in response. Her enormous mounds took up almost her entire field of view. Her petite hands reached up to cup and weigh them. “They’re heavy!” her voice said. Her fingers then tried to clench into fists, but they were hindered by the soft tissue that was now compressed almost painfully. A small moan escaped her mouth. “They’re sensitive, too!” “Whoever or whatever is doing this to me, stop it immediately or you’re gonna regret this! You’re making me look like pervert,” Jenna tried to threaten the intruder inside her own head. “Bianca! Do something! Help me!”
Meanwhile in Bianca’s head, the situation did not look any better. “Jenna, stop squeezing your boobs and help me out. My body is acting weird,” Bianca’s inner voice said as she was forced to perv on her friend groping herself. “Why aren’t you answering me! Helloooo? Can you hear me?” “Sorry, Bianca, but Jenna won’t hear you”, Bianca heard her own mouth say. “You see, you’re not in control anymore. Not of others, and certainly not of yourself.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This is a sweet little thing called ‘revenge.’ Revenge for all the evil things you’ve done!” Bianca heard herself say. “I never did anything!” “Are you sure? ’cause there are two boys in your class who would beg to differ” “What? You mean those losers? Whatever we did, they deserved it!” “We didn’t deserve nothing! But you deserve everything that’s coming to you. You controlled our lives for the last few years, and now we’re going to control your bodies, until you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“So we’re being controlled? Then who is inside my body!” Jenna asked. “T-T-This is Milo,” he said, making her voice sound uncharacteristically timid. “Aaaww, hello no! My body is being controlled by this disgusting freak? Things just can’t get any worse! Now, listen here you little bitch, you get out of my body this instant or you’ll wish I was back to crushing your junk!” “Ray,” Milo said in Jenna’s voice, “I think she’s relly pissed now. Maybe we should reconsider this.” “Don’t worry,” Rayleigh said using Bianca’s body, “we’re in full control. Those are just empty threats.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “let’s gather a little–what do you girls call it in your profession?—ah yes: blackmail! I’m sure, soon you two little birds will be singing a different tune, as soon as you realize that your reputation is at stake.”
In the meantime Milo tried to get acquainted with navigating his new body. When he tried to stand up, he at first had trouble sorting out his balance, since he did not have enough time yet to get used to his new center of gravity. He almost fell over, but was able to catch to himself in time by placing his hands on the ground. If someone had walked in on them in this moment, they would have thought that Jenna was trying to immitate some four-legged animal. Both her hands and feet were firmly planted on the ground and with her legs entirely straight, her butt proudly pointed towards the ceiling.
“Wow. Her body is really flexible.” Milo said with amazement. “Look, I can touch my toes!” “That’s because she’s a gymnast,” Rayleigh reminded him. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Mmmmhhh … I wonder if can …” With that, Milo stood back upright and then slowly started bending over backwards. “Haha, look at me. I’m like some girl from a horror movie,” he said laughing in Jenna’s voice while contorting her body into all sorts of strange shapes.
Next, he wanted to try doing splits. For that he stood back up again and then slowly slid his legs apart, one forward, one backward. As his step increased and increased, his pelvis automatically inched closer and closer to the ground. Finally, he plopped down on the floor with the full lengths of Jenna’s legs touching the ground. “Amazing, this doesn’t even hurt. Not one bit!”
“So, ‘Jenna’,” Rayleigh interrupted his antics with a wink, “why don’t you show us what else you can do?” “Ok, I guess, …” Rayleigh then got out Bianca’s phone and started recording, while Milo got up and started fumbling with the buttons on Jenna’s pajamas. “Uh, sorry …, this might take a while,” Milo said blushing with nervousness. With the way the red was highlighted by her pale skin and how her blue eyes flitted around nervously, Milo made Jenna almost look like an innocent school girl right before her first recital.
“Finally!” Milo whispered as he managed to open the last button. The opening of Jenna’s now-unbuttoned shirt provided a small window revealing both the creamy skin of her taut belly and how her big, teenage breasts gently touched each other even without a bra.
“Wait, what do you plan on doing? You don’t … No! Don’t! Pleeease, stop it! Anything but that!” Jenna cried in her own head, but Milo just ignored her. Then he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Milo started awkwardly moving Jenna’s hips to an imaginary beat while slowly sliding her shirt off her dainty shoulders, down the smooth skin of her arms, and finally letting it drop to the ground.
There they were: the biggest—and first—pair of boobs the two boys had ever seen in real life. Jenna’s boobs. They were marvellous, full and perky. They looked like ripe fruit garnished by two rosy nipples. The rough movements of Jenna’s hips made them bounce up and down, hypnotizing anyone who dared to gaze upon them.
At the same time, Milo made all sorts of awkward expressions with Jenna’s face, trying desperately to make her look sexy. He even ruffled up Jenna’s hair to make her look more raunchy, but instead it looked like a mess and only added to his overall inept performance. “L-look at me, I’m J-jenna,” he said unconvincingly, “I might act all innocent around everyone else, but … um … in truth I’m a total slut.” “Nooooo! Stop it!” Jenna pleaded in desperation. “You make me look like such a loser!”
“Haha, what are you doing?” Rayleigh laughed. “You look like a total dork. Loosen up. You’re way too stiff! Here, you hold the camera. I’ll show you how it’s done!” Rayleigh said. He got up, handed Milo the phone, and then took his place.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I promise!” Bianca pleaded meekly. “Ha, fat chance!” Rayleigh said internally. “You had plenty of chance to stop over the years, but you just continued on. Now it’s payback time, baby.” His confidence all fired up, he started dancing with much more bravado than Milo had shown before him.
Next, he flung off Bianca’s shirt in one swift motion, presenting her rather modest chest. “Well,” he said mockingly, “I think we all know that ‘my’ strengths have always laid elsewhere, don’t we?” With that he faced away from the camera and started wiggling Bianca’s enormous butt, which made her pajama pants slowly slide down her hips, revealing inch by inch her big, dark buns.
As soon as Bianca’s pants hit the floor, Rayleigh started slapping her butt, sending ripples through her giant cheeks. “Look at ‘my’ ass!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” Then he bent Bianca’s body forward and started twerking as hard he could, providing quite the show for the camera. “Please, no. This is humiliating.” Bianca whimpered. “I’m not like that!”
“See ‘Jenna’? That’s how it’s done. You gotta be proud of what your mama gave you!” Rayleigh said in a mock imitation of Bianca. If she were still in control of her own body, then tears would now start rolling down her face. “Hi, I’m Bianca, the star of the soccer team. When these cheek’s ain’t busy scoring goals, they be clapping for the team.” At this point Rayleigh was reveling in the control he was exerting over his former bullies.
Then, as a final act of humiliation, he strode over to Milo. He took the phone off of him and held it up high, angling it in such a way that both girls were in full view. Next, he put his other hand on the back of Jenna’s head, and then lunged in, kissing his friend deeply.
At first, Milo was caught by surprise. But then, for a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the girl’s soft lips meshing with each other and Jenna’s breast pressing against Bianca’s.
______________________________
“No, no, no, noooo!” Jenna and Bianca cried in unison. “If anyone sees this, we’re done. Pleeeease don’t do this! We beg of you! We regret what we did. We’re deeply sorry. We won’t come near you ever again. We’re also gonna make up for all that we did to you, we swear.”
Their cries snapped Milo out of their sensual entanglement. He broke off the kiss and gently pushed Rayleigh away from himself. “Ray, I think this is enough. They seem to have learned their lesson. Let’s just stop and leave. We probably have enough material to keep them in line.” “But why?” Rayleigh protested. “We’re having so much fun. Come on!” “No, I mean it,” Milo said, asserting himself for the first time in his life. “I also told you that I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. Yeah, I want to get revenge, too, but not like this!”
“Fine,” Rayleigh pouted. “But I think you’ll be changing your mind real soon about this, Jenna,” “What do you mean, Bianca?” Milo said. “And stop calling me ‘Jenna’.” A grin started spreading across Bianca’s face. “Wait, why did I call you ‘Bianca’?” Milo asked. “Because that’s my name, silly,” Rayleigh replied. “I’m Bianca and you’re Jenna.” “No, I'm not Jenna,” Milo exlaimed, “I’m Jenna! Wait … Aargh, stop it!” His heart started beating faster and fear started to settle in. “Are you doing this to me, Bianca?”
Milo felt a jolt run through his stolen body. He suddenly could not move anymore. “Wait, Bianca! Stop it. Please don’t do this!” Milo said, trapped in someone else’s head. He felt Jenna’s lips move all by themselves. “Bianca, I haven’t been honest with you,” Jenna’s body said. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve had a crush on you. I was ashamed of my feelings. You know, a girl liking a girl. I know, we live in more progressive times now. But still, what would people think? Also, I was afraid that you might hate me if I told you how I really felt. I’m still afraid. But, I can’t hide it any longer. Not anymore. Bianca, I love you!”
There was a moment of silece. “Please don’t hate me,” ‘Jenna’ pleaded quietly. “Aaaw, sweety,” Rayleigh said in Bianca’s voice, enjoying the act he made them put on. “Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. But now we can be more than friends. The truth is, I also liked you from the beginning. I’ve always looked forward to our sleepovers, where it’s just the two of us, all alone. And I’ve always enjoyed the way you smell each time we hugged, and feeling your warm body press against mine. Also, I’ve always secretly peeked at you when we were changing before P.E. and then thought of you when I masturbated at home. I’m just so happy that the truth is out now. Thanks to you I don’t feel ashamed anymore to admit it: I love you, too, Jenna.”
By now, Jenna’s body was a mere puppet, dancing to the pull of her master’s will. It was completely empty, devoid of any free will. Her only purpose now was to act out her role in Rayleigh’s play. Rayleigh used his powers to force tears of happiness to stream down Jenna’s face, which was glowing with joy. Then the two ‘girls’ embraced each other. “Does that mean, I’m your girlfriend now?” ‘Jenna’ asked while trying to wipe away the tears. “Of course it does!” ‘Bianca’ said while gently poking Jenna’s nose with her finger. “Now let me show what real girlfriends do.” “No, Bianca, I don’t want this. Don’t make me do this. This isn’t right,” Milo tried to say, but no one could hear him.
Then Jenna’s and Bianca’s bodies started to slowly and tenderly kiss each other. At first their lips only grazed each other reluctantly, quivering with a little nervousness. But with every soft touch, they grew more and more confident. Soon they were not just kissing anymore, but ravaging each other like animals, their moans muffled by each other’s lips and their hands wildy roaming all over each other’s bodies and through their hair. Milo could not help but feel the arousal of Jenna’s body slowly spill over into his mind.
Rayleigh placed Bianca’s chocolaty hands on Jenna’s enormous, milk-colored breasts while Jenna’s delicate hands explored the vastness of Bianca’s mighty butt. Then they stopped their kissing to give themselves a chance to catch their breath. They intensly stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Bianca’ into Jenna’s baby blue eyes and ‘Jenna’ into Bianca’s dark hazel eyes. A cheeky grin started to spread across each of their faces.
Rayeleigh took Jenna’s hand and led her over to her bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Jenna’s body onto Bianca’s lap. He slowly glid his hands along Jenna’s waist, drinking in her contours. Now on eye-level with her chest, he was completely entranced by her breasts. “Shake ’em for me,” he whispered. Against her will, Jenna’s body started shaking her boobs, causing her hefty orbs to swing from side to side. At the same time, Rayleigh started inching Bianca’s face closer and closer towards Jenna’s chest until he was nestling inbetween her soft globes, surrounded on both sides with warm flesh. Then he lifted up his stolen hands, placed them on either side of her mounds, and began pressing and squeezing them, really rubbing in feeling of their softness and making Jenna moan with pleasure.
After a small pause Rayleigh motioned Jenna’s body to get off and gently, with his hand, guided her head down inbetween his legs. Without an explicit prompt, ‘Jenna’ started softly kissing Bianca’s waiting slit. Jenna’s upper lips brushed ever so lightly against Bianca’s lower lips, as if she was teasing her. Then she started to slowly trace the tip of her tongue up and down Bianca’s opening, making it quiver with pleasure. Rayleigh started moaning in Bianca’s sultry voice as arousal welled up inside his stolen body.
‘Jenna’ then entered Bianca with her tongue and started deeply kissing her nether regions and feasting on her sweet juices. The pleasure inside Bianca’s body started rising and rising until, finally, a wave of orgams swept over Bianca’s body. “Oh, gooood!” ‘Bianca’ groaned. ‘Her’ meaty thighs clamped down abruptly on Jenna’s head, trapping her as if she was caught in a vice. The shaking of ‘her’ legs made Jenna’s head vibrate.
Rayleigh started to slowly come down from his high, breaving heavily. Basking in its afterglow, he gently caressed Jenna’s head. “Wooow … That was amaaaaazing!” he exlaimed. “You’ve done well, ‘Jenna’. I think it’s only fair that I repay you. How about a little appetizer?” He then took one of Bianca’s feet and placed it right in front of her face, nudging her lips with her big toe. “I think you like that, don’t you? Yeah, I know you like that.” The tone of Bianca’s voice started to turn domineering.
“Ew, don’t make me do this. This is disgusting!” the real Jenna thought. Milo on the other hand seemed strangely aroused by this. What he didn’t realize was that Rayleigh had weakend his grip on him quite a while ago. He had subconciously been going along with Rayleigh’s act, dutifuly playing his part. Without any further force from Rayleigh he started licking Bianca’s feet, up and down their entire sole and sucking vigorously sucking on her toes.
“Goood,” Rayleigh cooed. “Now get up, slut!” With that Milo bolted upwards and stood erect like a soldier. Then Rayleigh got up off the bed and stood in front of Milo. He reached out with both of Bianca’s hands and squeezed Jenna’s breasts hard, as if he wanted to squeeze juice out of lemons. “Ow!” Milo winced in pain. Jenna’s nipples became stiff with arousal.
Milo was still in turmoil about the morality of all of this, but he could no longer deny that it was exciting him. Then—slap, slap, slap! Jenna’s breasts jiggled widly with each hit that Rayleigh brought down on them. The pain reverberated throughout Jenna’s boobs and fuelled Milo’s rising pleasure as Bianca’s hands left increasingly redder marks on them. Rayleigh then gently rolled Jenna’s nipples inbetween his fingers. And without warning, he suddenly twisted them with a tremendous amount of force, nearly drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from Milo, as an orgasm washed over him that almost made Jenna’s knees buckle under the strain.
Rayleigh then drew a finger across Jenna’s wet slit, which made Milo shudder. He played with a string of Jenna’s juices inbetween his fingers and said, “I see someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” Milo did not dare to speak as his wildest fantasies were coming true right in this moment. All he could muster was a muffled, “mmmmhh,” while he nodded. Both Milo and Rayleigh increasingly enjoyed Rayleigh’s power trip, though for different reasons.
“Who told you you’re allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting freak?” Rayleigh said in a threatening tone. “I guess I’ll have to teach you!” With that, he forcefully threw Milo onto Jenna’s bed. He then took a deep breath before Bianca’s hands started raining down pain on Jenna’s ass. The intense spanking caused the heat inside of Milo to flare up again. “Yeees, harder! Harder!” Milo cried.
But before he was able to peak a second time, Rayleigh flipped over Jenna’s body onto her back. Then he grabbed the back of Jenna’s head and this time slammed it down into her own privates. He kept it there with brute force. Even though Jenna’s body was very flexible, this forced position still caused Milo considerable pain. Jenna’s breasts squished uncomfortably into her ribcage and thereby constricted her lungs. “Who told you you could talk back, you little slut?” ‘Bianca’ shouted. “Now, eat up or your mistress is gonna show you what real pain is!”
As commanded, Milo started licking Jenna’s slit, taking in her unfamiliar yet delicious taste. As his tongue explored the depths of his stolen hole, the pleasure in his body kept rising and rising. However, at the same time, his oxygen supply started to run low, as he could hardly breathe in this position. Knowing that he had only a limited amount of time, Milo drasticly increased his fervor in lapping up Jenna’s sweet juices, hoping to free himself before he passed out. In a race between hitting orgasm and suffocation, his stolen lips became slicker and slicker while his vision steadily darkenend.
But finally, in a last ditch effort, he managed to send himself over the edge and hit another orgasm before he could pass out in Jenna’s body. Rayleigh took the shaking of Jenna’s legs as a sign and pulled up her head, making Milo gasp for much needed air. “Goood girl,” Rayleigh commended ‘Jenna’ in a soothing voice while caressing her head. Milo panted heavily. “You we’re right,” he said with a deeply content smile spreading across his stolen face. “This is fun.”
1
7.8K
156
10
2
When Logan is invited by his friend Ryan to participate in a experiment, the last thing he is expecting is for his mind to be copied into the body of a brain slug.
However, instead of trying to fix things when she discovers this, Ryan sets her sights on fulfilling her all longheld ambitions with Logan's newfound abilities.
Logan is initially keen with just going along things as he possesses more bodies and pushes the extent of his capabilities. However, when a desire to be more than just her golden goose begins to stir within him, he soon finds himself starting to make plans to fulfill his own longheld desires...
Abstract
In a drab concrete parking structure, sitting inside a car that looked too small for his large frame, a sizable young man silently debated a life choice. It had occupied his mind for days, ever since a certain woman from his past had reached out for the first time in years. Even though he felt indecisive, he had a few mental tools to help him make his mind up. No matter how big the choice, the real decision was whether to start the engine back up and drive away… or open the car door and step out.
…
With a muted pop, the car door swung open.
He had already driven this far, turning back would be a waste of time and gas. Maybe the choice had already been made the very instant he got into his car earlier. Then all the worrying afterwards was just pointless emotion, the last-minute anxiety and doubt that comes with seeing “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” on the gates of hell despite knowing exactly what must be done.
The large man’s heavy footsteps made the only sound in the echoing gray maze. He was a tall mountain of a man that few would challenge physically. He was dressed nicely enough, something a little more than casual, something to wear when reuniting with an old… friend. After exiting the parking structure, he found himself a short distance away from a security booth, its red and white bar hanging guarding the street entrance and a separate pedestrian gate on the opposite side. Behind the booth’s bulletproof glass, a uniformed guard watched the man approach, asking for his ID as soon as he was close enough.
“Name and date of birth?”
“Logan Miller, February 19th. It says on my ID.”
“Reason for visiting?”
“I’m getting a tour from Ryan Everly.”
The guard returned Logan’s ID alongside a freshly printed plastic badge on a lanyard. An audible metallic click could be heard from the pedestrian gate. Logan passed through the gate and headed towards the monolithic building ahead.
As Logan walked, he inspected the plastic badge he was given. At the top, a logo for SynthraForma, followed by VISITOR in bold black letters, then his name, face, and a barcode with small numbers beneath.
Reaching the entrance, he tried the door handle and found it locked. He tried to use his badge on a nearby reader, but it beeped and showed a red light in rejection. Just as Logan was thinking of returning to the guard, the locked doors violently swung open from the inside. Barely dodging the doors, Logan suddenly stood before a stunning woman.
Beautiful red hair that instantly drew stares, captivating hazel eyes that were framed by complementary glasses, flawless skin that supermodels would envy, and a killer figure underneath a white lab coat. Ryan Everly, Logan’s high school best friend that he hadn’t seen since. She cracked a charming smile on her rosy lips, and spoke with her enchanting voice.
“Long time no see. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”
Introduction
Logan hadn’t seen Ryan since graduating high school a considerable number of years ago. In the past she was already pretty, but during the years that he hadn’t seen her, Ryan’s natural beauty was further enhanced to perfection. Judging by her current workplace, her intellect had no problems keeping pace either. Logan gave a polite smile and met Ryan’s mesmerizing eyes.
“Yeah, it sure has. How have you been?”
Ryan’s smile remained, but something subtle changed in her expression.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to lie to a friend. I’ve been a bit busy recently. Deadlines, disappointing results, and demanding superiors. You know how it can be. But anyways, I’m so glad you went out of your way to come here. I really appreciate it.”
Logan did expend quite some effort to get there. Scarce paid-time-off was spent from his job as an office clerk, not to mention the cost of a rental car and hotel. Still, it was a trip that he needed to take for his own sake, not just Ryan’s.
“It’s good to see you too. I can’t wait to see what you’ve been up to. Cured cancer or something?”
Ryan let out a little giggle that played like melodic birdsong in Logan’s ears.
“Well then, let me show you. Welcome to SynthraForma. I obviously can’t give you a full tour of the lab. In fact, even I don’t have access to everything, but I’ll show you what I can. Just a reminder, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? Not. A single. Breath.”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.”
Ryan accepted Logan’s promise and both of them entered the building. He stepped into a long hallway illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Before Logan could go anywhere, Ryan pointed towards a part of the wall next to the door. There was a plastic mount that held a stack of blank forms, a clipboard, and a pen on a string.
“Just a silly little NDA, for the suits and whatnot. Every visitor has to fill one out, but we don’t get that many visitors anyways.”
Logan gave it a quick skim before signing it, submitting the document in an empty slot clearly meant to receive them. Ryan then led him down the hallway. There were no windows inside, only heavy metal doors flanking them on both sides. Occasionally, there were laminated papers taped onto the walls, usually displaying some information or reminder for the employees.
Don’t hold doors open for others.
Keep your badge clearly visible at all times.
Thoroughly wash your hands before eating.
The potluck is this friday.
Finally, the two of them reached a door no different from the others. Ryan used her badge to unlock it and entered with Logan following behind. Now past three layers of security, Logan found himself in an unexpectedly mundane office. There were uniform cubicles to both sides, some with small decorations and knick knacks to add a splash of personality.
“These are our desks. It’s not glamorous, but most of our work happens here. Compiling data, writing reports, reading emails… Not very exciting, but it’s part of the job. This one is mine.”
Ryan’s desk had a computer like the others, with that addition of multiple stacks of books and papers, not to mention a couple of mugs with coffee stains. It looked like Ryan was about to say something, but someone else caught her attention. A woman was approaching them, dressed in the professional attire of a white button-up blouse and suit pants. She looked Asian, around her mid thirties, with light makeup and her hair in a bun. The authoritative click of her heels almost served as an introduction.
“Hello, you must be Ryan’s guest. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your tour, I just need to have a little chat with Ryan if that’s okay.”
Her words were sharp and assertive, ensuring that no one would challenge them. Logan certainly didn’t want to at least.
“I don’t mind at all. I’m Logan. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss…”
“Doctor. Doctor Li, SynthraForma research supervisor, pleased to meet you too Logan.”
“Anyways Ryan, I’ll make this quick. The deadline for your current project is coming up. I have great expectations of you, and I’ll make sure that your future assignments will reflect how well you perform here. I’m sure an incredible breakthrough is just on the horizon.”
Doctor Li left as quickly as she arrived, not waiting for Ryan to respond. Looking at Ryan, Logan could tell that she wasn’t particularly happy about her supervisor’s reminder. Her face didn’t give much away, but her silence and stiff body language gave it away. It took her a moment to compose herself, before she returned to Logan.
“I guess the tour wouldn’t be complete without an introduction to my kind and caring supervisor. Anyways, let’s get on with it.”
Ryan left her cubicle and promptly started walking again with Logan in tow. They reached another door that required Ryan’s badge. Logan noticed way more signage on this door than the ones before, being plastered with a variety of colorful symbols and labels warning about hazards of all kinds. Past the door, Logan saw a proper laboratory, filled with multitudes of complex-looking devices.
“Here on the left, high temperature superconductors.”
She carelessly gestured towards a workstation full of electronics, wires, and gas tanks of some kind.
Curiously, there was a plush of a squid on one of the workstation shelves. Ryan continued walking on without sparing a moment for Logan to really look.
“Over here on the right, artificial neural networks composed of lab-grown neurons.”
This workstation had a big microscope, with a collection of slides and plastic petri dishes next to it. Tons of papers, binders, and books filled this station out. Again, Ryan practically walked right past it, barely sparing the effort to mention it in her tour. This continued for the rest of the workstations until they reached the back of the lab.
“And here, in the back corner… my project… the slug project.”
Hypothesis
Ryan gestured to a small rectangular glass tank with some twigs and bedding. Logan had to lean in close to spot the first slug. It was an unremarkable little green thing, no different from something you’d find in somebody’s garden. Still though, being in this lab, there had to be more than met the eye. Or Ryan was pranking him.
Either way, Logan’s best choice was to play along.
“Interesting. What’s special about them?”
“These unassuming little blobs are a new species discovered in the Amazon. They were found in primate brains and initially mistaken for some sort of large parasitic worm. However, their biology and behavior is significantly different. A mature slug, ready to lay eggs, has the unique ability to enter a host’s brain without damaging the surrounding tissue, where it influences the host’s behavior. It compels the host to climb into the forest canopy, where it exits the host’s body and safely lays its eggs high up in the trees.”
Logan looked at the slugs again, watching as one lazily crawled on a leaf of lettuce. Brain slugs huh? It reminded him of something out of a sci-fi show, the image of a big green blob with a single eye coming to mind.
“The higher ups say that they’re interested in the mechanics of how it enters and exits the host's brain without damaging anything. They say that it could be a revolution in neurosurgery. But I think that we all know what really brings in all the funding. Mind control.”
Logan almost had to hold back a chuckle. It sounded more like the premise to a horror video game or movie, a cheap one at that.
Experimenting with mind control slugs? Logan was waiting for Ryan to tell the punch line at this point.
“We’ve studied their natural behavior and made significant progress. We’ve selectively bred them to trigger their ‘control’ behavior independent from their breeding cycle, and to extend that control duration. We’ve conducted limited human testing and confirmed compatibility and functionality as well.”
“Human testing?”
“Yes, of course. Given the premise of this project, it would be unavoidable, don't you think?”
Logan was able to avoid laughing out loud, but he couldn’t help a little grin. He was surprised by the matter-of-fact tone that Ryan was able to keep up. So she had tested these mind control slugs on people huh?
“Well, who’d you test this on?”
“For obvious reasons, I can’t discuss any of their identities, but they were all fully consenting individuals that were compensated for their involvement. Also, I should mention that I wasn’t working on this project during the period that these tests were conducted, so I had no direct involvement. I’ve only joined recently.”
Logan was a little confused by her response. That little fact at the end there didn’t seem to be a part of the joke, it seemed a little too realistic. The idea bothered Logan. Maybe she wasn’t joking. Maybe this was real. What kind of place was Ryan working at? Logan shifted to a more serious tone.
“Hold on. This whole slug thing. The human testing. Doesn’t that… I don’t know, concern you or something? Like, the stuff that you’re working on… this whole project seems…”
“Unethical? Inhuman? Evil? I certainly thought so too when I was first assigned, but the project’s current state is far from what it was in the past.”
Ryan picked up a spray bottle next to the tank, opened its lid, and spritzed some clear fluid around the enclosure before closing it again.
“Everything I told you about was done years ago. The project hit a wall. The slugs just couldn’t execute complex commands, only the most basic trained actions in response to verbal triggers. A far cry from mind control. Continued investments of time and resources yielded nothing, resulting in researchers and funding getting pulled. When I was assigned to this project, it was already dead and buried for a long time.”
Logan could see tints of frustration in Ryan. He had seen her get frustrated at hitches in experiments before, but this seemed like a deeper kind of frustration. She probably felt trapped with a project like this.
“Currently, most of my day-to-day is being a slug keeper. Moisturize the habitat at least twice a day, feed the slugs and replace the food before it rots, replace the soil every few weeks. I’m almost envious of Sisyphus, at least he got a boulder.”
“Sorry to hear that you’ve had it so rough. Maybe it would be a good idea to ask for a different project, or just leave all this behind and look for a different lab?”
“Oh believe me I’ve tried, but there are certain… factors… that prevent me from transfering projects. Leaving for another lab isn’t a good option either. No lab in this country can compare to SynthraForma’s. The resources and secrecy here are exactly what I need.”
Hmm… it seemed like Ryan was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Any choice would be a compromise, and a pretty lousy one at that. Watching Ryan’s expressions, Logan could tell she wasn’t happy about things, but she seemed to perk up as she continued speaking.
“It’s not all doom and gloom though, I have a plan. Imagine this. I succeed with this project out of nowhere. Why, news of such a miracle will go straight to the highest executives. They’ll hear that little ol’ me, a single researcher with no support, managed to break through an impenetrable wall that defeated the best of the best. I’ll get the recognition I deserve and free reign to work on what I want.”
Logan could see a flame burning within Ryan, a determination that pushed her forward.
Instead of admitting defeat, she was fighting harder than ever before. Logan was worried that Ryan was feeling down, maybe searching for solace or even pity, but those worries were cleared by her display of brash, unashamed confidence. He almost wanted to start applauding her.
“I’m glad that you’ve got a goal to aim for, but how’re you gonna do it?”
Ryan cracked a mischievous smile, giving Logan a look that sent a little shiver down his back. He knew that look. Oh, he knew that look. Trouble was coming.
Method
Well Logan, my good friend, that’s where you come in! I have an idea, a theory, a breakthrough! The main problem is the slugs’ lack of cognitive ability. Well it just so happens that one of my colleagues is working on a neuron growth promoter, top secret of course. Normally I wouldn’t have access, but let’s just say that I helped with his homework and he’s helping with mine.”
Ryan nodded towards a small glass vial nearby the slug tank. That must be the neuron growth stuff.
“Unfortunately, that alone would only produce slugs that are better at being slugs. Not exactly what we need. It would require far too much training to reach the levels needed for true mind control. That’s where another little gadget comes in.”
Ryan gestured towards something else near the tank. It looked like a bundle of multi-colored wires, each wire connected to a small device that had a suction cup.
“This is a prototype electroencephalogram, or EEG. It detects electrical activity within your brain, amplifies it, and sends it to the target. I’m sure you’re catching onto my idea now. We’ll be sending your brainwaves into a slug injected with the neural growth promoter. This external stimulation combined with the neuron growth will potentially create neural pathways within the slug that mirror yours.”
Logan took a moment to let things sink in. Ryan had conducted plenty of wild experiments in high school, Logan being intimately involved in most of them. All of them were attempts at something never done before, but at least they were somewhat based in reality. This experiment seemed to jump over that line and land fully into the territory of fantasy and madness. Combining all this experimental tech in an attempt to create mind controlling slugs? This had to be desperation more than anything else.
“Why’s it gotta be my brain waves? You’re the most intelligent person I know, so wouldn’t your brain waves be better?”
“Thanks, but if I could do this alone, I would have. The slugs wouldn’t just mirror the intelligence of the donor, but also their traits. I wouldn’t describe myself as particularly obedient, so it would be a big problem if the slugs mirrored me. You, on the other hand, have always been very… generous and helpful. I couldn’t think of a better person to ask.”
Logan wasn’t quite happy about being called generous and helpful in this context. He could tell that she really meant obedient, willing to make a fool of himself for her sake. In high school, Ryan always took advantage of Logan’s affection for her, and he gratefully allowed it. Anything to get the girl right? Well, it didn’t end up that way. He assisted Ryan in many of her experiments, sometimes to his detriment.
There were lots of reasons and rationalizations.
Teenage hormones, desperately avoiding loneliness, a dose of simple adolescent stupidity, all things that Logan told himself he completely left behind in the past. Reflecting on it over the years after graduation, he vowed to never allow himself to be taken advantage of like that again. Yet here he was, having his resolve put to the test.
Ryan could tell that Logan was deliberating. There was a possibility that he’d make the wrong choice. She leaned a little closer to him, looking up with a gentle expression.
“Please? I’m in a real tough spot here, and I could really use some help. Please Logan?”
Logan kept his expression stern as he gazed upon Ryan’s fragile beauty, looking into her pleading eyes. It wasn’t the first time that she’d used this trick. In high school, this was her ace-in-the-hole to convince Logan against his better judgment. And it worked every time. Logan let out a little sigh as he relaxed a little. It couldn’t hurt to get some more info right?
“What are the risks?”
Ryan broke into a smile, happy to hear that her faithful assistant was still her’s.
“None, absolutely none. You just put on the EEG’s electrodes and they’ll record everything that we need. No risks at all.”
Logan kept his expression even as he made his choice. He looked at Ryan again, searching for any indication of a lie or half-truth. She looked genuine, a real friend in need. Well, there really was no choice. To refuse at this point would be cruel. Logan hoped this wouldn’t end poorly.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. This means the world to me. I’ll make it up to you later, but let’s begin the experiment as soon as possible.”
Ryan pulled up a chair for Logan, indicating to take a seat. She then grabbed a petri dish, went over to the slug tank with a pair of tongs, and carefully lifted a wiggly green critter onto the dish. She set it near Logan, and he glanced over. It almost felt like the slug was looking back at him with its little antennae.
It took a while, but eventually every single one of the numerous electrodes were attached to Logan’s head. Each electrode connected to a wire, all of which met in a braid that connected to a small device. The small metal box was connected to Ryan’s lab computer, and also had another side where a smaller braid of wires exited. Those tiny wires went over to the slug, where they connected to miniature electrodes that were placed all over the slug’s body.
“Alright, checks done, double checks done. I think we’re ready to go. Hanging in there
Logan?”
Logan had tried his best to keep still while the electrodes were put on him, as if he was getting a haircut. He also made an effort to avoid staring at Ryan as she worked. He didn’t want to creep her out or make things awkward, but for him, she was the only thing worth looking at in this lab. The way that her white lab coat contoured over her perfect figure, the way she moved around him, the view of her chest when she put the electrodes on his head…
“Yeah, I’m fine. Ready to go.”
“Okay, perfect. Then let’s begin the experiment.”
Ryan went back to the tank and took the vial of neuron growth promoter along with a syringe. Logan watched as she carefully measured out a dosage. After loading the syringe, Ryan carefully injected its contents into the slug. She then returned to her computer.
“Let’s hope for the best.”
With that, she activated the EEG. The device began to record Logan’s brain waves, sending them into the slug. Logan didn’t feel anything different on his end. The slug seemed fine too. Ryan turned a tablet screen towards Logan and started to play a video. It showed a slideshow of various things, ranging from apples to horses to people to mountains and much more. The video was supposed to help Logan’s brain stay active and somewhat direct the learning for the slug.
“Okay, everything looks good. It’ll be a few hours, but I’ll be here with you. If anything happens, let me know immediately. Again, I just want to say thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.”
Experiment
The first ten minutes were fine. Just look at the pictures and videos on the tablet, easy right?
The next ten minutes were the toughest. Logan had to stay disciplined, forcing himself to sit still and keep watching. Every image that appeared on the tablet blended and blurred with the last. Logan even found it difficult to keep his eyes focussed.
Another ten minutes later, Logan managed to fall into a sustainable rhythm of sorts, and wasn’t struggling as much. He started playing a little mental game with the images, trying to improvise a story with each object that popped up on the tablet screen.
The man in a black suit… went to the windmill?
And in the windmill he… found a flock of sheep. Okay, so he was actually a manager for the mill, and the sheep were workers on a break. As a reward for hard work, the manager gave each of them a… butterknife? Woah, okay, so the manager was actually inciting the sheep to revolt against their oppressors. The oppressors that were forcing the sheep to work were… mongooses… mongeese?
The story unfurled itself, on and on, sometimes needing the occasional reset. Logan did his best to keep his neurons activated for this experiment. He kept going and going and going, persevering and relentless. To his credit, he managed to keep his focus most of the time, but as the process dragged on, his focus wavered more and more. The ideas were less creative, the mental image grew blurry, and the plot moved slower. Logan tried to pull himself back into the groove, but his descent was inevitable at this point. His mind grew dimmer and dimmer, a dark fog growing thicker and more impenetrable until the last candle flame of thought flickered out, and nothing remained.
…
…
…
Ryan checked up on Logan, looking over at him slightly slumped in his chair. His head was slightly tilted to the side and his eyes were closed. Must’ve dozed off. She had already noticed that Logan was struggling to stay awake for some time. Unfortunately, any stimulant like coffee could affect the experiment, so Ryan would have to wake him up everytime he nodded off.
Ryan got up and walked over to Logan, shaking him by the shoulder.
“Logan? Logan wake up.”
No response. She shook him harder. Nothing. She lightly tapped him on the cheek. Still nothing. She carefully opened his eyelid. Logan’s eye blankly stared back at her. Ryan felt a wave of dread flood through her. Logan? Logan!
…
…
…
Ryan had done everything that she could. Logan was unconscious when she found him. She had immediately called for help, and he was rushed to the hospital by paramedics. She was in shock. What happened? What caused this? Was it the experiment? Impossible. But the timing… Healthy young men like him don’t just… stop, not like this.
Ryan knew that she was screwed. Even if it somehow wasn’t her fault, there was no way that SynthraForma would overlook all the attention she was bringing in.
Ryan sat in her little corner of the lab, feeling hollowed out like an empty shell. Her eyes drifted to Logan’s empty chair. He was just there, not long ago, healthy and energetic.
The prototype EEG laid on the floor nearby, still in the same place that it landed after
Ryan had yanked it off of Logan’s head when trying to wake him. Ryan knew that the prototype EEG and neuron growth promoter would cast a lot of suspicion on the situation, but hiding or destroying evidence would practically be an admission of guilt. Ryan knew that there was a good chance that the experiment had nothing to do with Logan’s sudden decline, and that it was just a coincidence. But there was no way for her to know. She’d have to wait to hear from the hospital, or the police.
While Ryan was sitting, sorting through her thoughts, her supervisor Doctor Li showed up.
“I’m sure you’re shaken by all of this. Go home. I’ll give you a call if we need anything from you. Don’t even think about coming to work until you’ve fully recovered from this shocking incident, okay?”
Ryan didn’t want to respond, she didn’t even make eye contact. She just continued sitting with her head hung as Doctor Li promptly left. When Ryan heard the sound of the lab door closing, she raised her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tank of slugs. A sudden rush of heat filled her body as she felt a fierce hatred towards them. Stupid fucking slugs! She wanted to get a hammer and smash the tank, crushing the pathetic little bastards.
But she restrained herself. She just glared at them, cursing their very existence. Freaks of nature. She got up from her seat, deciding that the privacy of her apartment would indeed be better than sulking in the lab. She reached over and grabbed her white lab coat. She had taken it off earlier while trying to help Logan.
Ryan stuck her left arm through its sleeve before draping it over her back and filling out the other sleeve. As she left the lab, Ryan was completely unaware of the little green hitchhiker in her lab coat’s pocket.
Recalibration
Dark…
Familiar… smell… Rough… all over…
Where…?
…
Hungry…
Move…
Need to move…
That way…
…
In the darkest hours of the night, a little green slug crawled out of a lab coat pocket thrown on top of a laundry basket. Confused and disoriented, it did the only thing that it could, follow its instincts.
Delicate slivers of moonlight leaked through the thin blinds of the bedroom. The room wasn’t particularly messy or clean, just lived-in. There were two beds opposite to each other in this small space. The plucky little slug crawled along the floor, inch by inch, towards the bed on the right.
Progress was slow, but steady. A few inches every minute. The slug finally reached the foot of the bed and began its journey upwards. It climbed against gravity, leaving a shiny trail of slime behind on the wood. After a few minutes, the unyielding green spelunker reached the top of the bed, where a sleeping beauty lay enveloped in a peaceful slumber. Her chest periodically rose and fell as silent breaths came and went.
The slug continued, crawling onto the sheets of the bed, eventually making its way onto the pillow. The slug’s small, pulsating body made the insidious last legs of its journey as it aimed for a small opening.
The slug touched the sleeping woman’s skin, feeling her warmth as it began to climb the side of her neck. She didn’t even stir. The slug climbed closer, closer, until it reached… the entrance. The slug dipped itself into her ear, pushing its head in and quickly filling the small tunnel’s width. The slug squeezed its malleable body into the small space, crawling deeper and deeper and deeper…
The woman stirred a little. A small readjustment of the body in response to mild discomfort. A light groan escaped her lips, as if she was just having a bad dream. There was no way to know that something was entering her… invading her… burrowing deep deep inside. She would undoubtedly panic if she was awake, if she knew what was happening to her, but it was just the slug’s luck that she was deep asleep, that she was defenseless.
Deep inside her head, the slug finally felt… satisfaction. It had reached its destination. Now, it could rest, just for a little. The woman’s body settled back down, returning to its restful state. Her breathing returned to a slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. The only thing amiss was a small trail of dried slug fluid.
However, instead of trying to fix things when she discovers this, Ryan sets her sights on fulfilling her all longheld ambitions with Logan's newfound abilities.
Logan is initially keen with just going along things as he possesses more bodies and pushes the extent of his capabilities. However, when a desire to be more than just her golden goose begins to stir within him, he soon finds himself starting to make plans to fulfill his own longheld desires...
Abstract
In a drab concrete parking structure, sitting inside a car that looked too small for his large frame, a sizable young man silently debated a life choice. It had occupied his mind for days, ever since a certain woman from his past had reached out for the first time in years. Even though he felt indecisive, he had a few mental tools to help him make his mind up. No matter how big the choice, the real decision was whether to start the engine back up and drive away… or open the car door and step out.
…
With a muted pop, the car door swung open.
He had already driven this far, turning back would be a waste of time and gas. Maybe the choice had already been made the very instant he got into his car earlier. Then all the worrying afterwards was just pointless emotion, the last-minute anxiety and doubt that comes with seeing “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” on the gates of hell despite knowing exactly what must be done.
The large man’s heavy footsteps made the only sound in the echoing gray maze. He was a tall mountain of a man that few would challenge physically. He was dressed nicely enough, something a little more than casual, something to wear when reuniting with an old… friend. After exiting the parking structure, he found himself a short distance away from a security booth, its red and white bar hanging guarding the street entrance and a separate pedestrian gate on the opposite side. Behind the booth’s bulletproof glass, a uniformed guard watched the man approach, asking for his ID as soon as he was close enough.
“Name and date of birth?”
“Logan Miller, February 19th. It says on my ID.”
“Reason for visiting?”
“I’m getting a tour from Ryan Everly.”
The guard returned Logan’s ID alongside a freshly printed plastic badge on a lanyard. An audible metallic click could be heard from the pedestrian gate. Logan passed through the gate and headed towards the monolithic building ahead.
As Logan walked, he inspected the plastic badge he was given. At the top, a logo for SynthraForma, followed by VISITOR in bold black letters, then his name, face, and a barcode with small numbers beneath.
Reaching the entrance, he tried the door handle and found it locked. He tried to use his badge on a nearby reader, but it beeped and showed a red light in rejection. Just as Logan was thinking of returning to the guard, the locked doors violently swung open from the inside. Barely dodging the doors, Logan suddenly stood before a stunning woman.
Beautiful red hair that instantly drew stares, captivating hazel eyes that were framed by complementary glasses, flawless skin that supermodels would envy, and a killer figure underneath a white lab coat. Ryan Everly, Logan’s high school best friend that he hadn’t seen since. She cracked a charming smile on her rosy lips, and spoke with her enchanting voice.
“Long time no see. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”
Introduction
Logan hadn’t seen Ryan since graduating high school a considerable number of years ago. In the past she was already pretty, but during the years that he hadn’t seen her, Ryan’s natural beauty was further enhanced to perfection. Judging by her current workplace, her intellect had no problems keeping pace either. Logan gave a polite smile and met Ryan’s mesmerizing eyes.
“Yeah, it sure has. How have you been?”
Ryan’s smile remained, but something subtle changed in her expression.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to lie to a friend. I’ve been a bit busy recently. Deadlines, disappointing results, and demanding superiors. You know how it can be. But anyways, I’m so glad you went out of your way to come here. I really appreciate it.”
Logan did expend quite some effort to get there. Scarce paid-time-off was spent from his job as an office clerk, not to mention the cost of a rental car and hotel. Still, it was a trip that he needed to take for his own sake, not just Ryan’s.
“It’s good to see you too. I can’t wait to see what you’ve been up to. Cured cancer or something?”
Ryan let out a little giggle that played like melodic birdsong in Logan’s ears.
“Well then, let me show you. Welcome to SynthraForma. I obviously can’t give you a full tour of the lab. In fact, even I don’t have access to everything, but I’ll show you what I can. Just a reminder, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? Not. A single. Breath.”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.”
Ryan accepted Logan’s promise and both of them entered the building. He stepped into a long hallway illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Before Logan could go anywhere, Ryan pointed towards a part of the wall next to the door. There was a plastic mount that held a stack of blank forms, a clipboard, and a pen on a string.
“Just a silly little NDA, for the suits and whatnot. Every visitor has to fill one out, but we don’t get that many visitors anyways.”
Logan gave it a quick skim before signing it, submitting the document in an empty slot clearly meant to receive them. Ryan then led him down the hallway. There were no windows inside, only heavy metal doors flanking them on both sides. Occasionally, there were laminated papers taped onto the walls, usually displaying some information or reminder for the employees.
Don’t hold doors open for others.
Keep your badge clearly visible at all times.
Thoroughly wash your hands before eating.
The potluck is this friday.
Finally, the two of them reached a door no different from the others. Ryan used her badge to unlock it and entered with Logan following behind. Now past three layers of security, Logan found himself in an unexpectedly mundane office. There were uniform cubicles to both sides, some with small decorations and knick knacks to add a splash of personality.
“These are our desks. It’s not glamorous, but most of our work happens here. Compiling data, writing reports, reading emails… Not very exciting, but it’s part of the job. This one is mine.”
Ryan’s desk had a computer like the others, with that addition of multiple stacks of books and papers, not to mention a couple of mugs with coffee stains. It looked like Ryan was about to say something, but someone else caught her attention. A woman was approaching them, dressed in the professional attire of a white button-up blouse and suit pants. She looked Asian, around her mid thirties, with light makeup and her hair in a bun. The authoritative click of her heels almost served as an introduction.
“Hello, you must be Ryan’s guest. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your tour, I just need to have a little chat with Ryan if that’s okay.”
Her words were sharp and assertive, ensuring that no one would challenge them. Logan certainly didn’t want to at least.
“I don’t mind at all. I’m Logan. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss…”
“Doctor. Doctor Li, SynthraForma research supervisor, pleased to meet you too Logan.”
“Anyways Ryan, I’ll make this quick. The deadline for your current project is coming up. I have great expectations of you, and I’ll make sure that your future assignments will reflect how well you perform here. I’m sure an incredible breakthrough is just on the horizon.”
Doctor Li left as quickly as she arrived, not waiting for Ryan to respond. Looking at Ryan, Logan could tell that she wasn’t particularly happy about her supervisor’s reminder. Her face didn’t give much away, but her silence and stiff body language gave it away. It took her a moment to compose herself, before she returned to Logan.
“I guess the tour wouldn’t be complete without an introduction to my kind and caring supervisor. Anyways, let’s get on with it.”
Ryan left her cubicle and promptly started walking again with Logan in tow. They reached another door that required Ryan’s badge. Logan noticed way more signage on this door than the ones before, being plastered with a variety of colorful symbols and labels warning about hazards of all kinds. Past the door, Logan saw a proper laboratory, filled with multitudes of complex-looking devices.
“Here on the left, high temperature superconductors.”
She carelessly gestured towards a workstation full of electronics, wires, and gas tanks of some kind.
Curiously, there was a plush of a squid on one of the workstation shelves. Ryan continued walking on without sparing a moment for Logan to really look.
“Over here on the right, artificial neural networks composed of lab-grown neurons.”
This workstation had a big microscope, with a collection of slides and plastic petri dishes next to it. Tons of papers, binders, and books filled this station out. Again, Ryan practically walked right past it, barely sparing the effort to mention it in her tour. This continued for the rest of the workstations until they reached the back of the lab.
“And here, in the back corner… my project… the slug project.”
Hypothesis
Ryan gestured to a small rectangular glass tank with some twigs and bedding. Logan had to lean in close to spot the first slug. It was an unremarkable little green thing, no different from something you’d find in somebody’s garden. Still though, being in this lab, there had to be more than met the eye. Or Ryan was pranking him.
Either way, Logan’s best choice was to play along.
“Interesting. What’s special about them?”
“These unassuming little blobs are a new species discovered in the Amazon. They were found in primate brains and initially mistaken for some sort of large parasitic worm. However, their biology and behavior is significantly different. A mature slug, ready to lay eggs, has the unique ability to enter a host’s brain without damaging the surrounding tissue, where it influences the host’s behavior. It compels the host to climb into the forest canopy, where it exits the host’s body and safely lays its eggs high up in the trees.”
Logan looked at the slugs again, watching as one lazily crawled on a leaf of lettuce. Brain slugs huh? It reminded him of something out of a sci-fi show, the image of a big green blob with a single eye coming to mind.
“The higher ups say that they’re interested in the mechanics of how it enters and exits the host's brain without damaging anything. They say that it could be a revolution in neurosurgery. But I think that we all know what really brings in all the funding. Mind control.”
Logan almost had to hold back a chuckle. It sounded more like the premise to a horror video game or movie, a cheap one at that.
Experimenting with mind control slugs? Logan was waiting for Ryan to tell the punch line at this point.
“We’ve studied their natural behavior and made significant progress. We’ve selectively bred them to trigger their ‘control’ behavior independent from their breeding cycle, and to extend that control duration. We’ve conducted limited human testing and confirmed compatibility and functionality as well.”
“Human testing?”
“Yes, of course. Given the premise of this project, it would be unavoidable, don't you think?”
Logan was able to avoid laughing out loud, but he couldn’t help a little grin. He was surprised by the matter-of-fact tone that Ryan was able to keep up. So she had tested these mind control slugs on people huh?
“Well, who’d you test this on?”
“For obvious reasons, I can’t discuss any of their identities, but they were all fully consenting individuals that were compensated for their involvement. Also, I should mention that I wasn’t working on this project during the period that these tests were conducted, so I had no direct involvement. I’ve only joined recently.”
Logan was a little confused by her response. That little fact at the end there didn’t seem to be a part of the joke, it seemed a little too realistic. The idea bothered Logan. Maybe she wasn’t joking. Maybe this was real. What kind of place was Ryan working at? Logan shifted to a more serious tone.
“Hold on. This whole slug thing. The human testing. Doesn’t that… I don’t know, concern you or something? Like, the stuff that you’re working on… this whole project seems…”
“Unethical? Inhuman? Evil? I certainly thought so too when I was first assigned, but the project’s current state is far from what it was in the past.”
Ryan picked up a spray bottle next to the tank, opened its lid, and spritzed some clear fluid around the enclosure before closing it again.
“Everything I told you about was done years ago. The project hit a wall. The slugs just couldn’t execute complex commands, only the most basic trained actions in response to verbal triggers. A far cry from mind control. Continued investments of time and resources yielded nothing, resulting in researchers and funding getting pulled. When I was assigned to this project, it was already dead and buried for a long time.”
Logan could see tints of frustration in Ryan. He had seen her get frustrated at hitches in experiments before, but this seemed like a deeper kind of frustration. She probably felt trapped with a project like this.
“Currently, most of my day-to-day is being a slug keeper. Moisturize the habitat at least twice a day, feed the slugs and replace the food before it rots, replace the soil every few weeks. I’m almost envious of Sisyphus, at least he got a boulder.”
“Sorry to hear that you’ve had it so rough. Maybe it would be a good idea to ask for a different project, or just leave all this behind and look for a different lab?”
“Oh believe me I’ve tried, but there are certain… factors… that prevent me from transfering projects. Leaving for another lab isn’t a good option either. No lab in this country can compare to SynthraForma’s. The resources and secrecy here are exactly what I need.”
Hmm… it seemed like Ryan was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Any choice would be a compromise, and a pretty lousy one at that. Watching Ryan’s expressions, Logan could tell she wasn’t happy about things, but she seemed to perk up as she continued speaking.
“It’s not all doom and gloom though, I have a plan. Imagine this. I succeed with this project out of nowhere. Why, news of such a miracle will go straight to the highest executives. They’ll hear that little ol’ me, a single researcher with no support, managed to break through an impenetrable wall that defeated the best of the best. I’ll get the recognition I deserve and free reign to work on what I want.”
Logan could see a flame burning within Ryan, a determination that pushed her forward.
Instead of admitting defeat, she was fighting harder than ever before. Logan was worried that Ryan was feeling down, maybe searching for solace or even pity, but those worries were cleared by her display of brash, unashamed confidence. He almost wanted to start applauding her.
“I’m glad that you’ve got a goal to aim for, but how’re you gonna do it?”
Ryan cracked a mischievous smile, giving Logan a look that sent a little shiver down his back. He knew that look. Oh, he knew that look. Trouble was coming.
Method
Well Logan, my good friend, that’s where you come in! I have an idea, a theory, a breakthrough! The main problem is the slugs’ lack of cognitive ability. Well it just so happens that one of my colleagues is working on a neuron growth promoter, top secret of course. Normally I wouldn’t have access, but let’s just say that I helped with his homework and he’s helping with mine.”
Ryan nodded towards a small glass vial nearby the slug tank. That must be the neuron growth stuff.
“Unfortunately, that alone would only produce slugs that are better at being slugs. Not exactly what we need. It would require far too much training to reach the levels needed for true mind control. That’s where another little gadget comes in.”
Ryan gestured towards something else near the tank. It looked like a bundle of multi-colored wires, each wire connected to a small device that had a suction cup.
“This is a prototype electroencephalogram, or EEG. It detects electrical activity within your brain, amplifies it, and sends it to the target. I’m sure you’re catching onto my idea now. We’ll be sending your brainwaves into a slug injected with the neural growth promoter. This external stimulation combined with the neuron growth will potentially create neural pathways within the slug that mirror yours.”
Logan took a moment to let things sink in. Ryan had conducted plenty of wild experiments in high school, Logan being intimately involved in most of them. All of them were attempts at something never done before, but at least they were somewhat based in reality. This experiment seemed to jump over that line and land fully into the territory of fantasy and madness. Combining all this experimental tech in an attempt to create mind controlling slugs? This had to be desperation more than anything else.
“Why’s it gotta be my brain waves? You’re the most intelligent person I know, so wouldn’t your brain waves be better?”
“Thanks, but if I could do this alone, I would have. The slugs wouldn’t just mirror the intelligence of the donor, but also their traits. I wouldn’t describe myself as particularly obedient, so it would be a big problem if the slugs mirrored me. You, on the other hand, have always been very… generous and helpful. I couldn’t think of a better person to ask.”
Logan wasn’t quite happy about being called generous and helpful in this context. He could tell that she really meant obedient, willing to make a fool of himself for her sake. In high school, Ryan always took advantage of Logan’s affection for her, and he gratefully allowed it. Anything to get the girl right? Well, it didn’t end up that way. He assisted Ryan in many of her experiments, sometimes to his detriment.
There were lots of reasons and rationalizations.
Teenage hormones, desperately avoiding loneliness, a dose of simple adolescent stupidity, all things that Logan told himself he completely left behind in the past. Reflecting on it over the years after graduation, he vowed to never allow himself to be taken advantage of like that again. Yet here he was, having his resolve put to the test.
Ryan could tell that Logan was deliberating. There was a possibility that he’d make the wrong choice. She leaned a little closer to him, looking up with a gentle expression.
“Please? I’m in a real tough spot here, and I could really use some help. Please Logan?”
Logan kept his expression stern as he gazed upon Ryan’s fragile beauty, looking into her pleading eyes. It wasn’t the first time that she’d used this trick. In high school, this was her ace-in-the-hole to convince Logan against his better judgment. And it worked every time. Logan let out a little sigh as he relaxed a little. It couldn’t hurt to get some more info right?
“What are the risks?”
Ryan broke into a smile, happy to hear that her faithful assistant was still her’s.
“None, absolutely none. You just put on the EEG’s electrodes and they’ll record everything that we need. No risks at all.”
Logan kept his expression even as he made his choice. He looked at Ryan again, searching for any indication of a lie or half-truth. She looked genuine, a real friend in need. Well, there really was no choice. To refuse at this point would be cruel. Logan hoped this wouldn’t end poorly.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. This means the world to me. I’ll make it up to you later, but let’s begin the experiment as soon as possible.”
Ryan pulled up a chair for Logan, indicating to take a seat. She then grabbed a petri dish, went over to the slug tank with a pair of tongs, and carefully lifted a wiggly green critter onto the dish. She set it near Logan, and he glanced over. It almost felt like the slug was looking back at him with its little antennae.
It took a while, but eventually every single one of the numerous electrodes were attached to Logan’s head. Each electrode connected to a wire, all of which met in a braid that connected to a small device. The small metal box was connected to Ryan’s lab computer, and also had another side where a smaller braid of wires exited. Those tiny wires went over to the slug, where they connected to miniature electrodes that were placed all over the slug’s body.
“Alright, checks done, double checks done. I think we’re ready to go. Hanging in there
Logan?”
Logan had tried his best to keep still while the electrodes were put on him, as if he was getting a haircut. He also made an effort to avoid staring at Ryan as she worked. He didn’t want to creep her out or make things awkward, but for him, she was the only thing worth looking at in this lab. The way that her white lab coat contoured over her perfect figure, the way she moved around him, the view of her chest when she put the electrodes on his head…
“Yeah, I’m fine. Ready to go.”
“Okay, perfect. Then let’s begin the experiment.”
Ryan went back to the tank and took the vial of neuron growth promoter along with a syringe. Logan watched as she carefully measured out a dosage. After loading the syringe, Ryan carefully injected its contents into the slug. She then returned to her computer.
“Let’s hope for the best.”
With that, she activated the EEG. The device began to record Logan’s brain waves, sending them into the slug. Logan didn’t feel anything different on his end. The slug seemed fine too. Ryan turned a tablet screen towards Logan and started to play a video. It showed a slideshow of various things, ranging from apples to horses to people to mountains and much more. The video was supposed to help Logan’s brain stay active and somewhat direct the learning for the slug.
“Okay, everything looks good. It’ll be a few hours, but I’ll be here with you. If anything happens, let me know immediately. Again, I just want to say thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.”
Experiment
The first ten minutes were fine. Just look at the pictures and videos on the tablet, easy right?
The next ten minutes were the toughest. Logan had to stay disciplined, forcing himself to sit still and keep watching. Every image that appeared on the tablet blended and blurred with the last. Logan even found it difficult to keep his eyes focussed.
Another ten minutes later, Logan managed to fall into a sustainable rhythm of sorts, and wasn’t struggling as much. He started playing a little mental game with the images, trying to improvise a story with each object that popped up on the tablet screen.
The man in a black suit… went to the windmill?
And in the windmill he… found a flock of sheep. Okay, so he was actually a manager for the mill, and the sheep were workers on a break. As a reward for hard work, the manager gave each of them a… butterknife? Woah, okay, so the manager was actually inciting the sheep to revolt against their oppressors. The oppressors that were forcing the sheep to work were… mongooses… mongeese?
The story unfurled itself, on and on, sometimes needing the occasional reset. Logan did his best to keep his neurons activated for this experiment. He kept going and going and going, persevering and relentless. To his credit, he managed to keep his focus most of the time, but as the process dragged on, his focus wavered more and more. The ideas were less creative, the mental image grew blurry, and the plot moved slower. Logan tried to pull himself back into the groove, but his descent was inevitable at this point. His mind grew dimmer and dimmer, a dark fog growing thicker and more impenetrable until the last candle flame of thought flickered out, and nothing remained.
…
…
…
Ryan checked up on Logan, looking over at him slightly slumped in his chair. His head was slightly tilted to the side and his eyes were closed. Must’ve dozed off. She had already noticed that Logan was struggling to stay awake for some time. Unfortunately, any stimulant like coffee could affect the experiment, so Ryan would have to wake him up everytime he nodded off.
Ryan got up and walked over to Logan, shaking him by the shoulder.
“Logan? Logan wake up.”
No response. She shook him harder. Nothing. She lightly tapped him on the cheek. Still nothing. She carefully opened his eyelid. Logan’s eye blankly stared back at her. Ryan felt a wave of dread flood through her. Logan? Logan!
…
…
…
Ryan had done everything that she could. Logan was unconscious when she found him. She had immediately called for help, and he was rushed to the hospital by paramedics. She was in shock. What happened? What caused this? Was it the experiment? Impossible. But the timing… Healthy young men like him don’t just… stop, not like this.
Ryan knew that she was screwed. Even if it somehow wasn’t her fault, there was no way that SynthraForma would overlook all the attention she was bringing in.
Ryan sat in her little corner of the lab, feeling hollowed out like an empty shell. Her eyes drifted to Logan’s empty chair. He was just there, not long ago, healthy and energetic.
The prototype EEG laid on the floor nearby, still in the same place that it landed after
Ryan had yanked it off of Logan’s head when trying to wake him. Ryan knew that the prototype EEG and neuron growth promoter would cast a lot of suspicion on the situation, but hiding or destroying evidence would practically be an admission of guilt. Ryan knew that there was a good chance that the experiment had nothing to do with Logan’s sudden decline, and that it was just a coincidence. But there was no way for her to know. She’d have to wait to hear from the hospital, or the police.
While Ryan was sitting, sorting through her thoughts, her supervisor Doctor Li showed up.
“I’m sure you’re shaken by all of this. Go home. I’ll give you a call if we need anything from you. Don’t even think about coming to work until you’ve fully recovered from this shocking incident, okay?”
Ryan didn’t want to respond, she didn’t even make eye contact. She just continued sitting with her head hung as Doctor Li promptly left. When Ryan heard the sound of the lab door closing, she raised her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tank of slugs. A sudden rush of heat filled her body as she felt a fierce hatred towards them. Stupid fucking slugs! She wanted to get a hammer and smash the tank, crushing the pathetic little bastards.
But she restrained herself. She just glared at them, cursing their very existence. Freaks of nature. She got up from her seat, deciding that the privacy of her apartment would indeed be better than sulking in the lab. She reached over and grabbed her white lab coat. She had taken it off earlier while trying to help Logan.
Ryan stuck her left arm through its sleeve before draping it over her back and filling out the other sleeve. As she left the lab, Ryan was completely unaware of the little green hitchhiker in her lab coat’s pocket.
Recalibration
Dark…
Familiar… smell… Rough… all over…
Where…?
…
Hungry…
Move…
Need to move…
That way…
…
In the darkest hours of the night, a little green slug crawled out of a lab coat pocket thrown on top of a laundry basket. Confused and disoriented, it did the only thing that it could, follow its instincts.
Delicate slivers of moonlight leaked through the thin blinds of the bedroom. The room wasn’t particularly messy or clean, just lived-in. There were two beds opposite to each other in this small space. The plucky little slug crawled along the floor, inch by inch, towards the bed on the right.
Progress was slow, but steady. A few inches every minute. The slug finally reached the foot of the bed and began its journey upwards. It climbed against gravity, leaving a shiny trail of slime behind on the wood. After a few minutes, the unyielding green spelunker reached the top of the bed, where a sleeping beauty lay enveloped in a peaceful slumber. Her chest periodically rose and fell as silent breaths came and went.
The slug continued, crawling onto the sheets of the bed, eventually making its way onto the pillow. The slug’s small, pulsating body made the insidious last legs of its journey as it aimed for a small opening.
The slug touched the sleeping woman’s skin, feeling her warmth as it began to climb the side of her neck. She didn’t even stir. The slug climbed closer, closer, until it reached… the entrance. The slug dipped itself into her ear, pushing its head in and quickly filling the small tunnel’s width. The slug squeezed its malleable body into the small space, crawling deeper and deeper and deeper…
The woman stirred a little. A small readjustment of the body in response to mild discomfort. A light groan escaped her lips, as if she was just having a bad dream. There was no way to know that something was entering her… invading her… burrowing deep deep inside. She would undoubtedly panic if she was awake, if she knew what was happening to her, but it was just the slug’s luck that she was deep asleep, that she was defenseless.
Deep inside her head, the slug finally felt… satisfaction. It had reached its destination. Now, it could rest, just for a little. The woman’s body settled back down, returning to its restful state. Her breathing returned to a slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. The only thing amiss was a small trail of dried slug fluid.
mtf
+7 more
2
12.9K
861
3
7
Inspired by a comic.
Silas possesses a metaphysical ability known as Soul Partitioning, allowing him to excise a fragment of his own consciousness and project it into a host's mind through direct ocular contact. This "hit" doesn't merely brainwash the victim; it effectively overwrites their core identity with his own, causing them to experience a total shift in self-perception where they believe they are Silas.
'Its cold! Come inside!' she said, her voice bright and welcoming. Rachel stepped aside to let Silas in.
Silas stood in the foyer, while Rachel closed the door with a click that sounded far too final.
"Make yourself at home," she said, her voice carrying a devilish smirk that twisted her features into something predatory and sharp. It was a look Rachel had never worn in her life.
She began to pace the hallway, but her gait was wrong. She moved with a heavy, masculine confidence, her hips swinging not out of grace, but as if she were testing the weight and balance of a new machine. As she spoke, her hands began to wander. She traced the curve of her own waist, her fingers digging into the soft flesh with an intense curiosity.
"It’s a nice place, isn't it?" she asked, though she wasn't looking at the decor. Her hand slid upward, her palm cupping her boobs through the thin fabric of her blouse. She squeezed, her eyes widening slightly as if the sensation were a foreign transmission. "Soft. I could get used to this."
She didn't wait for him to answer. She was already walking toward the sideboard in the dining room, pointing out a heavy silver tray.
"The silverware is genuine Georgian. Worth a fortune," she noted casually, her fingers now tracing the line of her collarbone. "The jewelry safe is behind the landscape painting in the study. Code is 0-4-1-2. My birthday. Or... her birthday, anyway."
The incongruity was sickening. To any passerby, she was a housewife giving a tour; to Silas, she was a victim meticulously betraying herself. She leaned against the wall, her legs crossing in a way that made her skirt hike up, and she stared at the skin of her thighs with the wonder of a child holding a new toy.
"Her husband, Mark, isn't here, obviously," she said, a bitter, Silas-like edge creeping into her tone. "He’s in Chicago. Business. Again. He’s always 'working,' always elsewhere." She let out a dry, jagged laugh, her hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling at her own hair to feel the tension on the scalp. "You want to know a secret, Silas? The last time we actually had sex was three months ago. Pathetic, right? I’m standing here in a body this... functional... and it’s just sitting here, gathering dust while he's at a Marriott in the Midwest."
She looked down at her hands, flexed them, and then looked back at him with a chilling intimacy. She was baring Rachel’s deepest, most private frustrations to a man she had met thirty seconds ago, yet she spoke with the total lack of shame one has when talking to oneself in a mirror.
"I feel so... empty," she whispered, her fingers grazing her lips. "But not anymore. Now that you're here, I finally feel like I’ve woken up."
*
A few moments ago...
The neighborhood was quiet—the kind of quiet that makes a lone footstep sound like a threat. Silas stopped in front of the cream-colored colonial, his shadow stretching long across the manicured lawn. He reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Inside, the muffled chime was followed by a heavy silence. Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of someone approaching.
The door didn't swing wide. It opened barely three inches, abruptly halted by the metallic snap of a security chain. Rachel peered through the gap, her face framed by the dark wood. Her posture was stiff, her hand visible on the edge of the door, knuckles white with tension. She was alone, and the sight of a strange man on her porch at this hour sent a visible ripple of unease through her.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice tight, barely a whisper. "Can I help you?"
Silas didn't answer immediately. He didn't need to. He stood perfectly still, letting his gaze lock onto hers through the narrow opening. He looked past the iris, past the pupil, searching for her very soul.
Then, it happened.
There was no sound, no flash of light. A fragment of his very essence, cold and sharp as a needle, surged forward. It didn't travel through the air like a physical object; it bypassed the space between them entirely. It left his eyes as a shimmering distortion, a microscopic ripple in reality that hit Rachel’s retinas with the force of a psychic collision.
Rachel didn't scream. She couldn't.
For a heartbeat, her world went gray. The "blur" hit her with a total desynchronization of her senses. Her brain tried to reject the intruder, but the fragment of Silas was already burrowing, weaving itself into her neural pathways, claiming her mind as its own. Rachel's eyes were momentarily blurred, just for a split second, as if her focus had snagged on something invisible. Then, they cleared, snapping back to a sharp, vivid clarity. A warm, unearned familiarity washed over her features.
Her grip on the door softened. The fear that had been radiating from her just a second ago didn't just vanish—it was rewritten into a soft and gracious smile. Slowly, her fingers moved to the chain. With a steady, rhythmic clink, she slid the bolt out of the track.
She opened the door wide, her expression shifting from a guarded mask to that unnatural, devilish smirk. She looked at him—man to man, soul to soul—even though she was trapped in the skin of a woman he had just broken.
*
Back to present...
I watched her—or rather, I watched myself—move through Rachel’s home with a thief’s appreciation and a conqueror’s pride. Her confession hung in the air between us, a raw, intimate truth that belonged to her, but was now mine to dissect.
“Gathering dust,” I echoed, my voice low. “A shame. Such a well-made machine should be running at full capacity.”
“Shouldn’t it?” she agreed, pushing herself off the wall. That predatory grin returned, but it was edged with something new—a hungry curiosity. “Come on. The tour isn’t finished. The best part’s upstairs.”
She led the way, her hand trailing up the polished banister. I followed, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. From behind, I could see the way her spine was held too straight, the set of her shoulders too broad for the delicate frame she inhabited. It was like watching a marionette controlled by a puppeteer who’d only read about human movement in a manual.
She paused at the top of the stairs, glancing back at me. “Her memories are… interesting. Like watching a very dull movie about someone else’s life. But the sensory data? The physical feedback? Oh, man... that’s the real prize.”
As she spoke, her hands came up to the buttons of her blouse. Without breaking eye contact, she began to undo them, one by one. The fabric parted, revealing a lace-edged bra and the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. “For example,” she said, her voice a clinical murmur. “The weight. We knew her breasts had weight, intellectually, just from looking. But feeling them pull, this constant, gentle anchor… it’s fascinating. And the sensitivity. Amazing.”
Her fingertips brushed over the lace covering her left nipple. A sharp, shuddering breath escaped her lips—Rachel’s lips. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second before snapping open, locked on mine. “See? A direct line. No filter. It’s all just… input.”
She turned and walked down the hallway, leaving her blouse hanging open. I followed her into the master bedroom. It was a spacious, airy room done in creams and soft blues. A large, neatly made bed dominated the space. A wedding photo in a silver frame sat on the nightstand—Rachel beaming, her husband Mark’s arm around her, both of them looking like a catalog for suburban bliss.
She went straight to it, picking up the frame. She studied the image with a tilted head, a faint frown on her face. “He looks earnest,” she said, her tone flat. “In her memories, he’s kind. Distant, but kind. She loved that. She mistook absence for stability. Too bad that she isn't here anymore. Hehe. ” She set the frame face down with a soft click. “Silly.”
Abandoning the blouse entirely, she let it slide off her shoulders to pool on the carpet. She stood there in her skirt and bra, her arms crossed over her chest, surveying the room as if it were a hotel suite. “This is where the neglect happened. Right here.” She walked to the bed and sat on the edge, bouncing slightly to test the mattress. “Firm. Good for his back, apparently. Not that it mattered.”
She lay back, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back off the comforter. The movement pushed her chest forward, and she let out a soft, experimental sigh. “She used to lie here,” she said, her voice drifting, almost dreamy as she tapped into Rachel’s stored experiences. “She’d stare at the ceiling and count the minutes until he’d come to bed. Sometimes he would, sometimes he wouldn’t. When he did, he’d just roll over and go to sleep. She’d listen to him breathe and feel this… hollowness. This ache. Aaaah” a moan escaped her lips.
One of her hands slid down from above her head, over the flat plane of her stomach, to the waistband of her skirt. Her fingers toyed with the zipper. “This body ached for him. For anyone. For something to fill that quiet.” She looked at me, her eyes dark and knowing. “But I’m not aching anymore. Now, I’m just… curious.”
She didn’t just open the zipper. She sat up slowly, sinuously, and turned to face me where I stood. Holding my gaze, she brought her other hand to the clasp at the side of her skirt. With a deliberate, tantalizing slowness, she undid it. The zipper gave way with a hushed, metallic whisper that seemed amplified in the quiet room. Then, still watching me, she wriggled her hips, pushing the skirt down over her thighs with a roll of her pelvis that was pure, calculated provocation. She kicked it away.
Now she knelt on the bed in just her bra and panties, her skin glowing. She wasn’t just lying back; she was presenting herself. “The curiosity is the best part,” she whispered, her hands sliding up her own thighs, past her hips, to cradle the curve of her waist. “It’s not her hunger. It’s mine. What does this body feel like when it’s touched? Not by a bored husband, but by an owner who’s truly interested in its functions?”
Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties. She peeled them down, an inch at a time, revealing the neat thatch of dark hair beneath. With a final, dismissive flick, the cotton joined the pile on the floor.
But she wasn’t done. The bra was next. She reached behind her back, her movements fluid, her eyes never leaving mine. She found the clasp, fumbled for a second with a show of mock-inexperience that was itself a lie—a seductress playing at innocence. The clasp released. She let the straps slide down her shoulders, but didn’t remove it yet. She cupped her breasts through the lace, lifting them, weighing them in her palms as if offering them to me.
“So sensitive,” she breathed, her thumbs brushing over her own nipples, which hardened instantly under the fabric. A soft gasp escaped her, but her smile was one of triumph. “Every nerve is a live wire. And they’re all mine to play with.”
Then, with a slow, theatrical shrug, she let the bra fall forward. It caught for a moment on the peaks of her breasts before she pulled it away entirely and let it drop. Now she was completely naked, kneeling before me like a offering and a conqueror both.
“Come here,” she commanded, but this time her voice was a low, smoky purr. It was my own voice, yes, but warped into something unbearably sensual. “Let’s see what this suite is capable of. Let’s test every single function.”
I approached the bed. She watched me, a panther assessing its prey. When I stood beside her, she didn’t reach for my hand. Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the fly of my trousers. I felt her breath, hot through the fabric. Her head tilted back, her eyes gleaming up at me. “The curiosity is… becoming a need,” she confessed, her voice thick.
Her hands came up, not to guide, but to claim. She unbuckled my belt with a sharp, practiced tug. The zipper came down with a rasp that echoed in the room. Her cool fingers wrapped around me, and she let out that low, appreciative hum—a sound that vibrated through her and into me. “A much better fit for this emptiness than his pathetic, distracted affection ever was.”
Then she moved, a fluid surge of power. Her hand shot to the back of my neck, and she pulled me down onto the bed with her. We landed in a heap, but she was already rolling, reversing our positions with a strength that was shocking. In an instant she was straddling my hips, her knees digging into the mattress, her naked body poised above mine. The wedding photo frame rattled violently on the nightstand.
She looked down at me, her hair a dark curtain around her face. That seductive, knowing smile was gone, replaced by something raw and ravenous. “She would never,” she growled, and the word was guttural, animal. She ground herself against me, the slick heat of her scorching even through my trousers. “She’d want the lights off. She’d be thinking about the goddamn dishwasher.” She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips a breath from mine. “But I want to see everything. I want to feel everything.”
With a brutal yank, she finished undressing me, pushing my trousers and boxers down my hips. Her cool hand wrapped around me again, stroking once, twice, a possessive claim. Then she positioned me at her entrance.
She didn’t sink down. She impaled herself.
In one fierce, relentless motion, she took me in to the hilt. Her head snapped back, and a raw, snarling cry was torn from her throat—a sound of violent victory. Her inner muscles clenched around me in a vicious, welcoming spasm.
“Oh, Gosh,” she groaned, but it was a snarl of conquest. She began to move, not with rhythm, but with a frantic, devouring hunger. Her hips pistoned, driving herself down onto me with a force that made the bedframe slam against the wall. Her hands braced on my chest, her nails digging in, drawing half-moons of sharp pleasure-pain.
“This!” she cried out, her voice breaking with each punishing thrust. “This is what it was for! Not for quiet! Not for waiting! For this!”
She was a frenzy above me, a storm of stolen sensation. Her back arched, her body a taut bowstring. She reached between her own legs, her fingers working her clit with a furious, desperate rhythm that matched the savage rocking of her hips. The sounds she made were not moans, but growls—primal, uninhibited, echoing in the violated bedroom.
“Look at me!” she demanded, her eyes wild, her face flushed with a depraved ecstasy. “Look at what you’re making me do! In her bed! On her sheets!”
She rode me with a brutality that was breathtaking. She leaned back, using her hands on my thighs for leverage, driving herself down again and again, taking everything. The headboard hammered the wall in a staccato drumbeat of their collision.
“She’d die of shame!” she panted, a wild, delirious laugh breaking through her gasps. “But I… I’ve never been more alive!”
Her movements lost all finesse, becoming a jagged, desperate chase for release. Her inner muscles fluttered and clenched in frantic, milking waves. Her breaths came in sharp, sobbing hitches.
“I’m… I’m gonna… now!” she screamed.
Her orgasm wasn’t a cresting wave; it was a detonation. It was a seismic event that racked her entire body. Her entire body seized, convulsing around me. She threw her head back and howled—a loud, uninhibited, house-shaking sound of pure, selfish triumph. Her hips jerked erratically as she ground herself against me, milking her own climax and mine with a greedy, relentless intensity.
As the last tremors shook her, she collapsed forward onto my chest, her sweat-slick body shuddering against mine, her breath hot and ragged in my ear. She nuzzled into my neck, her lips brushing my skin with deliberate, lingering kisses. After a moment, she lifted her head, a look of profound, conspiratorial satisfaction on her face—but now it was edged with a new, sly awareness.
She had filled the void not with gentle exploration, but with a raw, primal conquest that left the very air in the room crackling with spent energy. Yet, as the frenzy faded, a different electricity took its place: the cool, calculated current of a seductress surveying her domain.
She shifted, rolling off of me and onto her back, but she didn’t just stare at the ceiling. She stretched, a long, feline extension of her limbs that made her breasts rise and her stomach tauten, a living exhibit of her own stolen beauty. Her hand came up, trailing through the damp hair at her temple, and as it did, the overhead light caught the gold band on her finger.
She went very still, her eyes fixing on the wedding ring. A slow, deeply seductive smile spread across her lips—not just satisfied, but deliciously cruel.
“Oh, look,” she purred, her voice a throaty whisper. She raised her hand, turning it so the ring glinted. “Mark had to court me for weeks until I let him kiss me. Months until our first night.” She dropped her hand to my chest, her fingers splaying possessively over my heart. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto mine, gleaming with mischief. “And now you just came to the door… and came inside me, mister.” She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “That’s not fair to poor old Mark. Not fair at all.”
She traced a nail down the center of my chest. “He was always so… careful. So worried about doing things right.” Her voice dropped to a confidential murmur. “He’d ask if I was comfortable. If the pressure was okay. It was like making love to a user manual.” Her hand slid lower, over my stomach, her touch feather-light and incendiary. “But you… you didn’t ask. You just took. And you knew exactly how to make this body sing.”
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. The other hand continued its idle exploration of my arm, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle. “He thought patience was a virtue. All that waiting.” She smirked. “He never realized that what this vessel really needed wasn’t patience… it was someone with the confidence to just claim it.” Her eyes drifted to the overturned wedding photo. “His touches were like whispers. Yours?” She leaned close, her breath warm against my ear. “Yours are declarations. And my body… her body… understands the difference perfectly.”
She let out a contented, utterly wicked sigh and settled back against the rumpled sheets—sheets that now bore the indelible, intimate stain of her total betrayal, performed not just with a smile, but with a poet’s cruel flair for comparison.
“No hollowness now,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping over me with open ownership. “Just you. It feels… perfect.” She lifted her ring hand again, studying it as if it were a curious artifact. “I really should send him a thank you note. For being so… inadequate. He left everything so perfectly primed for a real man to finally use.”
*
Silas lay there for a few minutes more, listening to the ragged sound of her breathing slowly even out. The room smelled of sex and salt and a strange, metallic triumph. Finally, he shifted, disentangling himself from the damp sheets and her limp, sated limbs.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The air felt cool on his skin. Without a word, he began to gather his clothes from the floor. Each movement was methodical, practiced: stepping into his boxer-briefs, pulling up his trousers, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room. He fastened his belt with a definitive click. The entire process was one of reclamation, of re-armoring. He was becoming a stranger in this room again, while the woman on the bed remained the stark, naked evidence of the violation.
Rachel propped herself up on her elbows, watching him dress with a lazy, affectionate smile. She made no move to cover herself. Her nakedness was casual, unselfconscious, a state of being she now shared with him as effortlessly as a thought.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice husky. There was a pout in it, but it was theatrical. She already knew the plan. She was part of it.“Business before pleasure,” Silas said, his voice back to its normal, controlled timbre as he pulled his shirt on. “We have an appointment with a safe.”
“Right, right,” she sighed, stretching like a cat. She slid off the bed, her bare feet hitting the carpet without a sound. She stood before him, utterly exposed, and reached up to fix his collar, her touch proprietary. “The jewels. Can’t forget those.”
The incongruity was almost laughable. Here was a woman, naked and still glistening from being thoroughly fucked by an intruder, fussing over his shirt before leading him to rob her own home. She took his hand, her fingers lacing through his with a wifely familiarity that would have made the real Rachel vomit, and guided him out of the desecrated bedroom.
She walked ahead of him, down the stairs, her naked body a pale beacon in the dim hallway. She moved with total assurance, as if this were the most natural way to host a guest. In the study, she went directly to the large landscape painting—a tasteful watercolor of a lake at dusk—and swung it aside on its hinges as easily as if she were opening a cupboard. Behind it was a sleek, modern wall safe.
“0-4-1-2,” she recited, tapping the digital keypad. The light turned green with a soft beep. She pulled the heavy door open.
Inside, velvet trays glimmered under the recessed light. Diamond studs, a pearl necklace, an emerald-cut ruby pendant on a platinum chain, a man’s Rolex, stacks of bonds, and bundles of cash.
“Her favorite was the pearls,” she mused, picking up the strand and letting them cascade through her fingers. “A wedding gift from Mark’s mother. She always felt they were too old for her.” She dropped them carelessly into the leather duffel bag Silas had produced from his jacket. She followed them with the ruby, the watch, the cash. She worked with the efficiency of a seasoned thief, her nakedness making the act not sensual, but surreal—a brutal, obscene practicality.
When the safe was empty and the duffel bag full, she closed the safe door and swung the painting back into place, giving it a little pat. “There. All tidy.”
She turned to him, still gloriously, unabashedly nude in the middle of her burglarized study. She placed her hands on his chest, looking up at him with that adoring, complicit smile. “A productive visit.”
Silas leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. She melted into it, her arms sliding around his neck, her body pressing against the rough fabric of his clothes. It was the kiss of a lover seeing her partner off on a trip, full of promise and intimate knowledge.
He broke the kiss, his hand cupping her cheek for a moment. “Until next time,” he murmured, a lie that felt like truth in the charged air.
“I’ll be here,” she whispered back, her eyes shining with his own reflected cunning.
He shouldered the duffel bag, and let himself out the front door. She stood in the doorway, a nude silhouette against the warm light of the foyer, and waved, that seductive smile still playing on her lips until he disappeared into the darkness of the front walk.
Silas walked. The bag was heavy. He turned a corner, then another, putting blocks between himself and the cream-colored colonial. The night air was crisp, clearing the scent of her perfume and their sweat from his lungs.
He was three blocks away, under the stark glow of a streetlamp, when he felt it.
It was a sudden, silent snap, like the release of a tension he hadn't fully acknowledged. A chill, sharper than the night air, rushed up his spine and settled behind his eyes. It was the return—the fragment of his own consciousness, saturated with the sensory memory of soft skin and stolen pleasure and the thrilling, hollow ache of Rachel’s body, now flowing back into the well of his soul. A faint, ghostly echo of her final, contented sigh whispered in the back of his mind before fading into nothing.
He paused, absorbing the totality of himself once more. The partition was closed. The connection severed.
Back in the house, Rachel would be waking up on the floor of her house, naked, confused, with a dull ache between her legs and a terrifying, inexplicable gap in her memory. The safe would be empty. The taste of a stranger’s kiss on her lips, his cum leaking between her legs, and no understanding of how any of it had happened.
Silas adjusted the weight of the duffel bag and continued his walk, a quiet, profound satisfaction humming in his veins.
Silas possesses a metaphysical ability known as Soul Partitioning, allowing him to excise a fragment of his own consciousness and project it into a host's mind through direct ocular contact. This "hit" doesn't merely brainwash the victim; it effectively overwrites their core identity with his own, causing them to experience a total shift in self-perception where they believe they are Silas.
'Its cold! Come inside!' she said, her voice bright and welcoming. Rachel stepped aside to let Silas in.
Silas stood in the foyer, while Rachel closed the door with a click that sounded far too final.
"Make yourself at home," she said, her voice carrying a devilish smirk that twisted her features into something predatory and sharp. It was a look Rachel had never worn in her life.
She began to pace the hallway, but her gait was wrong. She moved with a heavy, masculine confidence, her hips swinging not out of grace, but as if she were testing the weight and balance of a new machine. As she spoke, her hands began to wander. She traced the curve of her own waist, her fingers digging into the soft flesh with an intense curiosity.
"It’s a nice place, isn't it?" she asked, though she wasn't looking at the decor. Her hand slid upward, her palm cupping her boobs through the thin fabric of her blouse. She squeezed, her eyes widening slightly as if the sensation were a foreign transmission. "Soft. I could get used to this."
She didn't wait for him to answer. She was already walking toward the sideboard in the dining room, pointing out a heavy silver tray.
"The silverware is genuine Georgian. Worth a fortune," she noted casually, her fingers now tracing the line of her collarbone. "The jewelry safe is behind the landscape painting in the study. Code is 0-4-1-2. My birthday. Or... her birthday, anyway."
The incongruity was sickening. To any passerby, she was a housewife giving a tour; to Silas, she was a victim meticulously betraying herself. She leaned against the wall, her legs crossing in a way that made her skirt hike up, and she stared at the skin of her thighs with the wonder of a child holding a new toy.
"Her husband, Mark, isn't here, obviously," she said, a bitter, Silas-like edge creeping into her tone. "He’s in Chicago. Business. Again. He’s always 'working,' always elsewhere." She let out a dry, jagged laugh, her hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling at her own hair to feel the tension on the scalp. "You want to know a secret, Silas? The last time we actually had sex was three months ago. Pathetic, right? I’m standing here in a body this... functional... and it’s just sitting here, gathering dust while he's at a Marriott in the Midwest."
She looked down at her hands, flexed them, and then looked back at him with a chilling intimacy. She was baring Rachel’s deepest, most private frustrations to a man she had met thirty seconds ago, yet she spoke with the total lack of shame one has when talking to oneself in a mirror.
"I feel so... empty," she whispered, her fingers grazing her lips. "But not anymore. Now that you're here, I finally feel like I’ve woken up."
*
A few moments ago...
The neighborhood was quiet—the kind of quiet that makes a lone footstep sound like a threat. Silas stopped in front of the cream-colored colonial, his shadow stretching long across the manicured lawn. He reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Inside, the muffled chime was followed by a heavy silence. Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of someone approaching.
The door didn't swing wide. It opened barely three inches, abruptly halted by the metallic snap of a security chain. Rachel peered through the gap, her face framed by the dark wood. Her posture was stiff, her hand visible on the edge of the door, knuckles white with tension. She was alone, and the sight of a strange man on her porch at this hour sent a visible ripple of unease through her.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice tight, barely a whisper. "Can I help you?"
Silas didn't answer immediately. He didn't need to. He stood perfectly still, letting his gaze lock onto hers through the narrow opening. He looked past the iris, past the pupil, searching for her very soul.
Then, it happened.
There was no sound, no flash of light. A fragment of his very essence, cold and sharp as a needle, surged forward. It didn't travel through the air like a physical object; it bypassed the space between them entirely. It left his eyes as a shimmering distortion, a microscopic ripple in reality that hit Rachel’s retinas with the force of a psychic collision.
Rachel didn't scream. She couldn't.
For a heartbeat, her world went gray. The "blur" hit her with a total desynchronization of her senses. Her brain tried to reject the intruder, but the fragment of Silas was already burrowing, weaving itself into her neural pathways, claiming her mind as its own. Rachel's eyes were momentarily blurred, just for a split second, as if her focus had snagged on something invisible. Then, they cleared, snapping back to a sharp, vivid clarity. A warm, unearned familiarity washed over her features.
Her grip on the door softened. The fear that had been radiating from her just a second ago didn't just vanish—it was rewritten into a soft and gracious smile. Slowly, her fingers moved to the chain. With a steady, rhythmic clink, she slid the bolt out of the track.
She opened the door wide, her expression shifting from a guarded mask to that unnatural, devilish smirk. She looked at him—man to man, soul to soul—even though she was trapped in the skin of a woman he had just broken.
*
Back to present...
I watched her—or rather, I watched myself—move through Rachel’s home with a thief’s appreciation and a conqueror’s pride. Her confession hung in the air between us, a raw, intimate truth that belonged to her, but was now mine to dissect.
“Gathering dust,” I echoed, my voice low. “A shame. Such a well-made machine should be running at full capacity.”
“Shouldn’t it?” she agreed, pushing herself off the wall. That predatory grin returned, but it was edged with something new—a hungry curiosity. “Come on. The tour isn’t finished. The best part’s upstairs.”
She led the way, her hand trailing up the polished banister. I followed, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. From behind, I could see the way her spine was held too straight, the set of her shoulders too broad for the delicate frame she inhabited. It was like watching a marionette controlled by a puppeteer who’d only read about human movement in a manual.
She paused at the top of the stairs, glancing back at me. “Her memories are… interesting. Like watching a very dull movie about someone else’s life. But the sensory data? The physical feedback? Oh, man... that’s the real prize.”
As she spoke, her hands came up to the buttons of her blouse. Without breaking eye contact, she began to undo them, one by one. The fabric parted, revealing a lace-edged bra and the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. “For example,” she said, her voice a clinical murmur. “The weight. We knew her breasts had weight, intellectually, just from looking. But feeling them pull, this constant, gentle anchor… it’s fascinating. And the sensitivity. Amazing.”
Her fingertips brushed over the lace covering her left nipple. A sharp, shuddering breath escaped her lips—Rachel’s lips. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second before snapping open, locked on mine. “See? A direct line. No filter. It’s all just… input.”
She turned and walked down the hallway, leaving her blouse hanging open. I followed her into the master bedroom. It was a spacious, airy room done in creams and soft blues. A large, neatly made bed dominated the space. A wedding photo in a silver frame sat on the nightstand—Rachel beaming, her husband Mark’s arm around her, both of them looking like a catalog for suburban bliss.
She went straight to it, picking up the frame. She studied the image with a tilted head, a faint frown on her face. “He looks earnest,” she said, her tone flat. “In her memories, he’s kind. Distant, but kind. She loved that. She mistook absence for stability. Too bad that she isn't here anymore. Hehe. ” She set the frame face down with a soft click. “Silly.”
Abandoning the blouse entirely, she let it slide off her shoulders to pool on the carpet. She stood there in her skirt and bra, her arms crossed over her chest, surveying the room as if it were a hotel suite. “This is where the neglect happened. Right here.” She walked to the bed and sat on the edge, bouncing slightly to test the mattress. “Firm. Good for his back, apparently. Not that it mattered.”
She lay back, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back off the comforter. The movement pushed her chest forward, and she let out a soft, experimental sigh. “She used to lie here,” she said, her voice drifting, almost dreamy as she tapped into Rachel’s stored experiences. “She’d stare at the ceiling and count the minutes until he’d come to bed. Sometimes he would, sometimes he wouldn’t. When he did, he’d just roll over and go to sleep. She’d listen to him breathe and feel this… hollowness. This ache. Aaaah” a moan escaped her lips.
One of her hands slid down from above her head, over the flat plane of her stomach, to the waistband of her skirt. Her fingers toyed with the zipper. “This body ached for him. For anyone. For something to fill that quiet.” She looked at me, her eyes dark and knowing. “But I’m not aching anymore. Now, I’m just… curious.”
She didn’t just open the zipper. She sat up slowly, sinuously, and turned to face me where I stood. Holding my gaze, she brought her other hand to the clasp at the side of her skirt. With a deliberate, tantalizing slowness, she undid it. The zipper gave way with a hushed, metallic whisper that seemed amplified in the quiet room. Then, still watching me, she wriggled her hips, pushing the skirt down over her thighs with a roll of her pelvis that was pure, calculated provocation. She kicked it away.
Now she knelt on the bed in just her bra and panties, her skin glowing. She wasn’t just lying back; she was presenting herself. “The curiosity is the best part,” she whispered, her hands sliding up her own thighs, past her hips, to cradle the curve of her waist. “It’s not her hunger. It’s mine. What does this body feel like when it’s touched? Not by a bored husband, but by an owner who’s truly interested in its functions?”
Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties. She peeled them down, an inch at a time, revealing the neat thatch of dark hair beneath. With a final, dismissive flick, the cotton joined the pile on the floor.
But she wasn’t done. The bra was next. She reached behind her back, her movements fluid, her eyes never leaving mine. She found the clasp, fumbled for a second with a show of mock-inexperience that was itself a lie—a seductress playing at innocence. The clasp released. She let the straps slide down her shoulders, but didn’t remove it yet. She cupped her breasts through the lace, lifting them, weighing them in her palms as if offering them to me.
“So sensitive,” she breathed, her thumbs brushing over her own nipples, which hardened instantly under the fabric. A soft gasp escaped her, but her smile was one of triumph. “Every nerve is a live wire. And they’re all mine to play with.”
Then, with a slow, theatrical shrug, she let the bra fall forward. It caught for a moment on the peaks of her breasts before she pulled it away entirely and let it drop. Now she was completely naked, kneeling before me like a offering and a conqueror both.
“Come here,” she commanded, but this time her voice was a low, smoky purr. It was my own voice, yes, but warped into something unbearably sensual. “Let’s see what this suite is capable of. Let’s test every single function.”
I approached the bed. She watched me, a panther assessing its prey. When I stood beside her, she didn’t reach for my hand. Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the fly of my trousers. I felt her breath, hot through the fabric. Her head tilted back, her eyes gleaming up at me. “The curiosity is… becoming a need,” she confessed, her voice thick.
Her hands came up, not to guide, but to claim. She unbuckled my belt with a sharp, practiced tug. The zipper came down with a rasp that echoed in the room. Her cool fingers wrapped around me, and she let out that low, appreciative hum—a sound that vibrated through her and into me. “A much better fit for this emptiness than his pathetic, distracted affection ever was.”
Then she moved, a fluid surge of power. Her hand shot to the back of my neck, and she pulled me down onto the bed with her. We landed in a heap, but she was already rolling, reversing our positions with a strength that was shocking. In an instant she was straddling my hips, her knees digging into the mattress, her naked body poised above mine. The wedding photo frame rattled violently on the nightstand.
She looked down at me, her hair a dark curtain around her face. That seductive, knowing smile was gone, replaced by something raw and ravenous. “She would never,” she growled, and the word was guttural, animal. She ground herself against me, the slick heat of her scorching even through my trousers. “She’d want the lights off. She’d be thinking about the goddamn dishwasher.” She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips a breath from mine. “But I want to see everything. I want to feel everything.”
With a brutal yank, she finished undressing me, pushing my trousers and boxers down my hips. Her cool hand wrapped around me again, stroking once, twice, a possessive claim. Then she positioned me at her entrance.
She didn’t sink down. She impaled herself.
In one fierce, relentless motion, she took me in to the hilt. Her head snapped back, and a raw, snarling cry was torn from her throat—a sound of violent victory. Her inner muscles clenched around me in a vicious, welcoming spasm.
“Oh, Gosh,” she groaned, but it was a snarl of conquest. She began to move, not with rhythm, but with a frantic, devouring hunger. Her hips pistoned, driving herself down onto me with a force that made the bedframe slam against the wall. Her hands braced on my chest, her nails digging in, drawing half-moons of sharp pleasure-pain.
“This!” she cried out, her voice breaking with each punishing thrust. “This is what it was for! Not for quiet! Not for waiting! For this!”
She was a frenzy above me, a storm of stolen sensation. Her back arched, her body a taut bowstring. She reached between her own legs, her fingers working her clit with a furious, desperate rhythm that matched the savage rocking of her hips. The sounds she made were not moans, but growls—primal, uninhibited, echoing in the violated bedroom.
“Look at me!” she demanded, her eyes wild, her face flushed with a depraved ecstasy. “Look at what you’re making me do! In her bed! On her sheets!”
She rode me with a brutality that was breathtaking. She leaned back, using her hands on my thighs for leverage, driving herself down again and again, taking everything. The headboard hammered the wall in a staccato drumbeat of their collision.
“She’d die of shame!” she panted, a wild, delirious laugh breaking through her gasps. “But I… I’ve never been more alive!”
Her movements lost all finesse, becoming a jagged, desperate chase for release. Her inner muscles fluttered and clenched in frantic, milking waves. Her breaths came in sharp, sobbing hitches.
“I’m… I’m gonna… now!” she screamed.
Her orgasm wasn’t a cresting wave; it was a detonation. It was a seismic event that racked her entire body. Her entire body seized, convulsing around me. She threw her head back and howled—a loud, uninhibited, house-shaking sound of pure, selfish triumph. Her hips jerked erratically as she ground herself against me, milking her own climax and mine with a greedy, relentless intensity.
As the last tremors shook her, she collapsed forward onto my chest, her sweat-slick body shuddering against mine, her breath hot and ragged in my ear. She nuzzled into my neck, her lips brushing my skin with deliberate, lingering kisses. After a moment, she lifted her head, a look of profound, conspiratorial satisfaction on her face—but now it was edged with a new, sly awareness.
She had filled the void not with gentle exploration, but with a raw, primal conquest that left the very air in the room crackling with spent energy. Yet, as the frenzy faded, a different electricity took its place: the cool, calculated current of a seductress surveying her domain.
She shifted, rolling off of me and onto her back, but she didn’t just stare at the ceiling. She stretched, a long, feline extension of her limbs that made her breasts rise and her stomach tauten, a living exhibit of her own stolen beauty. Her hand came up, trailing through the damp hair at her temple, and as it did, the overhead light caught the gold band on her finger.
She went very still, her eyes fixing on the wedding ring. A slow, deeply seductive smile spread across her lips—not just satisfied, but deliciously cruel.
“Oh, look,” she purred, her voice a throaty whisper. She raised her hand, turning it so the ring glinted. “Mark had to court me for weeks until I let him kiss me. Months until our first night.” She dropped her hand to my chest, her fingers splaying possessively over my heart. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto mine, gleaming with mischief. “And now you just came to the door… and came inside me, mister.” She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “That’s not fair to poor old Mark. Not fair at all.”
She traced a nail down the center of my chest. “He was always so… careful. So worried about doing things right.” Her voice dropped to a confidential murmur. “He’d ask if I was comfortable. If the pressure was okay. It was like making love to a user manual.” Her hand slid lower, over my stomach, her touch feather-light and incendiary. “But you… you didn’t ask. You just took. And you knew exactly how to make this body sing.”
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. The other hand continued its idle exploration of my arm, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle. “He thought patience was a virtue. All that waiting.” She smirked. “He never realized that what this vessel really needed wasn’t patience… it was someone with the confidence to just claim it.” Her eyes drifted to the overturned wedding photo. “His touches were like whispers. Yours?” She leaned close, her breath warm against my ear. “Yours are declarations. And my body… her body… understands the difference perfectly.”
She let out a contented, utterly wicked sigh and settled back against the rumpled sheets—sheets that now bore the indelible, intimate stain of her total betrayal, performed not just with a smile, but with a poet’s cruel flair for comparison.
“No hollowness now,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping over me with open ownership. “Just you. It feels… perfect.” She lifted her ring hand again, studying it as if it were a curious artifact. “I really should send him a thank you note. For being so… inadequate. He left everything so perfectly primed for a real man to finally use.”
*
Silas lay there for a few minutes more, listening to the ragged sound of her breathing slowly even out. The room smelled of sex and salt and a strange, metallic triumph. Finally, he shifted, disentangling himself from the damp sheets and her limp, sated limbs.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The air felt cool on his skin. Without a word, he began to gather his clothes from the floor. Each movement was methodical, practiced: stepping into his boxer-briefs, pulling up his trousers, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room. He fastened his belt with a definitive click. The entire process was one of reclamation, of re-armoring. He was becoming a stranger in this room again, while the woman on the bed remained the stark, naked evidence of the violation.
Rachel propped herself up on her elbows, watching him dress with a lazy, affectionate smile. She made no move to cover herself. Her nakedness was casual, unselfconscious, a state of being she now shared with him as effortlessly as a thought.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice husky. There was a pout in it, but it was theatrical. She already knew the plan. She was part of it.“Business before pleasure,” Silas said, his voice back to its normal, controlled timbre as he pulled his shirt on. “We have an appointment with a safe.”
“Right, right,” she sighed, stretching like a cat. She slid off the bed, her bare feet hitting the carpet without a sound. She stood before him, utterly exposed, and reached up to fix his collar, her touch proprietary. “The jewels. Can’t forget those.”
The incongruity was almost laughable. Here was a woman, naked and still glistening from being thoroughly fucked by an intruder, fussing over his shirt before leading him to rob her own home. She took his hand, her fingers lacing through his with a wifely familiarity that would have made the real Rachel vomit, and guided him out of the desecrated bedroom.
She walked ahead of him, down the stairs, her naked body a pale beacon in the dim hallway. She moved with total assurance, as if this were the most natural way to host a guest. In the study, she went directly to the large landscape painting—a tasteful watercolor of a lake at dusk—and swung it aside on its hinges as easily as if she were opening a cupboard. Behind it was a sleek, modern wall safe.
“0-4-1-2,” she recited, tapping the digital keypad. The light turned green with a soft beep. She pulled the heavy door open.
Inside, velvet trays glimmered under the recessed light. Diamond studs, a pearl necklace, an emerald-cut ruby pendant on a platinum chain, a man’s Rolex, stacks of bonds, and bundles of cash.
“Her favorite was the pearls,” she mused, picking up the strand and letting them cascade through her fingers. “A wedding gift from Mark’s mother. She always felt they were too old for her.” She dropped them carelessly into the leather duffel bag Silas had produced from his jacket. She followed them with the ruby, the watch, the cash. She worked with the efficiency of a seasoned thief, her nakedness making the act not sensual, but surreal—a brutal, obscene practicality.
When the safe was empty and the duffel bag full, she closed the safe door and swung the painting back into place, giving it a little pat. “There. All tidy.”
She turned to him, still gloriously, unabashedly nude in the middle of her burglarized study. She placed her hands on his chest, looking up at him with that adoring, complicit smile. “A productive visit.”
Silas leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. She melted into it, her arms sliding around his neck, her body pressing against the rough fabric of his clothes. It was the kiss of a lover seeing her partner off on a trip, full of promise and intimate knowledge.
He broke the kiss, his hand cupping her cheek for a moment. “Until next time,” he murmured, a lie that felt like truth in the charged air.
“I’ll be here,” she whispered back, her eyes shining with his own reflected cunning.
He shouldered the duffel bag, and let himself out the front door. She stood in the doorway, a nude silhouette against the warm light of the foyer, and waved, that seductive smile still playing on her lips until he disappeared into the darkness of the front walk.
Silas walked. The bag was heavy. He turned a corner, then another, putting blocks between himself and the cream-colored colonial. The night air was crisp, clearing the scent of her perfume and their sweat from his lungs.
He was three blocks away, under the stark glow of a streetlamp, when he felt it.
It was a sudden, silent snap, like the release of a tension he hadn't fully acknowledged. A chill, sharper than the night air, rushed up his spine and settled behind his eyes. It was the return—the fragment of his own consciousness, saturated with the sensory memory of soft skin and stolen pleasure and the thrilling, hollow ache of Rachel’s body, now flowing back into the well of his soul. A faint, ghostly echo of her final, contented sigh whispered in the back of his mind before fading into nothing.
He paused, absorbing the totality of himself once more. The partition was closed. The connection severed.
Back in the house, Rachel would be waking up on the floor of her house, naked, confused, with a dull ache between her legs and a terrifying, inexplicable gap in her memory. The safe would be empty. The taste of a stranger’s kiss on her lips, his cum leaking between her legs, and no understanding of how any of it had happened.
Silas adjusted the weight of the duffel bag and continued his walk, a quiet, profound satisfaction humming in his veins.
mind control
+3 more
2
8.7K
935
3
0
Hasti isn't from Nashville, so she's been running into issues finding men that like anything other than blue eyes and blonde hair. As a beautiful Indian girl that grew up in Chicago, she never had issues finding men that were into her, however she's dealing with a bit of an identity crisis. She recently discovered the ability to leave her body and pull other's soul's out of theirs so she can become anyone...including the perfect woman for the city of Nashville.
Hasti adjusted the rearview mirror of her parked car, glancing at her reflection. Dark waves framed her face, her lips glossed and eyes lined with kohl—effortless, striking. But she wasn’t admiring herself tonight; she was strategizing. The glowing neon sign of The Blue Note Lounge flickered across the street, pulsing with the bass of loud music and laughter. Inside, the kind of girls who never got overlooked were already laughing too loudly at boys who wouldn’t give Hasti a second look if she walked in as herself.
But she wasn’t planning to walk in as herself.
She exhaled, squared her shoulders, and closed her eyes. A tingling sensation rippled down her spine, the familiar pull of separation as her spirit lifted free from her body. She glanced back—her physical form slumped slightly against the seat, limp as a doll. Vulnerable. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Hasti’s spirit drifted through the car door and across the street, passing effortlessly through the crowded bar. Bodies pulsed to the rhythm of the music, conversations blurring into white noise. Then she spotted her target: a tall blonde with sharp cheekbones and legs that seemed to stretch for miles. She was leaning against the bar, tossing her hair over her shoulder while some frat-boy type grinned at her like she’d hung the moon. Perfect.
Hasti floated closer. The girl—Alyssa, according to the bartender’s greeting—was sipping a cocktail, oblivious to the spirit hovering inches from her. With a deep breath (or the ghost of one), Hasti reached out, pressing ethereal fingers to Alyssa’s forehead. A sharp tug, and—
The blonde’s body stiffened for a second before slumping forward, her spirit peeling free like mist from water. Hasti guided the empty shell of Alyssa’s consciousness to hover near the ceiling, where it drifted lazily in dreamless suspension. Then, without hesitation, she stepped into the body.
Warmth. Weight. The sudden rush of sensation—tight fabric hugging curves, the chill of air conditioning on bare arms, the thrum of bass vibrating through high heels. Hasti flexed Alyssa’s fingers, rolled the unfamiliar shoulders, and grinned.
The frat boy blinked. “You good?”
Hasti tossed Alyssa’s hair—her hair now—and smirked. “Better than good.”
His smile widened. Finally, someone who looked at her like that.
All part of the plan.
Hasti—now in Alyssa’s tall, blonde, effortlessly desired body—flashed another dazzling smile at the guy in front of her. God, this is easy.
"Another drink?" he asked, already flagging down the bartender. His name was Jake, according to the stupidly expensive watch on his wrist and the way he kept mentioning his dad’s law firm.
She let out a practiced laugh, leaning in just enough to let him catch a whiff of Alyssa’s vanilla perfume. "Only if you’re having one with me."
Jake beamed, like she’d just handed him the keys to the city. "Hell yeah."
As they clinked glasses, Hasti couldn’t help but marvel at how different this was from her usual nights out. Back in Chicago, she’d been the queen of the scene—hips swaying, eyes locking, men tripping over themselves to get her attention. But here in Nashville? In her body? She might as well have been invisible. Their loss, she thought, taking a sip of the too-sweet cocktail.
The rest of the night played out like something out of a movie—Jake’s hands occasionally grazing her waist, his friends hyping him up like he’d just won the lottery, the bartender sliding them free shots when the crowd got rowdy. Hasti let herself enjoy it all—the way heads turned when she walked by, the way Jake’s voice got lower and slower the more he drank, the warmth of being wanted without having to try so damn hard.
By closing time, Jake was whispering against her ear, lips brushing her neck as he murmured, "You should come back to my place."
Hasti grinned. Oh, I could. She could take Alyssa’s body back to his apartment, let him peel that tight dress off her, do all the things she knew he’d never consider doing with her real self.
But then she glanced at the clock above the bar. Two hours—her limit before Alyssa’s drifting spirit might start getting restless. And as much as she loved the game, she wasn’t reckless enough to test her own limits.
She feigned disappointment, running freshly French-tipped nails along his bicep. "Rain check, Jake. Early morning."
He pouted, but she kissed his cheek before he could protest—lingering just enough to leave him wanting more—and sauntered toward the ladies' room. Locked in a stall, she closed Alyssa’s eyes, exhaled, and—
Pop. as she left Alyssa's body and saw her body slump over. She floated back to the middle of the bar and grabbed Alyssa's spirit from the ceiling, dragging it back to the bathroom and gently guiding her spirit back into it's body. Then she flew back to her car.
Back in her own body, still tucked safely in her car. She stretched, shaking off the lingering thrill, and glanced in the mirror. Dark eyes stared back at her, familiar and fierce.
Damn, that was fun.
Hasti checked her phone—no missed calls, no emergencies. Nobody had even noticed her empty shell just sitting there. A perfect night, no complications.
As she started the engine, she smirked. "Same time next week?" she said to herself as she went home to get sleep and prepare for the work day ahead.
-
The next morning, Hasti leaned back in her office chair, twirling a pen between her fingers as she stared at her computer screen. The glow of spreadsheets and project deadlines made her eyes ache, but at least her cubicle in the marketing department gave her some privacy. Corporate life. She sighed. If her coworkers knew half the things she did on weekends, they’d probably faint.
A knock on the cubicle wall made her jump.
"You zoning out again?"
Maggie, her work bestie—curly red hair, freckles, and a perpetual coffee cup in hand—peeked in with a smirk. "I’ve been calling your name for, like, a full minute."
Hasti blinked, then laughed. "Sorry, just strategizing."
"Oh, for work?" Maggie wiggled her eyebrows. "Or for your mysterious Friday night plans?"
Maggie was the only one at the office who knew Hasti had something wild going on—just not the specifics. She thought it was secret Tinder dates.
Hasti smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Maggie groaned. "Ugh, you’re the worst." She plopped down in the spare chair, kicking her feet up. "Fine, keep your secrets. But you are coming to drinks with me and Layla tonight, right? No ‘emergencies,’ no disappearing acts?"
Hasti hesitated. "Depends. Where are we going?"
"The Foxglove—that new rooftop bar downtown. Super bougie."
Her pulse quickened. Bars meant potential new "hosts" for her little astral vacations. But she promised herself that she would only project once or twice a week, and only if it was a Friday or Saturday night. She still needed to spend time with her friends however, or they'd start thinking she didn't like them. After considerate, she relented. "Yeah, I’m in."
Maggie squealed. "Finally! Maybe you'll actually stay for once."
-
The Foxglove was everything Maggie had promised—glamorous, crowded, and pulsing with energy. Twinkling lights strung across the rooftop terrace cast a golden glow over the sleek marble bar, while the Nashville skyline glittered beyond the glass railing. The air smelled like expensive perfume and citrus-infused cocktails.
Hasti adjusted the strap of her little black dress as she followed Maggie and Layla to a high-top table near the edge. Layla—Maggie’s bubbly roommate—immediately flagged down a server and ordered a round of martinis without even glancing at the menu.
"So, how’s life in the marketing trenches?" Layla asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Anyone’s soul crushed yet this week?"
Maggie groaned. "Don’t even get me started. Johnson emailed me again about the ‘brand synergy’ report like it’s not literally the most meaningless document in existence."
Hasti laughed, letting the familiar rhythm of their banter wash over her. For once, she wasn’t scanning the room for potential hosts, wasn’t plotting where she’d stash her body while her spirit slipped free. Tonight was just drinks. Just friends.
"And you," Layla pointed at Hasti, a playful accusation in her eyes. "Spill. Why do we never see you anymore? Are you secretly married? In witness protection?"
Hasti rolled her eyes, swirling her martini. "Please. Like I could keep a husband quiet."
Maggie snorted into her drink. "True. You’d be texting us every five minutes complaining about his socks on the floor."
The conversation flowed, effortlessly pulling Hasti in. They gossiped about coworkers, debated which downtown restaurant had the best tacos (Layla insisted it was the food truck by the park; Maggie swore by the overpriced fusion place), and laughed until Hasti’s cheeks hurt. For a dizzying hour, she almost forgot about astral projection altogether.
Until she saw her.
Across the rooftop, perched on a velvet lounge chair like she owned the place, was a girl with porcelain skin, cascading honey-blonde waves, and a laugh that carried like wind chimes. The kind of girl who made heads turn without trying—exactly the sort Hasti would have loved to borrow for an evening.
A familiar itch prickled under her skin.
No. Not tonight.
She forced her gaze back to Maggie, who was mid-story about her disastrous attempt at online dating. "—and then he actually said, ‘I don’t usually go for redheads, but—’"
"Ugh, men," Layla groaned, throwing a napkin at her. "Why are they like this?"
Hasti half-listened, her fingers tapping restlessly against her glass. The blonde girl was sipping champagne now, surrounded by a group of adoring guys hanging onto her every word. One of them leaned in, whispering something that made her giggle, and Hasti could practically feel the effortless power she carried.
It would be so easy. Just a quick trip to the bathroom, a momentary disconnect, and—
"Earth to Hasti." Maggie snapped her fingers. "You okay?"
Hasti blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, totally." She plastered on a smile. "Just got distracted by… the view."
Layla followed her gaze to the blonde and smirked. "Ohhh, I see. Someone’s got a girl crush."
Hasti laughed, forcing herself to relax into her seat. "Hardly. Just appreciating aesthetics."
But the temptation hummed in the back of her mind like a song stuck on repeat.
Not tonight, she reminded herself firmly. Tonight is for real life.
She picked up her drink and clinked it against Maggie’s. "To not letting Johnson ruin our will to live."
Maggie grinned. "Amen to that."
Hasti exhaled, pushing aside the lingering urge. Tonight, she’d stay present. At least that's what she told herself for about 2 minutes.
Hasti's gaze drifted past the rooftop lights, landing on him. Tall, tousled dark hair, a crooked smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he joked with his friends. He had the kind of confidence that wasn't loud—just effortless, like he didn't need to prove a damn thing. And the way his dress shirt clung to his shoulders? Damn.
"Oh. Ohhh no," Maggie drawled, snapping her fingers in front of Hasti’s face. "I know that look. You’re into him."
Layla twisted in her seat, scanning the crowd. "Which one? Wait—black shirt, stupidly good jawline?”
Hasti groaned into her drink. “It doesn’t matter. Guys like that don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Maggie challenged. “Don’t date gorgeous, hilarious women with the most iconic cheekbones in Nashville?”
Hasti swirled her martini, her voice lowering. “Don’t date brown girls. Not here.” The words tasted bitter, but it was the truth. She’d seen it a hundred times—guys like him lighting up for blondes, for petite girls with freckles and doe eyes, while she faded into the background no matter how tight her dress was.
Layla slammed her glass down. “Bullshit. Go talk to him.”
“What’s the point?”
“The point,” Maggie said, leaning in, “is that you never let them win. Walk over there like you own the air he’s breathing. And if he’s stupid enough to not see it? His loss.”
Hasti chewed her lip. The temptation to slip into someone else’s body—someone palatable to guys like him—flared again. But tonight wasn’t about shortcuts.
“Fine,” she muttered, tossing back the rest of her drink for courage. “But if this goes south, I’m blaming you for peer pressure.”
Layla grinned. “Deal.”
Hasti willed her pulse to settle as she approached his table. “Hey,” she said, aiming for casual but landing somewhere between confident and please-don’t-make-this-awkward. “I’m Hasti.”
The guy—Ethan, his friend supplied—turned, his smile polite but distracted. “Hey.”
She kept her chin up, her body language loose like this didn’t matter. “You in town for work, or…?”
“Yeah, finance,” he said, glancing past her toward the bar. Then, after a beat, he added, “Look, you seem cool, but—”
She already knew.
“But I’m not your type,” she finished, her voice steady.
His cheeks flushed. “It’s not—I mean, you’re gorgeous, just not—”
“Yeah. Got it.” She forced a smile. “Thanks for being honest.”
She walked away before he could stammer out another empty compliment.
“Asshole,” Layla declared the second Hasti slumped back into her seat.
Hasti shrugged, reaching for Maggie’s untouched shot of tequila. “At least he didn’t lead me on.”
Maggie snatched the shot back, sliding a fresh one toward her instead. “His loss. And now?” She pushed the salt and lime toward Hasti. “We drink to trash men and better prospects.”
“To better prospects,” Layla echoed, clinking her glass to Hasti’s.
The tequila burned, but the warmth in her chest wasn’t just from the alcohol. It was from Maggie’s arm slung around her shoulders, from Layla’s dramatic retelling of her worst rejection (“He said I looked ‘too exotic’—what does that even mean?!”), from the certainty that tonight, at least, she wasn’t alone.
Hasti licked the salt from her lips, grinning. “Next round’s on me. And if Ethan over there looks this way?”
“He’ll wish he was your type,” Maggie finished.
Hasti laughed, tossing her hair. Damn right.
The night blurred into laughter and too many tequila shots, the sting of rejection dulled by the warmth of good liquor and even better friends. Hasti leaned against the rooftop railing, the neon glow of downtown smudging in her vision. Maggie was mid-sentence—something scandalous about her boss’s secret affair—when Hasti’s gaze snagged on the exit across the terrace.
There they were.
Ethan—Mr. Not My Type—was slipping his arm around that honey-blonde girl’s waist, whispering something in her ear that made her toss her hair and giggle. The girl pressed into him like she’d known him for years instead of hours, her manicured fingers curling possessively around his bicep.
Hasti’s grip tightened around her empty glass.
"Ohhh no," Layla murmured, following her stare. "Don’t even look at them."
Hasti didn’t reply. The tequila was a hot, liquid defiance in her veins, and suddenly, she was done. "I’m tired of this," she muttered.
"Tired of what?" Maggie hooked an arm through hers, trying to steer her away.
"This!" Hasti gestured wildly toward the happy couple disappearing into the elevator. "I could’ve been fun. I could’ve been amazing. But he didn’t even try to see it—none of them ever do!"
Layla squeezed her shoulder. "Then he’s an idiot."
Hasti scoffed. "No, he’s typical." The words spilled out, sharp with liquor and frustration. "And I’m sick of pretending it’s fine. Sick of being overlooked. Sick of watching guys like him fall all over girls like that when I’m right here."
Her friends exchanged a glance. "Okay," Maggie said carefully, "let’s get you home before you incinerate someone with your eyes."
Hasti let them tug her toward the exit, but her mind was already racing. Ethan and Blondie were probably headed to some bougie afterparty, some dim-lit bedroom where he’d worship her in ways Hasti wouldn’t even get the chance to experience.
Not in her own skin, anyway.
The thought hit like lightning.
"Bathroom," Hasti announced abruptly, pulling free. "One sec."
She didn’t wait for their protests. The second she was locked in a stall, she braced her hands on the sink, staring at her reflection—flushed cheeks, smudged eyeliner, the fire in her own dark eyes.
She could go home. She could let this night be another anecdote for Maggie and Layla to laugh about later.
Or.
A slow, wicked smile tugged at her lips.
She closed her eyes.
And let her spirit slip free.....
The hallway outside the bathroom was empty. Hasti’s spectral form darted past oblivious bartenders and stumbling drunk girls until she found them—Ethan and Blondie, waiting for the elevator, his hands already under her jacket.
Hasti hovered behind them, revenge sweet on her tongue.
With a deep breath, she reached out. Her fingers—ghostly, but firm—gripped the blonde’s shoulder.
A sharp tug.
The girl slumped forward, her consciousness lifting away like smoke. Ethan frowned, steadying her limp body. "Babe? You okay?"
Hasti didn’t hesitate. She stepped in.
Blonde hair. Pink lips. Long legs. Skin that Nashville adored without question.
When she opened her eyes, Ethan’s face melted into relief. "There you are."
Hasti—no, Aubrey, according to the ID in her clutch—smiled. "Here I am."
And when his lips met hers, she kissed him back, savoring the irony.
Ethan’s mouth was warm, insistent—the kind of kiss that probably made most girls melt. But Hasti (currently piloting Aubrey’s stolen body) felt nothing but burning satisfaction.
Here he is, so eager for a girl who’s basically a mannequin right now.
She let the kiss deepen for exactly three seconds—long enough to really sell it—then abruptly pulled back.
“Wait, what—” Ethan started, eyes dazed.
Hasti smirked. “Oops. Forgot something.”
And then she kneed him square in the crotch.
Ethan doubled over with a strangled “Guh—!”, his face turning a spectacular shade of purple as he crumpled against the elevator doors.
“Asshole,” Hasti hissed in Aubrey’s voice, smoothing down the girl’s short skirt. “Hope that stings all night.”
She left him wheezing on the floor and marched straight to the ladies’ room. Behind the locked stall door, she exhaled and let Aubrey’s consciousness slip back into place, guiding it gently like tucking a sleeping child into bed.
The blonde girl blinked, swaying slightly as she glanced around the bathroom, confused but unharmed. “What the… did I black out?” she muttered, touching her lips like she’d missed something.
Hasti’s spirit zipped back to her own body—still slumped in the bathroom stall—and gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her reflection stared back at her, grinning like a cat who got the cream. The tequila haze hit her full-force, but the giddy thrill of payback was stronger. She checked her reflection, wiped the smudged eyeliner, and strutted out to meet her friends.
"Oh my God, Hasti!" Maggie practically tackled her the second she stepped out of the bathroom. "You missed the best part!"
Layla was wheezing, clutching her stomach. "That blonde girl—the one you were just talking about? She knee’d that guy in the dick."
Maggie mimed an explosion with her hands. "Like, full-on ends of the earth devastation. He looked like he was gonna puke."
Hasti pressed a hand to her chest, feigning shock. "Really? But they seemed so perfect for each other."
Layla dabbed at her smudged eyeliner, still laughing. "Turns out Aubrey"—she said the name like it was a punchline—has standards. King Dickhead got exactly what he deserved."**
Hasti looped her arms through theirs as they stumbled toward the exit, the night air cool on her flushed skin. "Karma’s a beautiful thing," she sighed, grinning.
"Preach," Maggie said, raising an imaginary toast.
And as they spilled onto the sidewalk, laughing under the city lights, Hasti decided something: maybe she didn’t need to borrow anyone’s body to feel powerful.
But damn, it sure was fun.
And as they piled into an Uber, giddy and triumphant, she didn’t even glance back at the club—or the blonde girl now glaring at a still-wincing Ethan.
Some victories were sweeter in silence.
Hasti adjusted the rearview mirror of her parked car, glancing at her reflection. Dark waves framed her face, her lips glossed and eyes lined with kohl—effortless, striking. But she wasn’t admiring herself tonight; she was strategizing. The glowing neon sign of The Blue Note Lounge flickered across the street, pulsing with the bass of loud music and laughter. Inside, the kind of girls who never got overlooked were already laughing too loudly at boys who wouldn’t give Hasti a second look if she walked in as herself.
But she wasn’t planning to walk in as herself.
She exhaled, squared her shoulders, and closed her eyes. A tingling sensation rippled down her spine, the familiar pull of separation as her spirit lifted free from her body. She glanced back—her physical form slumped slightly against the seat, limp as a doll. Vulnerable. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Hasti’s spirit drifted through the car door and across the street, passing effortlessly through the crowded bar. Bodies pulsed to the rhythm of the music, conversations blurring into white noise. Then she spotted her target: a tall blonde with sharp cheekbones and legs that seemed to stretch for miles. She was leaning against the bar, tossing her hair over her shoulder while some frat-boy type grinned at her like she’d hung the moon. Perfect.
Hasti floated closer. The girl—Alyssa, according to the bartender’s greeting—was sipping a cocktail, oblivious to the spirit hovering inches from her. With a deep breath (or the ghost of one), Hasti reached out, pressing ethereal fingers to Alyssa’s forehead. A sharp tug, and—
The blonde’s body stiffened for a second before slumping forward, her spirit peeling free like mist from water. Hasti guided the empty shell of Alyssa’s consciousness to hover near the ceiling, where it drifted lazily in dreamless suspension. Then, without hesitation, she stepped into the body.
Warmth. Weight. The sudden rush of sensation—tight fabric hugging curves, the chill of air conditioning on bare arms, the thrum of bass vibrating through high heels. Hasti flexed Alyssa’s fingers, rolled the unfamiliar shoulders, and grinned.
The frat boy blinked. “You good?”
Hasti tossed Alyssa’s hair—her hair now—and smirked. “Better than good.”
His smile widened. Finally, someone who looked at her like that.
All part of the plan.
Hasti—now in Alyssa’s tall, blonde, effortlessly desired body—flashed another dazzling smile at the guy in front of her. God, this is easy.
"Another drink?" he asked, already flagging down the bartender. His name was Jake, according to the stupidly expensive watch on his wrist and the way he kept mentioning his dad’s law firm.
She let out a practiced laugh, leaning in just enough to let him catch a whiff of Alyssa’s vanilla perfume. "Only if you’re having one with me."
Jake beamed, like she’d just handed him the keys to the city. "Hell yeah."
As they clinked glasses, Hasti couldn’t help but marvel at how different this was from her usual nights out. Back in Chicago, she’d been the queen of the scene—hips swaying, eyes locking, men tripping over themselves to get her attention. But here in Nashville? In her body? She might as well have been invisible. Their loss, she thought, taking a sip of the too-sweet cocktail.
The rest of the night played out like something out of a movie—Jake’s hands occasionally grazing her waist, his friends hyping him up like he’d just won the lottery, the bartender sliding them free shots when the crowd got rowdy. Hasti let herself enjoy it all—the way heads turned when she walked by, the way Jake’s voice got lower and slower the more he drank, the warmth of being wanted without having to try so damn hard.
By closing time, Jake was whispering against her ear, lips brushing her neck as he murmured, "You should come back to my place."
Hasti grinned. Oh, I could. She could take Alyssa’s body back to his apartment, let him peel that tight dress off her, do all the things she knew he’d never consider doing with her real self.
But then she glanced at the clock above the bar. Two hours—her limit before Alyssa’s drifting spirit might start getting restless. And as much as she loved the game, she wasn’t reckless enough to test her own limits.
She feigned disappointment, running freshly French-tipped nails along his bicep. "Rain check, Jake. Early morning."
He pouted, but she kissed his cheek before he could protest—lingering just enough to leave him wanting more—and sauntered toward the ladies' room. Locked in a stall, she closed Alyssa’s eyes, exhaled, and—
Pop. as she left Alyssa's body and saw her body slump over. She floated back to the middle of the bar and grabbed Alyssa's spirit from the ceiling, dragging it back to the bathroom and gently guiding her spirit back into it's body. Then she flew back to her car.
Back in her own body, still tucked safely in her car. She stretched, shaking off the lingering thrill, and glanced in the mirror. Dark eyes stared back at her, familiar and fierce.
Damn, that was fun.
Hasti checked her phone—no missed calls, no emergencies. Nobody had even noticed her empty shell just sitting there. A perfect night, no complications.
As she started the engine, she smirked. "Same time next week?" she said to herself as she went home to get sleep and prepare for the work day ahead.
-
The next morning, Hasti leaned back in her office chair, twirling a pen between her fingers as she stared at her computer screen. The glow of spreadsheets and project deadlines made her eyes ache, but at least her cubicle in the marketing department gave her some privacy. Corporate life. She sighed. If her coworkers knew half the things she did on weekends, they’d probably faint.
A knock on the cubicle wall made her jump.
"You zoning out again?"
Maggie, her work bestie—curly red hair, freckles, and a perpetual coffee cup in hand—peeked in with a smirk. "I’ve been calling your name for, like, a full minute."
Hasti blinked, then laughed. "Sorry, just strategizing."
"Oh, for work?" Maggie wiggled her eyebrows. "Or for your mysterious Friday night plans?"
Maggie was the only one at the office who knew Hasti had something wild going on—just not the specifics. She thought it was secret Tinder dates.
Hasti smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Maggie groaned. "Ugh, you’re the worst." She plopped down in the spare chair, kicking her feet up. "Fine, keep your secrets. But you are coming to drinks with me and Layla tonight, right? No ‘emergencies,’ no disappearing acts?"
Hasti hesitated. "Depends. Where are we going?"
"The Foxglove—that new rooftop bar downtown. Super bougie."
Her pulse quickened. Bars meant potential new "hosts" for her little astral vacations. But she promised herself that she would only project once or twice a week, and only if it was a Friday or Saturday night. She still needed to spend time with her friends however, or they'd start thinking she didn't like them. After considerate, she relented. "Yeah, I’m in."
Maggie squealed. "Finally! Maybe you'll actually stay for once."
-
The Foxglove was everything Maggie had promised—glamorous, crowded, and pulsing with energy. Twinkling lights strung across the rooftop terrace cast a golden glow over the sleek marble bar, while the Nashville skyline glittered beyond the glass railing. The air smelled like expensive perfume and citrus-infused cocktails.
Hasti adjusted the strap of her little black dress as she followed Maggie and Layla to a high-top table near the edge. Layla—Maggie’s bubbly roommate—immediately flagged down a server and ordered a round of martinis without even glancing at the menu.
"So, how’s life in the marketing trenches?" Layla asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Anyone’s soul crushed yet this week?"
Maggie groaned. "Don’t even get me started. Johnson emailed me again about the ‘brand synergy’ report like it’s not literally the most meaningless document in existence."
Hasti laughed, letting the familiar rhythm of their banter wash over her. For once, she wasn’t scanning the room for potential hosts, wasn’t plotting where she’d stash her body while her spirit slipped free. Tonight was just drinks. Just friends.
"And you," Layla pointed at Hasti, a playful accusation in her eyes. "Spill. Why do we never see you anymore? Are you secretly married? In witness protection?"
Hasti rolled her eyes, swirling her martini. "Please. Like I could keep a husband quiet."
Maggie snorted into her drink. "True. You’d be texting us every five minutes complaining about his socks on the floor."
The conversation flowed, effortlessly pulling Hasti in. They gossiped about coworkers, debated which downtown restaurant had the best tacos (Layla insisted it was the food truck by the park; Maggie swore by the overpriced fusion place), and laughed until Hasti’s cheeks hurt. For a dizzying hour, she almost forgot about astral projection altogether.
Until she saw her.
Across the rooftop, perched on a velvet lounge chair like she owned the place, was a girl with porcelain skin, cascading honey-blonde waves, and a laugh that carried like wind chimes. The kind of girl who made heads turn without trying—exactly the sort Hasti would have loved to borrow for an evening.
A familiar itch prickled under her skin.
No. Not tonight.
She forced her gaze back to Maggie, who was mid-story about her disastrous attempt at online dating. "—and then he actually said, ‘I don’t usually go for redheads, but—’"
"Ugh, men," Layla groaned, throwing a napkin at her. "Why are they like this?"
Hasti half-listened, her fingers tapping restlessly against her glass. The blonde girl was sipping champagne now, surrounded by a group of adoring guys hanging onto her every word. One of them leaned in, whispering something that made her giggle, and Hasti could practically feel the effortless power she carried.
It would be so easy. Just a quick trip to the bathroom, a momentary disconnect, and—
"Earth to Hasti." Maggie snapped her fingers. "You okay?"
Hasti blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, totally." She plastered on a smile. "Just got distracted by… the view."
Layla followed her gaze to the blonde and smirked. "Ohhh, I see. Someone’s got a girl crush."
Hasti laughed, forcing herself to relax into her seat. "Hardly. Just appreciating aesthetics."
But the temptation hummed in the back of her mind like a song stuck on repeat.
Not tonight, she reminded herself firmly. Tonight is for real life.
She picked up her drink and clinked it against Maggie’s. "To not letting Johnson ruin our will to live."
Maggie grinned. "Amen to that."
Hasti exhaled, pushing aside the lingering urge. Tonight, she’d stay present. At least that's what she told herself for about 2 minutes.
Hasti's gaze drifted past the rooftop lights, landing on him. Tall, tousled dark hair, a crooked smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he joked with his friends. He had the kind of confidence that wasn't loud—just effortless, like he didn't need to prove a damn thing. And the way his dress shirt clung to his shoulders? Damn.
"Oh. Ohhh no," Maggie drawled, snapping her fingers in front of Hasti’s face. "I know that look. You’re into him."
Layla twisted in her seat, scanning the crowd. "Which one? Wait—black shirt, stupidly good jawline?”
Hasti groaned into her drink. “It doesn’t matter. Guys like that don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Maggie challenged. “Don’t date gorgeous, hilarious women with the most iconic cheekbones in Nashville?”
Hasti swirled her martini, her voice lowering. “Don’t date brown girls. Not here.” The words tasted bitter, but it was the truth. She’d seen it a hundred times—guys like him lighting up for blondes, for petite girls with freckles and doe eyes, while she faded into the background no matter how tight her dress was.
Layla slammed her glass down. “Bullshit. Go talk to him.”
“What’s the point?”
“The point,” Maggie said, leaning in, “is that you never let them win. Walk over there like you own the air he’s breathing. And if he’s stupid enough to not see it? His loss.”
Hasti chewed her lip. The temptation to slip into someone else’s body—someone palatable to guys like him—flared again. But tonight wasn’t about shortcuts.
“Fine,” she muttered, tossing back the rest of her drink for courage. “But if this goes south, I’m blaming you for peer pressure.”
Layla grinned. “Deal.”
Hasti willed her pulse to settle as she approached his table. “Hey,” she said, aiming for casual but landing somewhere between confident and please-don’t-make-this-awkward. “I’m Hasti.”
The guy—Ethan, his friend supplied—turned, his smile polite but distracted. “Hey.”
She kept her chin up, her body language loose like this didn’t matter. “You in town for work, or…?”
“Yeah, finance,” he said, glancing past her toward the bar. Then, after a beat, he added, “Look, you seem cool, but—”
She already knew.
“But I’m not your type,” she finished, her voice steady.
His cheeks flushed. “It’s not—I mean, you’re gorgeous, just not—”
“Yeah. Got it.” She forced a smile. “Thanks for being honest.”
She walked away before he could stammer out another empty compliment.
“Asshole,” Layla declared the second Hasti slumped back into her seat.
Hasti shrugged, reaching for Maggie’s untouched shot of tequila. “At least he didn’t lead me on.”
Maggie snatched the shot back, sliding a fresh one toward her instead. “His loss. And now?” She pushed the salt and lime toward Hasti. “We drink to trash men and better prospects.”
“To better prospects,” Layla echoed, clinking her glass to Hasti’s.
The tequila burned, but the warmth in her chest wasn’t just from the alcohol. It was from Maggie’s arm slung around her shoulders, from Layla’s dramatic retelling of her worst rejection (“He said I looked ‘too exotic’—what does that even mean?!”), from the certainty that tonight, at least, she wasn’t alone.
Hasti licked the salt from her lips, grinning. “Next round’s on me. And if Ethan over there looks this way?”
“He’ll wish he was your type,” Maggie finished.
Hasti laughed, tossing her hair. Damn right.
The night blurred into laughter and too many tequila shots, the sting of rejection dulled by the warmth of good liquor and even better friends. Hasti leaned against the rooftop railing, the neon glow of downtown smudging in her vision. Maggie was mid-sentence—something scandalous about her boss’s secret affair—when Hasti’s gaze snagged on the exit across the terrace.
There they were.
Ethan—Mr. Not My Type—was slipping his arm around that honey-blonde girl’s waist, whispering something in her ear that made her toss her hair and giggle. The girl pressed into him like she’d known him for years instead of hours, her manicured fingers curling possessively around his bicep.
Hasti’s grip tightened around her empty glass.
"Ohhh no," Layla murmured, following her stare. "Don’t even look at them."
Hasti didn’t reply. The tequila was a hot, liquid defiance in her veins, and suddenly, she was done. "I’m tired of this," she muttered.
"Tired of what?" Maggie hooked an arm through hers, trying to steer her away.
"This!" Hasti gestured wildly toward the happy couple disappearing into the elevator. "I could’ve been fun. I could’ve been amazing. But he didn’t even try to see it—none of them ever do!"
Layla squeezed her shoulder. "Then he’s an idiot."
Hasti scoffed. "No, he’s typical." The words spilled out, sharp with liquor and frustration. "And I’m sick of pretending it’s fine. Sick of being overlooked. Sick of watching guys like him fall all over girls like that when I’m right here."
Her friends exchanged a glance. "Okay," Maggie said carefully, "let’s get you home before you incinerate someone with your eyes."
Hasti let them tug her toward the exit, but her mind was already racing. Ethan and Blondie were probably headed to some bougie afterparty, some dim-lit bedroom where he’d worship her in ways Hasti wouldn’t even get the chance to experience.
Not in her own skin, anyway.
The thought hit like lightning.
"Bathroom," Hasti announced abruptly, pulling free. "One sec."
She didn’t wait for their protests. The second she was locked in a stall, she braced her hands on the sink, staring at her reflection—flushed cheeks, smudged eyeliner, the fire in her own dark eyes.
She could go home. She could let this night be another anecdote for Maggie and Layla to laugh about later.
Or.
A slow, wicked smile tugged at her lips.
She closed her eyes.
And let her spirit slip free.....
The hallway outside the bathroom was empty. Hasti’s spectral form darted past oblivious bartenders and stumbling drunk girls until she found them—Ethan and Blondie, waiting for the elevator, his hands already under her jacket.
Hasti hovered behind them, revenge sweet on her tongue.
With a deep breath, she reached out. Her fingers—ghostly, but firm—gripped the blonde’s shoulder.
A sharp tug.
The girl slumped forward, her consciousness lifting away like smoke. Ethan frowned, steadying her limp body. "Babe? You okay?"
Hasti didn’t hesitate. She stepped in.
Blonde hair. Pink lips. Long legs. Skin that Nashville adored without question.
When she opened her eyes, Ethan’s face melted into relief. "There you are."
Hasti—no, Aubrey, according to the ID in her clutch—smiled. "Here I am."
And when his lips met hers, she kissed him back, savoring the irony.
Ethan’s mouth was warm, insistent—the kind of kiss that probably made most girls melt. But Hasti (currently piloting Aubrey’s stolen body) felt nothing but burning satisfaction.
Here he is, so eager for a girl who’s basically a mannequin right now.
She let the kiss deepen for exactly three seconds—long enough to really sell it—then abruptly pulled back.
“Wait, what—” Ethan started, eyes dazed.
Hasti smirked. “Oops. Forgot something.”
And then she kneed him square in the crotch.
Ethan doubled over with a strangled “Guh—!”, his face turning a spectacular shade of purple as he crumpled against the elevator doors.
“Asshole,” Hasti hissed in Aubrey’s voice, smoothing down the girl’s short skirt. “Hope that stings all night.”
She left him wheezing on the floor and marched straight to the ladies’ room. Behind the locked stall door, she exhaled and let Aubrey’s consciousness slip back into place, guiding it gently like tucking a sleeping child into bed.
The blonde girl blinked, swaying slightly as she glanced around the bathroom, confused but unharmed. “What the… did I black out?” she muttered, touching her lips like she’d missed something.
Hasti’s spirit zipped back to her own body—still slumped in the bathroom stall—and gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her reflection stared back at her, grinning like a cat who got the cream. The tequila haze hit her full-force, but the giddy thrill of payback was stronger. She checked her reflection, wiped the smudged eyeliner, and strutted out to meet her friends.
"Oh my God, Hasti!" Maggie practically tackled her the second she stepped out of the bathroom. "You missed the best part!"
Layla was wheezing, clutching her stomach. "That blonde girl—the one you were just talking about? She knee’d that guy in the dick."
Maggie mimed an explosion with her hands. "Like, full-on ends of the earth devastation. He looked like he was gonna puke."
Hasti pressed a hand to her chest, feigning shock. "Really? But they seemed so perfect for each other."
Layla dabbed at her smudged eyeliner, still laughing. "Turns out Aubrey"—she said the name like it was a punchline—has standards. King Dickhead got exactly what he deserved."**
Hasti looped her arms through theirs as they stumbled toward the exit, the night air cool on her flushed skin. "Karma’s a beautiful thing," she sighed, grinning.
"Preach," Maggie said, raising an imaginary toast.
And as they spilled onto the sidewalk, laughing under the city lights, Hasti decided something: maybe she didn’t need to borrow anyone’s body to feel powerful.
But damn, it sure was fun.
And as they piled into an Uber, giddy and triumphant, she didn’t even glance back at the club—or the blonde girl now glaring at a still-wincing Ethan.
Some victories were sweeter in silence.
ftf
+4 more
2
6.4K
663
0
0
Navigate All Stories
Start New Story
-
Chapter by
ellaguru · 07 Feb 2025 -
A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
-
Loading...
-
Katelyn
My family sucks. I do love them, but sometimes they just suck. Thanks to them my life is usually a total mess. You see, I’m a reverse body hopper. What that means is, my family can possess my body so long as they collide with me at a high enough velocity. I then black out completely and wake up again whenever they decide to leave. Thank God this only works with my family and not with total strangers or my life would be over.
They constantly just take my body, and even when they ask they just keep begging and pleading until I finally give in. Well, the only exception is my Dad. He is just the greatest. He’s never even asked to take over my body. In fact, I’ve asked him to hop me before. He would often take over for me when I was sick or when my period was really bad. He’s the only one I can trust to take care of me and respect my body.
I mean, despite how that all sounds, they do love me, I know they do. That’s why they always try to make it up to me, by buying me gifts or doing stuff for me, like chores and my homework, or hitting the gym. I just wish I could spend some time around my family in peace and simply enjoy their company.
When I talk to my friends about it they make a way big of a deal out of it. It’s not like I feel violated or anything, more like just tired and annoyed. I’m probably just so used to it, even though I shouldn’t be, because it’s been going on for so long, longer that I can even remember. Sometimes it makes me feel like public property, like a shared family car that everyone wants to take for a ride. I can’t even imagine the countless amount of hours of my life that I lost to them.
But I guess it’s gotten better since I moved out, simply for the fact that I’m now out of their reach. Although that still doesn’t stop them from asking if they could borrow “me” for a while. Well, at least it’s easier to say “no” over the phone or via text. And as an added bonus, I don’t have to take the pill anymore. I never liked taking it as it messes with my hormones too much. I only took it as a safety precaution so that my family couldn’t do anything too stupid while they were inside of me.
Actually, it’s been a while since I visited my family, ’cause I’ve been so busy at work. I haven’t met all of them yet, since I arrived at my parent’s house very late last night. So far, I’ve only got to meet Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll see Robby and Chloe at breakfast or whenever they decide to get up.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waking up from my daydream, I realized that I had been in the shower for way too long. I turned off the water, reached for my towel, and began drying myself off. I always hated that part, because it made me miss the bliss and warmth of the hot water. Afterwards I got out of the shower and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. Then I stepped into hallway, closed the door behind myself and—
Robert
“Hihi. Welcome home, ‘sis’”, I giggled in my sister’s voice. I quickly flitted off to her room and tightly locked the door behind me. I immediately dropped the towel that “I” was wearing, revealing my older sister’s body in all her naked glory. “Oh, ‘Katy’. You can’t imagine how much I missed ‘you’”, I said, giving “myself” a big hug, squishing my sister’s enormous chest in the process.
I sauntered over to Katy’s full-length mirror, enjoying the sway of her hips with every step. I thoroughly looked her over from head to toe. Her body was simply perfect. Especially her boobs. “Man, I just love your huge rack,“ I told my “sister” while giving her giant globes a firm squeeze. I just couldn’t help myself.
It’s not like I have the hots for my sister. To me, her mind and her body are two separate things. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be a reverse body hopper. I mean, I don’t have a thing for my younger sister or my mom. But then again, neither of them are reverse hoppers.
By now, I’ve hopped my sister so often, that to me it doesn’t really feel like I’m wearing her body. It just feels like I’m being me—a different me. I’ve hopped her since I was a child, even before I hit puberty. The first time was a total accident, and back then she found it cute and adorable, maybe because I was, and also because she was always pretty motherly towards me; she’s my older sister after all. But ever since we, especially I, hit puberty, she disliked me hopping her more and more.
I guess it was bad timing that I discovered her ability when I did, which is probably the reason why I am attracted to her body. In a way you could say that we developed alongside each other, even though she had a two-year headstart. I mean, not many people get to experience growing up both as a boy and a girl, and in more than one way I am thankful for that. Because of her I know what it feels like to become a woman and I think that made us closer than any other siblings. Over the years, I got to experience the swelling of her breasts and the widening of her hips, among other things. And I always loved how her body felt so much softer. Maybe I was secretly envious of that, or maybe I just enjoyed the feeling, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, I’m a guy afterall and as a hormonal teenager I took advantage of that unique opportunity every way I could. My sister is the reason why, so far, I’ve only dated girls who are slightly older than me. I hopped her way more often than she even knows. There were times when I would sneak into her bedroom almost every. Thankfully, now that I’m older and in college, I have myself much better under control. Although it’s still hard to resist hopping her sometimes. But then again, that whole experience really taught me how to please a woman.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but a few weeks ago I even had sex with her when our little sister was wearing her. I just couldn’t help myself. The combination of my preexisting attraction to her body and my little sister coming on to me was simply too much for me not to give in. To this day, it was still the best sex I ever had. Sometimes, when the sex with a girlfriend gets a little boring, I imagine my sister in her place, which always perks me up again. One time I even accidentally said her name, which was the end of that relationship.
By now, “I” was already dripping wet as I had been rubbing “my” crotch and massaging “my” breasts the whole time I stood in front of the mirror. Feeling that my knees were getting weak, I hurried over and threw myself onto Katy’s bed. There I really went at it by reaching deep inside of my sister’s hole and groping her boobs and tweaking her nipples. I planned on giving her a warm welcome-home present, so I kept frantically sloshing two of her fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. After a few minutes of expert stimulation, I felt that her body was on the cusp of an orgasm and abruptly jumped out of her.
Katelyn
Like so many times before, I suddenly woke up in my room. I was lying on my bed, one hand clutching my breast, the other burried inside of me, the latter keept penetrating me, seemingly all on its own. Without a warning, a wave of pleasure hit me. A warm tingling bloomed between my legs and then ratiated outwards, coursing through my entire body. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, high-pitched moan. The sudden and intense pleasure made me squirt so much, I soiled both my hand and my bedsheets.
“Welcome home, sis,” my brother laughed with a big, dirty grin plastered across his face. “Robby, you asshole!” I yelled at him. As I pulled my hand from my vagina, strings of the gooey slime that coated my fingers followed it. “Ew, you’re such a disgusting pig.” “Why? Don’t you like your ‘present’?” he asked while he made a run for the door. “You could’ve at least cleaned up after yourself,” I tried to call after him, but he had already fled my room. “Great. Now I have to take another shower.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All clean again, I joined my parents at the breakfast table. The table was overflowing with food as my Mom had really gone all out to celebrate my long-awaited return home. “Did you sleep well, honey?” my mother asked. “Oh, yes, fantastic. It felt really great to sleep in my old bed again,” I said while I loaded my plate with waffles and fruits. “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” my father grumbled. “Just Robby being the prick that he usually is.” “Hmpf. I guess I need to have a word with him later.”
“Katyyyyy!” I heard my little sister yell as she ran towards me. I hadn’t even managed to get the first bite of my breakfast when she already gave me a big hug. “Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, sis!” “Did you really miss me or just my body?” I retorted. “Of course I missed you, silly. You’re my favorite sister.” “I’m your only sister,” I interjected. “Right. But since you brought it up: can I borrow ‘you’ today? Just for this morning, I promise. It’s been way too long since the last time.”
“Leave your sister alone, Chloe,” my Dad commanded. “You’ll make her feel not welcome in her own home. No wonder she is hardly here.” “Oh, she doesn’t mind, Daddy. Right sis?” she said, looking at me with her huge puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I do.” “Come on, Katy. Please? Just for a little bit!” “No,” I responded flatly. “Pleeeeeaaaase. I’ll even go to the gym for you. Remember how much you hate doing that?” “No, I don’t. You’re just making shit up. But, hmm, well. It’s been forever since I had any form of exercise. Work kept me really busy lately,” I pondered aloud. “Pretty please?” she said pouting her lips. “Ugh, fine, I guess,” I reletend. Chloe squealed in response.
“Sweety,” my Mom interjected timidly. “I’m sorry, this might be bad timing and come off as rude, but would you mind if tonight—”. “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I interrupted her annoyed. “You can all ‘borrow’ my body. But get it out of your systems today, ’cause there will be no hopping tomorrow! I—”
Chloe
“Chloe!” my Mom scolded me. “You could have at least let your sister eat breakfast herself,”. “But Moooom,” I whined in my older sister’s voice. “You heard her. She said it was okay.” I wolfed down my sister’s breakfast as fast as I could and then raced up the stairs and into Katy’s room, leaving my speechless parents behind.
Finally behind closed doors I began rubbing my sister’s flat belly. I loved doing that so much, her pussy always immediately begins to tingle in response. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as blessed in the looks departement as my older sister was. As far back as I can remember I have been chubby. And with each year, it’s gotten worse. I can’t seem to lose weight, no matter what I try. Which makes me feel jealous of her sometimes, even though I know that it isn’t her fault.
In contrast to mine, her body is really slim and always feels so light and full of energy. It even makes going to the gym a lot of fun. In my own body it is just pure torture. And the reactions I get from other people are just so different. When I’m her, people seem to adore me, but when I’m myself, they seem to despise me. Even though I’m the same person; only my looks change.
That’s the main reason why I’ve been hopping her since I was little. Also, being in her body always made me feel so mature and grown-up. I always felt especially proud when I was wearing her big boobs. I loved showing them off and catching someone trying to secretly glance at them (or sometimes even outright staring). Back then they seemed enormous, especially compared to, what I considered, my own underdeveloped body. In hindsight, when I look at them now in old photos, they don’t seem that big. Sure, they were bigger than those of other girls her age, but still, nothing compared to what she sports now.
At that time, three years simply seemed like such a huge gap, and I guess I was simply too imature. She was always just way ahead of me and I felt I could never catch up to her, even though to an actual adult she might have still looked like a child and not that much different from me.
Seducing guys as my sister is my favorite thing to do, especially since they won’t even look at me in my own body. It always gives me such a thrill. Seeing them squirm and try to impress me, just for me to ultimately blow them off anyway is so incredibly delicious. If they only could see the fat, ugly girl they were actually hitting on—their faces would be priceless.
A couple of weeks ago I even got my own brother in the sack. I’m not attracted to him per se, but there is something about the challenge of seducing someone who shouldn’t even be looking at you like. It was just irresistible to me. The greatest challenge yet would be fucking my Dad, but he’s way to old and even thinking about that is just yuck.
In the end though, seducing my brother turned out to be not too difficult, since he had been hopping our sister all the time anyway. That was a bit of a let-down, but the sex was still amazing. He really knows his way around a woman’s body, or at least Katy’s.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour later I arrived at the gym. I was wearing an outfit that I had bought just for my sister’s body. She refused to wear it herself since she always found it too revealing, but well, nothing she can do about it while I’m in charge. I mean, I have to admit, it’s basically just a sports bra that shows off her huge tits and exposes her toned midriff, paired with an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants. I especially love how far these pants are riding up inbetween her butt cheeks. Her ass is practically devouring them.
The moment I stepped into the building I had all he meatheads gawking at me. And who could blame them, when I’m always giving them a reason to, making sure to give them a show in my sister’s body. I guess they must have missed her as much as I did, since I used to be a regular in this gym before my sister moved out.
I started with my usual warm up routine. Every couple of minutes some jock would come up to me, trying to hit on me under the guise of “just giving advice”. I always initially flirt with them, even play a little dumb, only to then crush their feeble little egos by demonstrating how much more I knew about working out than them. Then I blow them off by making it crystal clear that their tiny, roided up dicks will never even get a whiff of my sister’s pussy. They always call me a bitch or a whore, or some other name, but eventually they all walk off deflated since they know that the security around here is pretty tight.
After I was finished with the “entrée”, I began serving the “main course”: squats to show off my sister’s firm ass (with a pair of tits on the side). Considering how much work I put into her booty over the years, I think by now half of it should be legally mine. Well, at least enough to call it “mine”.
By now, more and more guys came to approach me, sometimes even two of them at once. It was so hot seeing them fight over me. I even caught some guys filming me in the reflection of the of the mirror. Meanwhile, I kept teasing them and riling them up, all while having the plausible deniability of “working out“. Even though I was drenched in sweat from all the exertion, it wasn’t responsible for all the wetness on my body, at least not the one inbetween my legs.
I blew off the last guy buzzing around me and started putting away the weights in preparation to go home after a successful “workout”. As my gaze casually travelled around, not looking for anything in particular, my eyes suddenly honed in on what I then decided would become my “dessert”. I undid my ponytail, letting my sweat-drenched hair loose. While I sneaked up on my prey, I seductively swayed my hips, exuding confidence with ever step, and making “my” tits jiggle just the right amount. Over the years I had carefully cultivated and honed the skills to perfectly show of my sister’s body to the fullest. Unfortunately, these skills didn’t transfer to my own body, for obvious reasons.
I licked my luscious lips in anticipation as I came closer and closer to my target: a pale, scrawny, hairless nerd with thick glasses. You might wonder what a hot girl like “me” is doing approaching a “loser” like that. Well, let’s just say I have a thing for nerds. And also, I’m already very familiar with this particular geek. His name is Mark and he actually is in one of my college classes, but so far I didn’t have the confidence to approach him in my own body. In my sister’s body, on the other hand, I practically had an overabundance of it.
He was oblivious to my encroaching presence as he seemed preoccupied with his struggle to lift even the lightest of weights. When he realized that I was approaching him he looked befuddled and just stared at me like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, stud,” I said in a raspy whisper. “I’ve never seen you around here. Do you come here often?” “N-N-No,” he stammered. “I-I j-just started w-w-working out.” God, I love when people get nervous like that. It gets me all wet. Especially when they blush like that. “Oh, really? A hunk like you? Then where did you get these strong arms from?” I said while caressing his bicep—or rather, lack thereof. “A-Are you making fun of me?” “No, of course not,” I laughed, lightly slapping his feeble chest.
To get him on my good side again, I pulled out one of my favorite routines. I intentionally dropped something and then went, “Oopsie. I can really be such a klutz sometimes.” I made a show of it by clearly stepping in front of him, turning around, and then bending over.
For the cherry on top I pushed my ass against his crotch. The second our bodies touched, I could immediately tell how hard he was already. He tried to move away, but I just pushed even deeper into him. For good measure I began grinding against his member, eliciting a moan from him. When I got up I could see that his face was a deep crimson.
From afar I could hear a few men cursing and jeering, wondering why such a “hot chick” was grinding up against such a “pathetic little dweeb” like him. I could barely hide the devilish grin that appeared on “my” face. I stepped closer, pushed his tiny noodle of an arm inbetween my sister’s giant tits, and whispered in his ear, “it seems we have an audience. Would you prefer taking this somewhere private?” Unable to respond, all he could muster was to swallow hard. “I’ll take that as a yes,“ I said giving him a wink. Then I dragged him off to the locker rooms.
On the way over there he made a pathetic attempt at a protest, but even if he had tried to resist earnestly, I was still stronger than him. Finally arriving at our destination, I pushed him into one of the women’s changing rooms and locked the door behind us. This space was so tiny, we could almost feel our steamy breaths on each other’s skin. We were both reeking of sweat.
I pushed my chest out and looked at him expectantly, but he just stood there doing nothing. It was so cute how I had to coax him into everything. I took charge and, with determination, pulled up my sports bra, flopping out my sister’s huge rack. Yet, he still wouldn’t move. Even when I physically placed his hands onto my chest he acted like a dead fish.
“Come on. Play with them,” I commanded. “I want you to.” But still: nothing. Then I firmly grabbed his crotch, which finally seemed to wake him up. “I-I’m sorry. This is my first time,” he said bashfully while he began to clumsily fondle my boobs. It felt a lot like masturbating with your other hand. He was so adorable, which got me insanely hot.
While he kept playing with my Katy’s tits I began rubbing her pussy. At one point he even felt adventurous enough to tweak her nipples, which sparked a surprising amount of pleasure in my sister’s tender flesh. Man, Katy’s body simply feels incredible. If I could, I would never leave.
When I could feel “my” pussy quiver in demand for more, I knew that I was ready. I took his hand off my boobs, turned around, and then quickly pulled down my pants. Leaning against the wall, I stuck out my butt and presented him with my sister’s cleanly shaven folds. “Come on. Put it in. I’m hungry for your meat,” I said, my voice dripping with lust.
Unlike before, I didn’t have to tell him twice this time, which didn’t mean that he handled the situation more skillfully. He had trouble putting his dick in me, as he kept fumbling around, constantly missing the right hole. I giggled, seeing him all flustered like that. “Dammit! I-I’m sorry. T-This is my f-first time,” He kept saying that, which turned me on even more.
“Why don’t you let me handle that?” I said to him. Then I grabbed his shaft and guided it into the right entrance. I gasped as I felt him slowly pushing into me. This nerd was surprisingly well hung. Sure, I had way bigger dicks before, but compared to what you would expect from the rest of his physique, it was enormous.
It seemed that he was finally beginning to grow a pair. He started out very timidly, but with each thrust he gained more confidence, and rammed his prick into me ever more viciously. The more his ferocity increased, the louder I moaned. My ass cheeks jiggled every time his hips slapped against them. With the enormous speed that he was eventually going at, my whole body felt like it was vibrating.
“Yes! Yes! Harder!” I screamed in my sister's voice. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. In fact, I wanted them to hear us. I wanted everyone in this gym to know how much he satisfied me. Especially those troglodytes that kept hitting on me in vain. They should know that they are nothing compared to him.
He must have been close, because I felt him preparing for one big, final thrust. Unfortunately, his clumsiness hadn’t magically dissipated in the past few minutes, as he accidentally slipped out of me and, on his thrust forward, naturally missed the entrance. Instead, his dick slid up inbetween my cheeks and then burst, coating my entire back with his sperm. This last act of derpiness drove me wild and gifted me with an incredible climax. I almost collapsed, because my legs were shaking so much.
We were both breathing hard as we were coming down. When I recovered, I wordlessly pulled my pants up and put Katy’s boobs back into my sports bra. As a goodbye I gave him one final french kiss and said to him, “you were amazing. Let’s do this again some time.” I turned around and just left him standing there in disbelief, his mouth wide open, probably unable to comprehend what just had happened. I left the gym still with his masterpiece painted on my back for all to see.
Katelyn
I got my body back just in time for lunch. My sister returned my body clean and in perfect condition, although it was exhausted from the workout and my nether regions felt suspiciously funny. I was able to spend the afternoon as myself, because, luckily, Robby was occupied with some class project and, well, Dad doesn’t really want to hop me anyway. I spent my free time just lazing around and relaxing, recuperating from all the weeks of stress and whatever shenanigans Chloe was up to earlier. Unfortunately, time flew by way too quickly and soon it was time for my Mom to take over.
Susan
It was finally my turn to hop Katy, which got me nearly giddy. But in the back of my mind, I also felt bad that we all were so greedy when it came to her. She is rarely at home nowadays, and the few times she does come around, she barely has any time to be herself.
In the beginning, when we first found out about her powers, I wasn’t even interested in hopping her. I mean, why would I want to be a child again? And my own daughter at that? I simply did not care for that. But as she grew up and matured into a woman, I got a little curious.
The first time I hopped her was when she had just turned sixteen. She was about to go to a party with her friends when she came downstairs all dolled up. Seeing her like that got me really reminiscent, and I have to admit, a little envious as well. It made me nostalgic for my own youth and my “wilder” years, when I was out and about almost every weekend. So in a moment of weakness, when she wasn’t paying attention, I quickly jumped into her body and then went partying with her friends all night long. The next day she got really mad at me and made me make it up to her, because she had been looking forward to that night for a very long time.
But now she is a full-grown adult, with a job and her own apartement and everything. I still can’t believe how much Katy looks like myself, or at least how I did twenty-five years ago. Hopping her always feels like I’m stepping into a time machine. Goodbye saggy tits, adieu flabby love handles, and au revoir wrinkly skin. Everything about her was so taut and perky.
And the best is: her youthful body was just full of life and energy. Even my husband mentioned that when I’m in her body, there is always a certain glow about “her”. He said it’s like I’m radiating pure happiness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was close to nine p.m. and I was almost ready to go out. I had already applied all of my makeup and done “my” hair. The only thing left was to squeeze my daughter’s nubile body into the tightest dress that she owned. When I finally pulled the straps over her shoulders, I found that her cleavage was spilling out. Did her boobs grow again? I thought she was done with that. I don’t think I was ever this big, at least no while also being this slim. Kids these days are unbelievable.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The only thing I remember of that night is that I still had a strong buzz going when I arrived home. One strap of my dress had come off long ago, loosely dangling off my shoulder, and almost exposing my daughter’s nipple. I stumbled my way through the darkness as I didn’t want to turn the lights on so that I wouldn’t wake anyone. I even climbed the stairs on all fours just to stay as quiet as possible. Eventually I made my way to the master bedroom, where my husband was snoring in a deep slumber. I just crawled onto the bed and under the blanket, not even bothering to undress.
I don’t know whether it was the residual alcohol, all the guys at the club, or the fact that I was in my daughter’s youthful body, but I was incredibly horny. I tried playing with “myself” so I could finally fall asleep, but that didn’t help. Frustrated from the lack of release I carefully peeled back the blanket. I immediately went for my husbands bottoms, delicately fishing out his big, juicy cock. Even though I could hardly see anything, it looked so delicious and felt so plump in my daughter’s soft hands. Without hesitation I started sucking him off like I had so many times before, in a way that I knew would get him hard in seconds.
I managed to bob my head up and down his shaft only a few times, having hardly any time to enjoy his familiar taste, before he was good to go. I slowly errected myself, making sure not to shift my weight too abruptly. Luckily, my husband was still fast asleep. I swung one leg over, pulled my panties aside, and then lowered myself onto him. I gasped when I felt the tip of his thick member enter our daughter’s dripping wet pussy. I greatly enjoyed every inch of him slowly sliding up inside of me. I was practically impaling myself.
Feeling his girth part our daughter’s young, forbidden folds was simply too much for me: I accidentally let a small moan slip out. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth and froze any and all of my movements. After a small, silent pause his snoring resumed and I continued on. Eventually I bottomed out and my husband now had his whole sex embedded inside of his own daughter.
I started gently gyrating my hips back and forth, “my” lips rubbing against him in the process. The resulting friction cheered me on to go faster. My husband’s snores soon turned into mumbling and then into moans. I practically devoured his cock, as I was now bouncing up and down on him, swallowing him whole with “my” slippery cunt. In my own body I couldn’t have done that. I’m simply too old now.
At some point he must have been at least half-awake, because he grabbed my hips and started thrusting as he moaned my name. I know it was probably too dark for him to see anything properly, but having him confuse our daughter’s body for myself really gave both my ego and my arousal a huge spike. In that moment I felt really mischievous, and also a little bit naughty, so to tease him I simply moaned, “Oh, yes, Daddy!” His eyes suddenly flew wide open and he sputtered in shock, as he only now realized that he was fucking his own daughter.
He tried to push me off, but he was severly weakend due to all of the pleasure I was giving him. “Wait, Katy! What are you doihhhnggg—oh my God—ooooohhhhhhh…,” he groaned as his creamy load exploded inside of “me”. Unfortunately, “my” body wasn’t satisfied yet, as I desperately kept riding dick, which became more and more limp with every second.
After a couple of deep breaths he seemed to have regained both a clear mind and his strength. He tried to wrestle me off of himself, causing me to lose balance. He lunged to catch me but I only managed to yelp as we both fell off the bed.
Walter
I suddenly found myself lying on something that was both hard and soft at the same time. My mind was hazy and I felt very disoriented. It all happened so fast: one moment I was having sex with my wife, but then suddenly my daughter seemed on top of me. Everything seemed like a dream and I still wasn’t sure whether I was actually awake. On top of that I felt not only drunk but also aroused, and there was something gooey inside of me. My mind was in total chaos.
Then I felt something stirring underneath me. “I’m sorry honey, but could get off of me?” I heard my wife say. I rolled off of her and onto the floor, still unsure what was going on. “Honey, is that you? What happened?” I groaned, my voice sounding off. I rolled over and onto my stomach so I could get up more easily. But somehow I rolled onto two giant pillows that were now squeezed between me and the floor. Then it finally dawned on me: I was in my daughter’s body.
“Wait … why am I in Katy’s body?” I wondered. It finally clicked. “Whatthehell? Whatwereyouthinking?” I slurred my words. “Sshhh, not so loud. You’ll wake the kids,” my wife said. “Susan, what is wrong with you? How could you have sex with me in Katy’s body. This is our daughter for crying out loud?” “I’m sorry,” my wife said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t control myself. I was drunk.” “What if she finds out?” I panicked.
I tried standing up, but my knees were just too wobbly for that. “Let’s get you off the floor first,” my wife said as she helped me. My daughter’s underwear felt uncomfortably wet, as it seemed to have caught a large gob of my essence. As I leaned on my wife for support, I could even feel a little bit of it leaking down my leg. “Ugh, I feel disgusting,” I moaned.
My wife helped me get onto the bed and then joined me on the other side, sitting next to me. We kept arguing in hushed voices for about half an hour, debating back and forth how we would handle this situation, but we couldn’t agree on a solution. “I’m terribly sorry about what I did,” she whispered. “Let’s just go to sleep for now and talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” “Fine,” I grumbled. I turned on my side, away from my wife, while she gently stroked my head.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Susan seemed to have fallen asleep rather quickly as I could hear her snoring not much later. I, on the other hand, had trouble finding rest: I was simply too upset. And besides, “my” loins were still burning with desire, probably because my wife was unable to finish her escapades. I tried fighting it the entire time, but in the end, I cracked. Despite the imense pleasure I got from “playing with myself”, I felt really terrible for violating my own daughter’s body. She should have never been touched like that by her own father.
As my fingers were hastily going in and out, I unwittingly kept pushing my very own seed deeper and deeper inside of her. I was writhing underneath the blanket, inside my daughter’s body, right next to my sleeping wife. That thought finally pushed me over the edge. Trying to stay as quietly as possible, I bit my lip and just “exhaled” deeply. I could feel all that built-up tension melt away. Having found release, my eyes lids suddenly became ver heavy and I was finally able to fall asleep.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. “Ugh, Susan, honey, I don’t think I feel so good,” I groaned. I flopped my arm over to search for my wife right next to me but ultimately I only found empty space. She must have gotten up already. Groggily I dragged myself out of bed. With my body feeling like a bag of bricks I stumbled all the way to the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the lights and then let out a big yawn while rubbing my eyes.
Looking in the mirror, I blinked and squinted until I was able to focus. But when I finally managed to have a clear look, I was in for a shock: in front of me stood my daughter in the worst state I had ever seen her in. Her hair was a total mess and her makeup smudgy. Both straps of her dress had come loose, exposing her chest. And the hem had curled up around her waist, revealing large, crusty stains on her underwear. The events of last night finally came back, hitting me like a freight train.
I had to grab the sink to balance myself, as I was suddenly hit by a spell of dizziness. My heart was racing and I started hyperventilating. Oh my God, what had we done? What had I done? Images of my and our indecent acts from last night kept flashing in my mind. I felt so disgusted, I almost started vomiting.
I tried forcing myself to calm down by first taking control of my breath. Inhale … exhale … in … and out … in … and out. Slowly I managed to calm down enough to gather some thoughts. The first thing I decided on was to take a shower and clean “myself” up. I did not want our daughter to wake up to her body in such a disgusting state and find out what we did to her like that.
I gulped when I realized that this meant I had to see her naked. I try not to look at her in a sexual way. She is my daughter after all. But it’s hard sometimes, because she looks just like her mother did twenty-five years ago. Last night was the first time ever that I had done something indecent with or inside of her body.
Eventually I had to bite the bullet and began undressing. I tried keeping my eyes shut, but that turned out to be too much of a hindrance. After I was done, I tried to give my daughter at least some amount of decency by crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. But unfortunately, this made me hyper-aware of her body parts, as “my” arms were squishing her breasts and “my” thighs kept squeezing her folds. My daughter’s face was now beet red and I looked away in embarrassment.
I realized, that if I was going to do this, then I had to do it quickly, because there was no apparent way around it and the longer it took the worse it would get. I practically jumped into the shower, closed the shower curtain, and turned on the water, all in one swift motion. The second the hot water hit my skin I could quite literally feel the dirt and grime wash away. Relaxation spread all over myself and for a moment I even forgot that I was in my daughter’s body.
Washing her hair and face was no problem, but when it was time for her boobs I felt like a pervert. Just calling them that—“boobs”—gave me a bit of an ick. But I felt even more perverted for enjoying it. I just couldn’t deny how big and soft they were. And how firm her butt was.
I “saved” the worst part for the end: cleaning her private parts. I really didn’t want to after what I did last night, but there was still quite a lot of dried up residue from left inside of her. Reluctantly I began entering my daughter, only one finger at first. As I kept scrubbing her inner walls, “it” responded by quivering and “thanking” me with a tingling sensation. I cursed myself for liking it.
The entire time I fought hard to ignore the “positive feedback” I was getting. But the longer it lasted and the deeper I went, the more I liked it. Eventually I had to stop fooling myself and admit that I wasn’t cleaning anymore, but instead I was getting off in my daughter’s body again. Soon after I peaked and cried out, my daughter’s voice filled with pleasure. I breathed hard as this time it wasn’t just the feeling of water that was washing all over her body.
When I finally came down from my high, I was left with regret and disgust. Even though my daughter’s body was now perfectly clean, my mind felt incredibly dirty.
Katelyn
When I got my body back the day after, my parents acted really fishy. They tried to pretend like nothing happened and were trying to play it off when I asked them directly, but I could cleary tell that something was up by the way they were avoiding eye contact. Reluctantly I returned home in the evening. During the weeks after that, my family kept hopping me less and less, even though I would visit home more often. The few times they did hop me they would do so at odd times and without even asking beforehand, almost like they had planned it.
Also, I noticed that my belly had grown a bit. At first I thought that I was gaining weight, but one weekend, when I was staying home, I realized that I hadn’t had my period in quite some time. The moment that realization hit me, the pieces began falling into place: my parents had hopped me every time I was supposed to be due. Through all the seemingly random hoppings I kind of lost track of my cycle, and generally paid less attention to it.
I immediately did a pregnancy test, which confirmed what I had feared: yes, I was pregnant. My first reaction was disbelief. But when the reality of it all sank in, I became overwhelmed to the point dizziness. After I had some time to digest the news, I became incredibly livid. Not only did they do something so horrendously stupid to me, they also tried to cover up their mistake, dodging any and all responsibility.
Fuming, I drove over to their house to confront them with the facts, getting a hefty speeding ticket on the way there. When I threw the results of my pregnancy test in their faces, they were dead silent. Like before they wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. And every time they did manage to open their pathetic mouths, they were just squirming. It was insanely frustrating. I just barely managed to get out of them that, yes, I was indeed pregnant with my father’s child. Speechless, I just stormed off. I went “no contact” with them and blocked them on all my devices, unsure when or if I ever would speak to them again.
As for the baby that is growing inside of me: I’m very likely not going to keep it. I mean, I wasn’t planning on becoming a mother so soon; I’m not even in a relationship right now. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on having my father’s child. Considering how I was treated in my life so far, I think that I don’t even want to have children—ever. I don’t want them to run the risk of becoming a reverse hopper like me; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone.
Well, right now, the future seems really uncertain.
No more chapters.
This gives Ella enchanted vibes where she was magicked to always say yes to stuff.
Great writing and would love to see this concept explored more