Cheer Megazord
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Stacey and her team are chosen to fight an alien invasion
mind control possession Superheroes body horror
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A witch is invited to a college party and offers a special game of Beer Pong. It is a very special version of hooking up.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
The silence in the room was thick enough to chew. All eyes were locked on Keisha and the impossible sight of Tai’s arms buried deep within her. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her body trembling not with fear, but with volcanic rage.
“Maybe I can dig it out with my other hand?” Tai offered, his voice muffled and strained from inside her.
“TAI! DON’T YOU DA—” Keisha’s command was obliterated by a guttural, choking scream as his second hand plunged in after the first, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance stretching with an audible, wet sssskkkrtch to accommodate the double intrusion. Inside, the sensation was beyond anything she could have conceived. It wasn't just a presence; it was a colonizing force. She could feel the precise shape of his fingers, the rough texture of his palms as they brushed against her most intimate internal walls, exploring, mapping her from the inside out. A hot, full pressure began to build deep in her core, a feeling of being packed, filled beyond her limits.
“Vivian,” Keisha hissed, her voice dripping with venom, every word a struggle. “There is currently a Korean man wedged shoulder deep in my anal cavity. Would you PLEASE do something about it before he explodes out through my stomach?”
Vivian’s eyes lit up with demonic glee. “Oooh, do something about it?! I thought you’d never ask!” She practically skipped behind Keisha, placing her small foot squarely on the small of Tai’s back, the only part of him still visible.
The kick wasn’t forceful, but it was decisive. With a sound like a giant cork being pulled from a bottle of thick oil, followed by a deep, resonant FWUMP, Tai’s torso was suddenly propelled inward. Keisha’s eyes shot wide, then instantly rolled back into her head, a strangled grunt the only protest she could muster as her body accepted the violation. Her glorious, sculpted ass cheeks quivered violently before clapping together with a final, wet smack, sealing Tai completely inside her. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, her body humming with the shock of the intrusion.
Then, the real transformation began.
A distinct bulge, the unmistakable outline of a man’s face, pushed against the tight, toned skin of her lower abdomen. Keisha looked down, her horror reflected in the faces of the onlookers. “Wha— what is that?” she gasped, her hands flying to the protrusion. As she touched it, the face within seemed to smile, stretching her skin grotesquely.
The rest of Tai followed in a relentless, internal avalanche. She felt him bundling into her stomach, a tangle of limbs and mass forcing her midsection to distend outward. Her flat, hard-won abs disappeared, replaced by a bloated, pregnant dome that strained her skin. Inside, it was a maelstrom. Tai, disoriented and panicked, began to thrash. His knees jerked, and Keisha’s legs buckled involuntarily. His elbows flailed, and her arms spasmed at her sides. She stumbled, a marionette with a frantic puppeteer trapped inside her, emitting a series of choked yelps and moans with every involuntary movement.
“You said you were going to help!” Keisha accused Vivian, her voice wavering as she struggled to remain upright.
Vivian just blinked. “I did help you. Is he still stuck?”
Keisha’s mental struggle was a silent scream in a dissolving prison. My body! This is MY body! she thought, a mantra of defiance. But with every thrash, Tai’s consciousness seeped into her nerves, his confusion and panic becoming her own. She felt his legs, strong and muscular, sliding into the length of her own. It was a horrifying, stretching sensation, like her bones were being remolded. Her thighs, already powerful, gained a new, thicker solidity. Her calves tightened. And then, with a final, psychic click, control of her legs was severed from her brain and handed over to his. He was in charge of moving them now.
The loss of autonomy was more terrifying than the physical invasion. She tried to command her legs to step forward, but they remained rooted. Instead, Tai, blindly seeking leverage, forced them to collapse.
She fell backward, her enormous new ass—now the seat of his consciousness—thudding onto the carpet with a jiggle that sent a shockwave through her frame. The impact seemed to energize him. Using the new-found anchor of her lower body, he began to push upward, trying to climb out of the fleshy well of her torso.
Keisha’s upper body was dragged across the floor, her back arching, her head lolling. She was a passenger, forced to feel every graze of the carpet, every powerful, uncoordinated jerk. Next, his arms slipped into hers. The feeling was one of overwhelming fullness; her biceps and forearms thickened, gaining a lean, wiry strength that was entirely his. Her hands, once her own, now felt alien, their movements his impulses.
The final assault was on her head. The bulging face in her stomach began its ascent, tunneling up through her organs, a relentless pressure moving up her diaphragm, between her lungs, pushing her breasts aside. She could feel the shape of his nose, his lips, his brow ridge moving up through her core. Her neck distended, a grotesque balloon animal version of itself as his head forced its way into the column. She arched her back, a final, desperate attempt to keep her own head above the rising tide of him, her eyes locking with Vivian’s in a final promise of vengeance.
“Remember, bitch. I WILL get you back for this.”
It was her last coherent thought. His skull pressed up against the base of her own, and with a final, full-body spasm that was entirely his doing, he merged. It was like a key turning in a lock. Her consciousness didn’t vanish; it was simply… submerged, pushed into a tiny, dark corner of her own mind. She was aware, but she was no longer in control. She could only watch, a ghost in her own machine, as her eyes—his eyes now—snapped open.
“Holy shit, was that a ride!” The voice that came from her mouth was Tai’s—his cadence, his excited pitch—but filtered through Keisha’s softer vocal cords, creating a strange, androgynous sound. He sat up, using her hands to grab a fistful of her own wispy raven hair, his amazement palpable. “Thank god I landed on this bean bag when I fell though, I’d hate to damage the goods before I got to sample them!” He chuckled, patting the generous curve of her ass beneath him.
From the corner, Danny, still lounging on the actual beanbag, piped up. “But dude, I’m on the bean bag! You didn’t land on anything bro. That’s just Keisha’s…”
A look of dawning, ecstatic comprehension spread across Keisha’s features—Tai’s expressions now. “OH SWEET MOSES!” he exclaimed, the voice a perfect blend of his shock and her tone. He scrambled to his feet—her feet—with an agility that was all his. His hands, her hands, flew to the monumental cheeks he’d just been sitting on, groping and kneading the flesh with ravenous disbelief.
The sensation was double-layered: Tai’s euphoric discovery and, buried deep within, Keisha’s mortified, screaming silence as she felt her own hands violating her in ways she never had. He shook his—their—hips, watching in a nearby reflective surface as the jiggle propagated in a wave of mesmerizing motion.
“Is this what she feels ALL THE TIME!” he whooped, his laughter echoing in the silent, stunned room. Inside, Keisha fought, a desperate mental push against a wall of overwhelming control. She tried to scream, to regain a muscle, but was pulled into Tai. She was no longer separate but now a part of Tai. Her body was no longer hers. It was now Taisha’s. And Taisha was thrilled.
When Philip and Jack are given the challenge of going on a panty raid through the sorority next door to secure their place as pledges at Delta Epsilon, Philip's heart sinks.
With the sorority girls having already taken well known countermeasures to deal with any would be panty thieves, he thinks the chances of completing the challenge are near zero.
However, when his best friend Jack claims to have a plan involving a little magic and burrowing the bodies of his crush Vanessa and her roommate Katy, he knows he is in for a long night ahead when things don't exactly end up going to plan...
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The floor of Delta Epsilon’s house was sticky.
Beer, cheap cologne, and stale pizza had seeped into the carpet like a second skin, and Philip had the honor of scrubbing it clean while half a dozen brothers lounged on couches watching basketball highlights.
“Missed a spot,” one of them called, deliberately tilting a red Solo cup so that the last of his drink bled out onto the carpet inches from Philip’s sponge.
Philip clenched his jaw. He’d been degraded all semester, fetching fast food at three in the morning, running errands that skirted the edge of being criminal, serving as human furniture during drinking games. He told himself it would be worth it. Delta Epsilon’s parties were legendary, the kind of place girls lined up to get into. More importantly, alumni connections meant a shot at internships that led to real careers. You suffered now, you cashed in later.
Jack, naturally, thrived. He was perched on the arm of a sofa, balancing a tray of wings for two seniors, grinning like the humiliation was a party of its own.
“How’s that knee grease holding up, Phil?” he teased, eyebrows bouncing. Philip muttered something under his breath, pressing the sponge hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He’d thought pledging with his best friend would make things easier. Instead, Jack’s bottomless energy only made Philip feel like the boring one, always one step away from quitting.
The pledge master, Trent, finally called them over once the brothers had eaten their fill.
“You’ve made it further than many,” he said, addressing both Philip and Jack while tapping the ash off his cigar. “Scrubbing toilets, babysitting drunk brothers, taking whatever punishment we throw at you, you did it all without complaint. But Delta doesn’t hand out membership for free. There’s one last hurdle.”
Jack’s eyes lit up, while Philip felt his stomach knot. Trent leaned forward. “You’ve got until Saturday morning to bring us proof that you’re worthy of being Delta Epsilons. And by proof, I mean the underwear of one of the Theta sisters across the street.”
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Someone whistled. Another shouted, “Better hope they’re lace!”
Philip’s face burned hot. He’d expected something brutal. A dangerous stunt, or maybe even a tattoo or branding, not…this. Not something that felt like the set-up to a police record for being a creep.
Jack, of course, grinned like he’d just been handed a golden ticket. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Piece of felony,” Philip muttered.
Trent ignored the comment. “You get caught, that’s your problem. Theta girls are sick of pranks. They’ll eat you alive if they catch you sneaking around. Fail, and you’ll have to re-pledge next semester, if we even let you back in. Succeed, and you’ll be full brothers by sunrise.”
He flicked his cigar ash into an empty beer can, and the matter was closed. Philip and Jack were dismissed like servants, slipping out into the cool night air. The frat house behind them thumped with bass as the next round of drinking games began.
Across the street, the Theta house glowed with warm yellow light, its windows alive with the silhouettes of girls laughing, moving and living in a world that felt forbidden.
Philip shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “This is insane. They want us to break into a sorority house. Forget expulsion, that’s actual jail time if we’re caught and reported.”
Jack slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Come on, man. It’s tradition. Everybody who ever wore Delta letters has done something crazy like this. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Philip shrugged him off. “You mean you’ll figure it out. And drag me with you.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Exactly. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” That phrase, I’ve got a plan, was the single most dangerous thing Jack could say. Philip knew better, but as he stared up at the Theta house, he couldn’t shake the truth. They’d come too far to back out now.
Philip assumed Jack’s “plan” would be something stupid but doable. Like sneaking into the Theta laundry room, bribing a janitor, or maybe finessing a stolen bra from lost-and-found.
What he didn’t expect, as their deadline creeped ever closer, was Jack pulling a battered paperback out of his backpack like he’d just smuggled the Necronomicon out of the library and declaring their troubles were about to be a thing of the past.
“What is that?” Philip asked, eyeing the faded title embossed with moons and symbols.
“Wiccan Rites and Rituals of the Body,” Jack said with a grin so wide it could split his face. “This baby is going to get us in.”
Philip stared. “That’s not a plan you idiot. That’s…props from a bad horror movie.”
“Correction,” Jack said, flipping through pages until he landed on one marked with a sticky note. “It’s a possession spell. All we need is something personal from the Thetas. Hair is perfect. One strand, and we’re golden.”
Philip blinked. “Hair. You want us to pluck a strand off someone’s head, mix it into some potion, and what? Astral-project into their underwear drawer?”
Jack leaned forward, whispering even though there was nobody else around. “Exactly. But into them, not their underwear drawer.”
For a moment, Philip couldn’t even find words. His friend was dead serious. His blue eyes glittered with the manic light of a man who believed in his own insanity. Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jack, you need help.”
“Correction again. We need help, and this is it. Think about it. We don’t sneak around, we don’t break and enter, we just become them. Walk right in the front door. Grab what we need and walk back out again. Easy as pie.”
Philip wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Jack this was why pledges got expelled, why college urban legends started with two idiots reading a so-called spell book. But something about Jack’s certainty unsettled him.
“How do you even plan to get the hair?” Philip asked, deciding to humor him.
Jack smirked. “You’re partnered with Vanessa in chem lab. I’m with her roommate, Katy. Both of them happen to belong to the Theta Sorority. Boom. Easy.”
Philip’s stomach lurched. Vanessa, the Vanessa, the girl he’d spent the better part of a semester trying not to stare at. She was sharp, funny, gorgeous, and so out of his league it hurt. The idea of stealing a strand of her hair wasn’t just impossible, it was mortifying.
“Jack, if I even look at her hair the wrong way she’ll know. She’ll tell everyone. I’ll be branded as the campus creep for the rest of my life.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Relax. I’ll take care of mine. You just…fumble your way through like usual. She likes you, right? I’m sure she’s called you sweet before. She won’t even notice.”
Lab that afternoon was a fluorescent blur of glassware and nerves. Bunsen burners hissed, and the sharp scent of acetone hung in the air. Vanessa tied her glossy black hair into a messy bun as she leaned over the counter, the soft hum she made under her breath cutting through the low chatter of other pairs.
Philip adjusted the clamp on their stand and tried to steady his hands, pretending to check the thermometer while sneaking a glance at her profile. The long lashes, the soft curve of her cheek when she smiled. He’d barely worked up the nerve to say something to her, when the door swung open and Ryan Hale strolled in.
Ryan wasn’t a student in their class, he was a teaching assistant who was busy with his Masters. The kind of nerd who looked more like he belonged in a movie poster than a chemistry lab. The Henry Cavill of the campus. Tall, effortlessly confident, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing forearms that probably did not belong to someone who spent his evenings doing titration reports.
“Need a hand, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth enough to make the words sound like an inside joke.
Vanessa’s whole face lit up. “Ryan! You’re still hanging around the underclassmen? I thought you were too cool for basic chem.”
“Guess I missed the fun crowd.” He winked, stepping close enough that Philip caught the faint smell of his cologne. Something woodsy and smug. Philip’s stomach twisted. He busied himself pretending to check their notes, but every word between Vanessa and Ryan pulled his focus like a hook through his ribs.
“Still showing off that perfect technique, huh?” Ryan teased, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Could use someone like you to calibrate my disastrous love life.”
Vanessa laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I told you last time, you need better lab partners, not better lines.”
“Maybe I just need one who actually likes me,” he said, voice dipping into something low and knowing. “You still wearing that purple dress that makes everyone else forget the experiment?”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Keep talking, and you’ll set the sprinklers off again.”
Ryan chuckled, backing away with a little salute. “Worth it.”
Philip’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He shifted his beaker just to make noise. “Vanessa, uh, the solution’s ready,” he muttered.
She turned back, still smiling, a faint pink on her cheeks. “Right, sorry, I got distracted.” The way she said it made Philip want to vanish into the nearest fume hood.
Ryan gave him a nod that felt more like dismissal. “Good work, man. Don’t let her boss you around too much.”
Philip forced a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Ryan finally moved on to check another table, the tension in Philip’s shoulders eased only slightly. Vanessa was still smiling to herself, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “He’s such a dork,” she said fondly.
“Yeah,” Philip replied, voice flat. “A real geek.”
She glanced at him, oblivious. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Fine,” he lied. His pulse thundered. He hated how obvious it felt. The jealousy, the ridiculous possessiveness over a girl who barely saw him as more than a partner for lab reports.
Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was all charm. Katy, tall, athletic, focused on the work at hand with cool intensity, rolled her eyes at his constant jokes, but she didn’t seem to actively hate him. Jack’s hands moved casually, as if the experiment was background noise to whatever ridiculous story he was spinning.
Philip’s heart pounded. He couldn’t do it. Not to Vanessa. The thought of deliberately stealing a piece of her felt worse than any frat punishment. But then her bun slipped, and a single strand drifted onto the lab bench.
Philip froze and stared at it like it was radioactive. One perfect strand, right there. All he had to do was pick it up without her noticing. His hand twitched. Sweat beaded at his hairline. Vanessa reached for the pipette, and he panicked. He grabbed the strand too quickly, shoving it into his pocket like a thief.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “You good?” she asked.
Philip’s laugh came out strangled. “Yeah. Totally. Fine. Just, science, you know?”
She gave him a strange look, then turned back to the experiment. Across the room, Jack caught his eye and subtly flashed a triumphant thumbs-up. He mouthed, Got it. Philip wanted to throw up.
After class, they met outside, ducking into a quiet corner near the library. Jack pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and wiggled it proudly. Katy’s strand of hair gleaming inside. Philip shoved his hands deep into his hoodie, where Vanessa’s strand burned against his palm like contraband.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “If she’d caught me, I’d have been ruined.”
Jack was practically buzzing. “But she didn’t. We’ve got everything. Today, we drink the potion. Tomorrow, we’re legends.”
Philip stared at him, feeling his chest tighten. It wasn’t the frat house that scared him anymore. It was Jack’s unwavering certainty, the gleam in his eye like he’d already crossed a line Philip couldn’t even see.
Back in their room, Jack had cleared his desk, pushing aside textbooks and laundry to make space for the battered paperback and a mess of supplies that looked like they’d been stolen from a Spirit Halloween clearance bin. Mason jars, candles, a bag of salt and something that Philip really, really hoped was red food coloring.
Philip sat on the bed, arms crossed, trying not to look at the plastic bag in his pocket. Inside was Vanessa’s hair, a single dark strand that felt heavier than lead.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm, and we’ll get kicked out before we even fail the pledge.”
Jack was hunched over the desk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he measured powder into a chipped coffee mug.
“Correction. You’re going to stop being so negative, because we’re going to waltz into Theta’s house like we own it and take our time finding the perfect proof. Something small, sexy and lacy. Then we hand it to Trent and we’re done. Easiest initiation ever and we’re lifelong members of the Delta Epsilon brotherhood.”
Philip shook his head. “You actually believe all the crap coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Because I know this is going to work.” Jack’s grin was feral. He held up his mug, fizzing with something dark and faintly purple. “And very soon, you’re going to have to swallow all your pessimistic, dismissive words and admit that I’m the GOAT.” Without waiting for a response, he dropped Katy’s wavy strand of hair into the concoction.
Philip looked at his own brew, waiting for him on the desk. It reeked faintly of vinegar and something metallic. “This looks like cough syrup that went bad.”
Jack grabbed the paperback, muttering words under his breath. Latin? Gibberish? Philip couldn’t tell. The candlelight threw shadows across Jack’s face, making him look more unhinged than usual.
“Jack,” Philip said slowly, “You get that if this doesn’t work, we may be drinking poison?”
“Trust me,” Jack said, gesturing meaningfully at Philip’s mug. Those two words had been the prelude to every disaster Philip had lived through with him. The broken window in high school. The near arrest in freshman year. And now this.
Philip sighed, pulled Vanessa’s hair from his pocket, and dropped it into the liquid. It curled and fizzed, dissolving into the mixture like it had never been.
“Bottoms up,” Jack said cheerfully, chugging the contents in one long pull.
Philip raised his mug. The liquid shimmered oddly, like heat ripples above asphalt. He pinched his nose and tossed it back. It burned. Like swallowing melted pennies chased with bleach. His stomach roiled instantly, bile rising up.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked, slamming the cup down. “That’s not magic, that’s battery acid.”
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing hard, but his grin didn’t falter. “Wait for it.”
Philip blinked and the dorm room folded in on itself. Candlelight bent sideways and the next breath tasted like coffee and paper. He was not in their room anymore. He was sitting at a table under tall windows, late afternoon light spilling amber over open textbooks and half empty cups.
The scent was library quiet and caffeine. Hair slid across his cheek. Definitely not his. It was long and silky. His hands were smaller, nails pink, wrists delicate. The weight on his chest tugged when he breathed. He was looking through Vanessa’s eyes.
Across from him, Katy sat in a chair with a pen in her hand and her mouth parted in a quiet, startled sound that belonged to Jack. “Holy shit,” Jack whispered in Katy’s voice.
Philip’s pulse spiked. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked under his breath, before the realization hit him fully. Jack’s crazy plan worked. He glanced down, eyes bugging at the soft cleavage he encountered. He was on the verge of completely freaking out. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. The sound of Vanessa's voice only sent him spiraling further into chaos.
Jack’s grin curled slow and wicked as he looked down at himself and then around them. He started to pull the top of Katy’s tank forward so he could peek at her breasts, before Philip shot him a look that could choke a man at twenty paces.
“Don’t,” Philip hissed. “Katy would never do something like that in public!”
Jack laughed, high and breathy in Katy’s voice. “You’re telling me you’re not even curious? Come on, man. We’re in. This is unreal. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to them when we touch them?”
Philip swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from spiraling into sensory overload.
“This…this isn’t possible,” he whispered. But the evidence pressed in from every side. The scent of citrus shampoo in his hair, the tug of bra straps against his shoulders, the fullness in his chest when he inhaled. The emptiness where his cock should be.
Philip’s eyes darted anxiously around the library cafe. “We need to get out of here before someone notices something off,” Philip said. “People pick up on the smallest wrong note.” He was terrified that someone would realize the girls were possessed.
He spent way too much time staring at Vanessa, but that didn’t mean he could copy her actions. If anyone watched them closely, they’d know immediately that there were impostors inhabiting Vanessa and Katy.
“We should go back to their room and fool around,” Jack suggested immediately, hands on Katy’s breasts, squeezing idly.
“Jesus, Jack, stop that! They’re in public. We’re in public…”
This was such a mind-fuck. Clearly they were literally possessing Vanessa and Katy’s bodies. Where was Vanessa's consciousness now? Asleep? Aware? He didn’t feel like someone was watching him, so hopefully she had no idea what he was doing. And where were his and Jack’s bodies? Still in their dorm room? Fuck. If he’d known there was any chance of this working, he’d never have gone through with it.
“Come on bestie, let’s go home,” Jack cooed at him. “I’m just dying to get out of these pesky clothes.”
Jack clearly had zero second thoughts about any of this. Then again, Jack had never had a second thought in his life. He rarely had first ones. Philip decided that only made him a bigger idiot for always following his friend’s crazy plans.
Philip took a deep breath, gathered Vanessa’s things and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder before getting up on shaky legs. The plan was to reach Theta house without interacting with anyone who knew the girls.
Vanessa was outgoing and popular, so he kept his eyes trained on the ground to avoid any accidental socializing.
He was doing his best to focus on the mission, but every move betrayed him. Vanessa’s curves shifted differently from his own. Her hips swayed without permission when he walked. The tug of the denim skirt around her thighs was tighter than he was used to, the waistband sitting higher, the soft curtain of hair continuously falling into his eyes. And he kept fighting the urge to run his fingertips over her lustrous, satiny skin.
Philip thanked his lucky stars that it was late afternoon sliding toward evening and most of the Theta girls were either at dinner, in class, or busy with the mixer prep.
The second piece of good luck was the fact that the first year members of the sorority had the downstairs bedrooms and Katy and Vanessa had their names picked out in glittery wooden letters on their door. Which saved him and Jack from being caught wandering aimlessly into someone else’s room and rifling through their underwear.
“Come on,” he hissed at Jack, nearly having heart failure when he heard Vanessa’s sweet, bubbly voice, before remembering it came from his own mouth.
As soon as they entered the room, Philip froze like a deer in headlights.
The room smelled like them. A heady mix of perfume, make-up and detergent. Several photos of Vanessa and Katy were pinned to the notice board. Keys with a little Theta charm lay on a desk. Lip gloss on each bedside table. A folded flyer about the upcoming mixer. Every object made him feel like an intruder in a life that wasn’t his.
Then he looked up and saw his reflection thrown back at him from the floor length mirror fastened to the opposite wall. Vanessa stared back. Her round face framed by shiny black hair, lips glossed in pale pink, eyes wide with Philip’s panic.
“This isn’t possible,” he murmured hoarsely.
Jack crossed the room with Katy’s energetic stride, hair swinging over her shoulder. He leaned down, far too close, eyes alight with mischief.
“Possible or not, it’s happening. And we’ve got hours before it wears off. Wanna play?” Philip’s pulse thundered. He was in Vanessa’s body. Jack was in Katy’s. He had no idea what their real bodies were doing or where, only that they were not here. For the first time since pledging Delta, he realized he was more terrified of his best friend than of any frat brother.
Jack was practically bouncing around like a kid in a candy store, repeatedly mentioning how awesome it is to have tits.
“This is insane,” Philip muttered, running a hand through Vanessa’s long hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, brushing the back of his neck, constantly in his peripheral vision. Every little tickle made him twitch. “I feel like I’m drowning in shampoo.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. It’s fucking awesome. Look at this.” He shook his head, letting Katy’s long, dark hair fall over her shoulders, framing her face, then bit her lower lip between her teeth and winked at Philip seductively. “Tell me this doesn’t look hot.”
Philip turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of the curve of Katy’s collarbone, the tan line along her shoulder where a sports bra must’ve once sat. He gritted his teeth.
“We’re only here to grab underwear and then we get out. That’s it.” Jack made a distracted sound, which didn’t entirely sound like agreement.
He was testing everything. Squeezing Katy’s biceps and delighting in the subtle muscle definition, stretching out one long leg and flexing her calf muscles, even bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if testing how springy she was.
Philip was still focused on the reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, and the image followed, familiar and foreign all at once. He raised a hand. She raised a hand. Jack appeared beside him, sliding Katy’s body into view. She was taller, leaner, her shoulders broader than Vanessa’s.
Katy was studious and fairly quiet normally, but Jack’s grin warped her into something hungry. A femme fatale in search of her next prey.
“Dude, look at us,” Jack whispered. “We actually pulled it off. We’re fucking hot!”
Philip swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. “We shouldn’t be looking. This is… it’s too much.”
“Too much fun,” Jack corrected. He pressed closer to the mirror, tilting Katy’s head, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue just to see how it looked. He laughed in delight. “God, the way this mouth moves, it’s unreal.”
Philip tried to drag his eyes away, but curiosity betrayed him. His gaze dipped, catching sight of Vanessa’s chest in the reflection. The neckline of her shirt clung close, clearly showing the outline of her nipples. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away sharply. He was not going to lift her top and take a peek.
“You’re staring,” Jack teased, slipping behind him and resting Katy’s hands on Vanessa’s hips.
Katy’s reflection loomed over Vanessa’s smaller frame in the mirror. “What’s it like, having the body of your crush? Bet you’ve fantasized about having unfettered access to her before. Touching every inch of her. Running your palms over her perky tits. Cupping her pussy.”
Philip’s face went hot. “Shut up.”
Jack leaned closer, his voice dropping, Katy’s lips brushing dangerously near Philip’s ear. “She’s soft, isn’t she? Curvy. Everything you imagined. And she’s right here. Aching to know what your hands would feel like sliding all over her.”
Philip’s breath caught. He could feel the warmth of Jack’s presence, the whisper of Katy’s hair brushing his cheek. He tried to step away, but Vanessa’s body didn’t obey with the same steadiness as his own.
His hip bumped the desk, throwing him off balance. Jack’s hand shot out, steadying him. Grabbing his hips instead of his arm. Philip stiffened. The pressure of Katy’s palm against Vanessa’s midriff was startling. A hot reminder that this wasn’t a joke anymore.
“Jack,” Philip said, voice low with warning. But Jack only grinned, tightening his grip slightly, fingertips sliding along the hem of Vanessa’s shirt, tickling the strip of skin underneath.
“Relax. We’ve got time before the potion wears off. Why waste it panicking when we could explore?”
Philip shoved his hand away, heart hammering too fast. “We came here for one reason. Don’t fuck this up with your usual bullshit.”
Jack backed off in mock surrender, leaning against the wall and raising Katy’s hands. “Fine, fine. You want to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity by being a pussy, instead of playing with one, go ahead.”
Philip ignored him and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, coming face to face with the mother lode.
A mass of lace and cotton, bright colors and neutrals, G-strings and briefs and bras, all folded neatly in little piles. He fumbled, pulling out a pair at random, trying not to notice the little bow stitched along the waistband, or theorize about which of the girls it belonged to.
“Got it,” he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket. “We should leave and go and stash this somewhere so we can retrieve it when we’re us again.”
“Plenty of time for that. Are you seriously passing up the opportunity to find out what turns your crush on?”
Philip’s chest heaved, the bra beneath his shirt pinching tighter with the movement. Every tiny sensation was amplified in this shape. He had no idea girls had such sensitive bodies. If Vanessa's neck and shoulders were this responsive to stimuli, what about the more… delicate areas?
Jack leaned against the wall, watching his friend closely. Katy’s arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Philip avert his eyes.
“You really think you can ignore this?” Jack asked softly. “Ignore her?”
Philip didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, even as he tried to ignore it, every nerve in Vanessa’s body was alive with a tingling feeling he couldn’t shut off.
He told himself he wouldn’t look at the mirror again. That he had the underwear and all that was left to do was wait for the potion to burn off. But every time he moved, Vanessa’s body reminded him he wasn’t himself. The way her thighs brushed together when he shifted his stance. The heat trapped in the curve between her breasts. The way her nipples tightened when she saw the way Katy stared at her. The sudden, sharp contraction of pleasure between her legs.
Each detail was louder than thought. And Jack wouldn’t fucking give him space to breathe.
“You’re wound too tight,” Jack murmured, stepping closer again. Katy’s taller body loomed behind him, all lean lines and toned strength. He set Katy’s hands on Vanessa's shoulders from behind, massaging with deliberate slowness.
“Loosen up.”
Philip froze. The sensation was alien. Slender fingers pressing into the slope of Vanessa’s shoulders, kneading muscle softer than his own. His back arched without meaning to, chest pushing forward. He could feel the heat in his panties and almost smell the pheromones in the air.
“Jack-”
“Shh.”
Katy’s breath ghosted over his ear, warm and taunting. “Allow her to feel it. Her body isn’t fighting me. She likes this.”
Philip hated the way heat rippled through him at the words. The way Vanessa’s nipples pebbled instantly, turning aching and hard beneath her bra when Jack’s thumbs kept sensually running across her muscles.
He tried to step away, but Jack’s grip on her waist drew her back. Katy’s chest pressed flush against Vanessa’s back. Firm breasts molding against soft skin. Philip gasped, a small, betraying sound.
“That’s it,” Jack whispered, lips brushing the shell of Vanessa's ear. “You feel that, don’t you? How different it is?”
Philip bit his lip hard. But it didn’t stop his body from reacting. His chest ached with sensitivity, every brush of fabric against his nipples sparking hot shivers. His hips shifted against Jack’s hold, searching without meaning to. His ass pressing back, almost expecting to feel an erect cock there, relaxing when all he encountered was softness.
Jack slid one hand lower, over Vanessa’s flat stomach, fingertips grazing the waist of her denim skirt. Philip’s pulse spiked. He could feel the shape of her body in ways he’d only imagined.
“God, you’re actually shaking,” Jack teased. He pressed his palm harder, dragging upward until he cupped one of Vanessa’s breasts through her shirt. His hand molded perfectly to the curve, fingers sinking in slightly before closing over the nipples and pinching.
Philip jolted like he’d been shocked. The pressure sent heat exploding through him. So much sharper than he ever imagined. A moan slipped out, broken and needy, before he could stop it. Jack laughed low, his voice a husky echo in Katy’s mouth.
“I knew it. You’re loving this.”
Philip shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Vanessa’s breasts were soft in his own hands when Jack pulled them into place, squeezing and kneading.
The ache in his chest spread downward, a molten restlessness that coiled between his legs, where there was no longer any familiar weight. Only a slick, sensitive heat that made his thighs tense. Jack leaned closer, kissing the side of Vanessa's neck.
Katy’s lips left tingling sparks against her skin. He gasped again, tilting his head back without meaning to, giving Jack room to explore.
“You always wanted to know what she felt like, didn’t you?” Jack murmured between kisses. “Now you do. Every inch. Every little twitch. If you ever get the chance, you could make her cum in minutes.”
Philip squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to want this. But Vanessa’s body was singing beneath his skin, her curves hypersensitive to every touch, every squeeze. When Jack dragged his hand lower, cupping the swell of her ass through denim, Philip’s knees went weak. He stumbled, and they tumbled together onto the nearest bed. Vanessa’s smaller frame pinned beneath Katy’s.
Jack landed on top, grinning down, hair falling in a dark curtain around their faces. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” he said, voice husky. “I’ll do all the work and you can take notes in your head.”
Katy’s hips pressed down, grinding just enough for Philip to feel the press of her pussy against Vanessa's. The pleasure nearly made him see stars. What would it feel like if Katy actually touched her clit? Dragged her tongue over it? Sucked it between those soft lips?
Philip whimpered, his hands trapped between them, pressed against the curves of Katy’s sides. He could feel the warmth of skin through fabric. Every nerve screamed with arousal. Jack leaned down, lips hovering over his.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Philip’s heart thundered. His lips parted, and he didn’t know if he was going to say I don’t or kiss Katy. His pulse roared in his ears. He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s chest rising and falling too fast, her heartbeat thundering in her ribs like a trapped animal.
Jack hovered over him, Katy’s taller frame caging him against the mattress, their borrowed hair spilling together in a curtain that smelled faintly of fruit.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Philip rasped, but his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of arousal under the words.
Jack smirked. “I’m not joking.” He lowered Katy’s body until their breasts touched, brushing Katy’s peaked nipples against Vanessa’s rock hard ones. The friction alone made Philip gasp, heat shooting through him. It wasn’t like pressing chest-to-chest with another guy.
The give, the shape, the electric sting of nipples touching, every detail was overwhelming. He had no idea breasts were so receptive to the slightest touch. Vanessa's wasn’t even uncovered and they made him squirm.
“God,” he groaned before he could stop himself. Jack’s grin widened in satisfaction.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Every touch goes both ways. You squeeze her,” He pressed Katy’s hand down onto one of Vanessa’s breasts, forcing Philip to feel it fully, “And you are her.”
Philip arched into the contact despite himself. His hands moved up without any conscious thought. The weight of her breast in his palm, the nipple reacting instantly under his touch, each tiny spark flooded through him in a way his male body never reacted to anything but pressure on his cock.
He kneaded once, twice, and heat surged low in his stomach, between his thighs, turning his panties damp. His back bowed off the mattress, mouth falling open in a helpless sound.
Jack kissed him then. Katy’s mouth grazing Vanessa's jaw, the corner of her mouth, teasing as it moved around.
Every brush of her sweet lips left a wet, burning mark. Philip turned away, breathless, but Jack followed, biting gently at Vanessa’s neck until Philip gasped.
His thighs clenched hard. Something slick and molten was spreading there, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He could feel the absence, the soft, tender heat where his cock would usually be straining.
The pressure of denim against it only sharpened the ache. He needed Jack to touch Vanessa's pussy. He needed pressure. Jack ground down lightly and Philip bucked up helplessly, his own hands gripping Katy’s hips tight, chasing the friction he’d die without.
“Stop,” he panted, but the word broke halfway, turning into a moan. Jack chuckled low.
“Your body doesn’t want me to stop.” He kissed Vanessa again. Her lips plump, glossy, trembling beneath Katy’s teasing press. Philip’s breath hitched and his tongue flicked nervously against the edge of his teeth.
Every nerve screamed to close the distance, to taste what it felt like to kiss as a girl, to be kissed as a girl. Jack deepened the grind of their hips. Philip’s breath hitched sharply, a helpless whimper leaving his throat.
Heat surged through his belly, down his thighs, the ache between his legs swelling into a throbbing need. He arched against Katy, nails digging into her waist. There’s no way he was going to be able to say no. Jack had to make him cum.
Jack pulled back slightly, asking with twinkling eyes, “Shall we see how good Katy is at eating pussy?”
Philip knew what his answer should be, but his entire body was throbbing, yes yes yes.
Their mouths hovered a fraction apart, breaths mingling. The world narrowed to that single point of contact waiting to happen. Philip’s lips parted, ready, needy.
“Vanessa? Katy?” The voice cut through the fog like a blade, followed by the rap of knuckles on the door.
Philip’s eyes flew wide. Jack froze above him, both of them panting hard. “Vanessa, Katy!” another girl called from the hall. “We need you for the final discussions for tonight’s mixer!”
Silence. Only their ragged breaths, the hot press of bodies still locked together. Jack swore under his breath, rolling off Vanessa reluctantly.
“Just when things were about to get really good.”
Philip scrambled upright, Vanessa’s hair tangling in his face, chest heaving, nipples still hard and aching. He shoved shaky hands through the strands, trying to compose himself, though the slick heat between his thighs throbbed in open defiance.
He knew they should have kept their heads. If they let curiosity drag them off course they would blow the whole point of the night. The spell would end when it wanted and they had no idea when that would be.
Another knock. “Come on, you two! Hurry up! Megan saw you get in earlier, I know you’re in there.”
Jack smirked, tugging Katy’s tank top straight as if they hadn’t just been seconds from fucking each other into oblivion.
“Guess there’s more fun ahead. Don’t think you’re off the hook though, I’m still going to eat that pussy later and I fully expect to get repaid in kind.”
Philip sat frozen, heart still hammering, his mind spinning so fast he worried he might throw up.
With the sorority girls having already taken well known countermeasures to deal with any would be panty thieves, he thinks the chances of completing the challenge are near zero.
However, when his best friend Jack claims to have a plan involving a little magic and burrowing the bodies of his crush Vanessa and her roommate Katy, he knows he is in for a long night ahead when things don't exactly end up going to plan...
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The floor of Delta Epsilon’s house was sticky.
Beer, cheap cologne, and stale pizza had seeped into the carpet like a second skin, and Philip had the honor of scrubbing it clean while half a dozen brothers lounged on couches watching basketball highlights.
“Missed a spot,” one of them called, deliberately tilting a red Solo cup so that the last of his drink bled out onto the carpet inches from Philip’s sponge.
Philip clenched his jaw. He’d been degraded all semester, fetching fast food at three in the morning, running errands that skirted the edge of being criminal, serving as human furniture during drinking games. He told himself it would be worth it. Delta Epsilon’s parties were legendary, the kind of place girls lined up to get into. More importantly, alumni connections meant a shot at internships that led to real careers. You suffered now, you cashed in later.
Jack, naturally, thrived. He was perched on the arm of a sofa, balancing a tray of wings for two seniors, grinning like the humiliation was a party of its own.
“How’s that knee grease holding up, Phil?” he teased, eyebrows bouncing. Philip muttered something under his breath, pressing the sponge hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He’d thought pledging with his best friend would make things easier. Instead, Jack’s bottomless energy only made Philip feel like the boring one, always one step away from quitting.
The pledge master, Trent, finally called them over once the brothers had eaten their fill.
“You’ve made it further than many,” he said, addressing both Philip and Jack while tapping the ash off his cigar. “Scrubbing toilets, babysitting drunk brothers, taking whatever punishment we throw at you, you did it all without complaint. But Delta doesn’t hand out membership for free. There’s one last hurdle.”
Jack’s eyes lit up, while Philip felt his stomach knot. Trent leaned forward. “You’ve got until Saturday morning to bring us proof that you’re worthy of being Delta Epsilons. And by proof, I mean the underwear of one of the Theta sisters across the street.”
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. Someone whistled. Another shouted, “Better hope they’re lace!”
Philip’s face burned hot. He’d expected something brutal. A dangerous stunt, or maybe even a tattoo or branding, not…this. Not something that felt like the set-up to a police record for being a creep.
Jack, of course, grinned like he’d just been handed a golden ticket. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Piece of felony,” Philip muttered.
Trent ignored the comment. “You get caught, that’s your problem. Theta girls are sick of pranks. They’ll eat you alive if they catch you sneaking around. Fail, and you’ll have to re-pledge next semester, if we even let you back in. Succeed, and you’ll be full brothers by sunrise.”
He flicked his cigar ash into an empty beer can, and the matter was closed. Philip and Jack were dismissed like servants, slipping out into the cool night air. The frat house behind them thumped with bass as the next round of drinking games began.
Across the street, the Theta house glowed with warm yellow light, its windows alive with the silhouettes of girls laughing, moving and living in a world that felt forbidden.
Philip shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “This is insane. They want us to break into a sorority house. Forget expulsion, that’s actual jail time if we’re caught and reported.”
Jack slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Come on, man. It’s tradition. Everybody who ever wore Delta letters has done something crazy like this. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Philip shrugged him off. “You mean you’ll figure it out. And drag me with you.”
Jack’s grin widened. “Exactly. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” That phrase, I’ve got a plan, was the single most dangerous thing Jack could say. Philip knew better, but as he stared up at the Theta house, he couldn’t shake the truth. They’d come too far to back out now.
Philip assumed Jack’s “plan” would be something stupid but doable. Like sneaking into the Theta laundry room, bribing a janitor, or maybe finessing a stolen bra from lost-and-found.
What he didn’t expect, as their deadline creeped ever closer, was Jack pulling a battered paperback out of his backpack like he’d just smuggled the Necronomicon out of the library and declaring their troubles were about to be a thing of the past.
“What is that?” Philip asked, eyeing the faded title embossed with moons and symbols.
“Wiccan Rites and Rituals of the Body,” Jack said with a grin so wide it could split his face. “This baby is going to get us in.”
Philip stared. “That’s not a plan you idiot. That’s…props from a bad horror movie.”
“Correction,” Jack said, flipping through pages until he landed on one marked with a sticky note. “It’s a possession spell. All we need is something personal from the Thetas. Hair is perfect. One strand, and we’re golden.”
Philip blinked. “Hair. You want us to pluck a strand off someone’s head, mix it into some potion, and what? Astral-project into their underwear drawer?”
Jack leaned forward, whispering even though there was nobody else around. “Exactly. But into them, not their underwear drawer.”
For a moment, Philip couldn’t even find words. His friend was dead serious. His blue eyes glittered with the manic light of a man who believed in his own insanity. Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jack, you need help.”
“Correction again. We need help, and this is it. Think about it. We don’t sneak around, we don’t break and enter, we just become them. Walk right in the front door. Grab what we need and walk back out again. Easy as pie.”
Philip wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Jack this was why pledges got expelled, why college urban legends started with two idiots reading a so-called spell book. But something about Jack’s certainty unsettled him.
“How do you even plan to get the hair?” Philip asked, deciding to humor him.
Jack smirked. “You’re partnered with Vanessa in chem lab. I’m with her roommate, Katy. Both of them happen to belong to the Theta Sorority. Boom. Easy.”
Philip’s stomach lurched. Vanessa, the Vanessa, the girl he’d spent the better part of a semester trying not to stare at. She was sharp, funny, gorgeous, and so out of his league it hurt. The idea of stealing a strand of her hair wasn’t just impossible, it was mortifying.
“Jack, if I even look at her hair the wrong way she’ll know. She’ll tell everyone. I’ll be branded as the campus creep for the rest of my life.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Relax. I’ll take care of mine. You just…fumble your way through like usual. She likes you, right? I’m sure she’s called you sweet before. She won’t even notice.”
Lab that afternoon was a fluorescent blur of glassware and nerves. Bunsen burners hissed, and the sharp scent of acetone hung in the air. Vanessa tied her glossy black hair into a messy bun as she leaned over the counter, the soft hum she made under her breath cutting through the low chatter of other pairs.
Philip adjusted the clamp on their stand and tried to steady his hands, pretending to check the thermometer while sneaking a glance at her profile. The long lashes, the soft curve of her cheek when she smiled. He’d barely worked up the nerve to say something to her, when the door swung open and Ryan Hale strolled in.
Ryan wasn’t a student in their class, he was a teaching assistant who was busy with his Masters. The kind of nerd who looked more like he belonged in a movie poster than a chemistry lab. The Henry Cavill of the campus. Tall, effortlessly confident, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing forearms that probably did not belong to someone who spent his evenings doing titration reports.
“Need a hand, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth enough to make the words sound like an inside joke.
Vanessa’s whole face lit up. “Ryan! You’re still hanging around the underclassmen? I thought you were too cool for basic chem.”
“Guess I missed the fun crowd.” He winked, stepping close enough that Philip caught the faint smell of his cologne. Something woodsy and smug. Philip’s stomach twisted. He busied himself pretending to check their notes, but every word between Vanessa and Ryan pulled his focus like a hook through his ribs.
“Still showing off that perfect technique, huh?” Ryan teased, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Could use someone like you to calibrate my disastrous love life.”
Vanessa laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I told you last time, you need better lab partners, not better lines.”
“Maybe I just need one who actually likes me,” he said, voice dipping into something low and knowing. “You still wearing that purple dress that makes everyone else forget the experiment?”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Keep talking, and you’ll set the sprinklers off again.”
Ryan chuckled, backing away with a little salute. “Worth it.”
Philip’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He shifted his beaker just to make noise. “Vanessa, uh, the solution’s ready,” he muttered.
She turned back, still smiling, a faint pink on her cheeks. “Right, sorry, I got distracted.” The way she said it made Philip want to vanish into the nearest fume hood.
Ryan gave him a nod that felt more like dismissal. “Good work, man. Don’t let her boss you around too much.”
Philip forced a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
When Ryan finally moved on to check another table, the tension in Philip’s shoulders eased only slightly. Vanessa was still smiling to herself, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “He’s such a dork,” she said fondly.
“Yeah,” Philip replied, voice flat. “A real geek.”
She glanced at him, oblivious. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Fine,” he lied. His pulse thundered. He hated how obvious it felt. The jealousy, the ridiculous possessiveness over a girl who barely saw him as more than a partner for lab reports.
Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was all charm. Katy, tall, athletic, focused on the work at hand with cool intensity, rolled her eyes at his constant jokes, but she didn’t seem to actively hate him. Jack’s hands moved casually, as if the experiment was background noise to whatever ridiculous story he was spinning.
Philip’s heart pounded. He couldn’t do it. Not to Vanessa. The thought of deliberately stealing a piece of her felt worse than any frat punishment. But then her bun slipped, and a single strand drifted onto the lab bench.
Philip froze and stared at it like it was radioactive. One perfect strand, right there. All he had to do was pick it up without her noticing. His hand twitched. Sweat beaded at his hairline. Vanessa reached for the pipette, and he panicked. He grabbed the strand too quickly, shoving it into his pocket like a thief.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “You good?” she asked.
Philip’s laugh came out strangled. “Yeah. Totally. Fine. Just, science, you know?”
She gave him a strange look, then turned back to the experiment. Across the room, Jack caught his eye and subtly flashed a triumphant thumbs-up. He mouthed, Got it. Philip wanted to throw up.
After class, they met outside, ducking into a quiet corner near the library. Jack pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and wiggled it proudly. Katy’s strand of hair gleaming inside. Philip shoved his hands deep into his hoodie, where Vanessa’s strand burned against his palm like contraband.
“This is insane,” he muttered. “If she’d caught me, I’d have been ruined.”
Jack was practically buzzing. “But she didn’t. We’ve got everything. Today, we drink the potion. Tomorrow, we’re legends.”
Philip stared at him, feeling his chest tighten. It wasn’t the frat house that scared him anymore. It was Jack’s unwavering certainty, the gleam in his eye like he’d already crossed a line Philip couldn’t even see.
Back in their room, Jack had cleared his desk, pushing aside textbooks and laundry to make space for the battered paperback and a mess of supplies that looked like they’d been stolen from a Spirit Halloween clearance bin. Mason jars, candles, a bag of salt and something that Philip really, really hoped was red food coloring.
Philip sat on the bed, arms crossed, trying not to look at the plastic bag in his pocket. Inside was Vanessa’s hair, a single dark strand that felt heavier than lead.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm, and we’ll get kicked out before we even fail the pledge.”
Jack was hunched over the desk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he measured powder into a chipped coffee mug.
“Correction. You’re going to stop being so negative, because we’re going to waltz into Theta’s house like we own it and take our time finding the perfect proof. Something small, sexy and lacy. Then we hand it to Trent and we’re done. Easiest initiation ever and we’re lifelong members of the Delta Epsilon brotherhood.”
Philip shook his head. “You actually believe all the crap coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. Because I know this is going to work.” Jack’s grin was feral. He held up his mug, fizzing with something dark and faintly purple. “And very soon, you’re going to have to swallow all your pessimistic, dismissive words and admit that I’m the GOAT.” Without waiting for a response, he dropped Katy’s wavy strand of hair into the concoction.
Philip looked at his own brew, waiting for him on the desk. It reeked faintly of vinegar and something metallic. “This looks like cough syrup that went bad.”
Jack grabbed the paperback, muttering words under his breath. Latin? Gibberish? Philip couldn’t tell. The candlelight threw shadows across Jack’s face, making him look more unhinged than usual.
“Jack,” Philip said slowly, “You get that if this doesn’t work, we may be drinking poison?”
“Trust me,” Jack said, gesturing meaningfully at Philip’s mug. Those two words had been the prelude to every disaster Philip had lived through with him. The broken window in high school. The near arrest in freshman year. And now this.
Philip sighed, pulled Vanessa’s hair from his pocket, and dropped it into the liquid. It curled and fizzed, dissolving into the mixture like it had never been.
“Bottoms up,” Jack said cheerfully, chugging the contents in one long pull.
Philip raised his mug. The liquid shimmered oddly, like heat ripples above asphalt. He pinched his nose and tossed it back. It burned. Like swallowing melted pennies chased with bleach. His stomach roiled instantly, bile rising up.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked, slamming the cup down. “That’s not magic, that’s battery acid.”
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing hard, but his grin didn’t falter. “Wait for it.”
Philip blinked and the dorm room folded in on itself. Candlelight bent sideways and the next breath tasted like coffee and paper. He was not in their room anymore. He was sitting at a table under tall windows, late afternoon light spilling amber over open textbooks and half empty cups.
The scent was library quiet and caffeine. Hair slid across his cheek. Definitely not his. It was long and silky. His hands were smaller, nails pink, wrists delicate. The weight on his chest tugged when he breathed. He was looking through Vanessa’s eyes.
Across from him, Katy sat in a chair with a pen in her hand and her mouth parted in a quiet, startled sound that belonged to Jack. “Holy shit,” Jack whispered in Katy’s voice.
Philip’s pulse spiked. “How the hell did I get here?” he asked under his breath, before the realization hit him fully. Jack’s crazy plan worked. He glanced down, eyes bugging at the soft cleavage he encountered. He was on the verge of completely freaking out. “Keep it together,” he muttered to himself. The sound of Vanessa's voice only sent him spiraling further into chaos.
Jack’s grin curled slow and wicked as he looked down at himself and then around them. He started to pull the top of Katy’s tank forward so he could peek at her breasts, before Philip shot him a look that could choke a man at twenty paces.
“Don’t,” Philip hissed. “Katy would never do something like that in public!”
Jack laughed, high and breathy in Katy’s voice. “You’re telling me you’re not even curious? Come on, man. We’re in. This is unreal. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to them when we touch them?”
Philip swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from spiraling into sensory overload.
“This…this isn’t possible,” he whispered. But the evidence pressed in from every side. The scent of citrus shampoo in his hair, the tug of bra straps against his shoulders, the fullness in his chest when he inhaled. The emptiness where his cock should be.
Philip’s eyes darted anxiously around the library cafe. “We need to get out of here before someone notices something off,” Philip said. “People pick up on the smallest wrong note.” He was terrified that someone would realize the girls were possessed.
He spent way too much time staring at Vanessa, but that didn’t mean he could copy her actions. If anyone watched them closely, they’d know immediately that there were impostors inhabiting Vanessa and Katy.
“We should go back to their room and fool around,” Jack suggested immediately, hands on Katy’s breasts, squeezing idly.
“Jesus, Jack, stop that! They’re in public. We’re in public…”
This was such a mind-fuck. Clearly they were literally possessing Vanessa and Katy’s bodies. Where was Vanessa's consciousness now? Asleep? Aware? He didn’t feel like someone was watching him, so hopefully she had no idea what he was doing. And where were his and Jack’s bodies? Still in their dorm room? Fuck. If he’d known there was any chance of this working, he’d never have gone through with it.
“Come on bestie, let’s go home,” Jack cooed at him. “I’m just dying to get out of these pesky clothes.”
Jack clearly had zero second thoughts about any of this. Then again, Jack had never had a second thought in his life. He rarely had first ones. Philip decided that only made him a bigger idiot for always following his friend’s crazy plans.
Philip took a deep breath, gathered Vanessa’s things and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder before getting up on shaky legs. The plan was to reach Theta house without interacting with anyone who knew the girls.
Vanessa was outgoing and popular, so he kept his eyes trained on the ground to avoid any accidental socializing.
He was doing his best to focus on the mission, but every move betrayed him. Vanessa’s curves shifted differently from his own. Her hips swayed without permission when he walked. The tug of the denim skirt around her thighs was tighter than he was used to, the waistband sitting higher, the soft curtain of hair continuously falling into his eyes. And he kept fighting the urge to run his fingertips over her lustrous, satiny skin.
Philip thanked his lucky stars that it was late afternoon sliding toward evening and most of the Theta girls were either at dinner, in class, or busy with the mixer prep.
The second piece of good luck was the fact that the first year members of the sorority had the downstairs bedrooms and Katy and Vanessa had their names picked out in glittery wooden letters on their door. Which saved him and Jack from being caught wandering aimlessly into someone else’s room and rifling through their underwear.
“Come on,” he hissed at Jack, nearly having heart failure when he heard Vanessa’s sweet, bubbly voice, before remembering it came from his own mouth.
As soon as they entered the room, Philip froze like a deer in headlights.
The room smelled like them. A heady mix of perfume, make-up and detergent. Several photos of Vanessa and Katy were pinned to the notice board. Keys with a little Theta charm lay on a desk. Lip gloss on each bedside table. A folded flyer about the upcoming mixer. Every object made him feel like an intruder in a life that wasn’t his.
Then he looked up and saw his reflection thrown back at him from the floor length mirror fastened to the opposite wall. Vanessa stared back. Her round face framed by shiny black hair, lips glossed in pale pink, eyes wide with Philip’s panic.
“This isn’t possible,” he murmured hoarsely.
Jack crossed the room with Katy’s energetic stride, hair swinging over her shoulder. He leaned down, far too close, eyes alight with mischief.
“Possible or not, it’s happening. And we’ve got hours before it wears off. Wanna play?” Philip’s pulse thundered. He was in Vanessa’s body. Jack was in Katy’s. He had no idea what their real bodies were doing or where, only that they were not here. For the first time since pledging Delta, he realized he was more terrified of his best friend than of any frat brother.
Jack was practically bouncing around like a kid in a candy store, repeatedly mentioning how awesome it is to have tits.
“This is insane,” Philip muttered, running a hand through Vanessa’s long hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, brushing the back of his neck, constantly in his peripheral vision. Every little tickle made him twitch. “I feel like I’m drowning in shampoo.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah. It’s fucking awesome. Look at this.” He shook his head, letting Katy’s long, dark hair fall over her shoulders, framing her face, then bit her lower lip between her teeth and winked at Philip seductively. “Tell me this doesn’t look hot.”
Philip turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of the curve of Katy’s collarbone, the tan line along her shoulder where a sports bra must’ve once sat. He gritted his teeth.
“We’re only here to grab underwear and then we get out. That’s it.” Jack made a distracted sound, which didn’t entirely sound like agreement.
He was testing everything. Squeezing Katy’s biceps and delighting in the subtle muscle definition, stretching out one long leg and flexing her calf muscles, even bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if testing how springy she was.
Philip was still focused on the reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, and the image followed, familiar and foreign all at once. He raised a hand. She raised a hand. Jack appeared beside him, sliding Katy’s body into view. She was taller, leaner, her shoulders broader than Vanessa’s.
Katy was studious and fairly quiet normally, but Jack’s grin warped her into something hungry. A femme fatale in search of her next prey.
“Dude, look at us,” Jack whispered. “We actually pulled it off. We’re fucking hot!”
Philip swallowed, heat crawling up his neck. “We shouldn’t be looking. This is… it’s too much.”
“Too much fun,” Jack corrected. He pressed closer to the mirror, tilting Katy’s head, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue just to see how it looked. He laughed in delight. “God, the way this mouth moves, it’s unreal.”
Philip tried to drag his eyes away, but curiosity betrayed him. His gaze dipped, catching sight of Vanessa’s chest in the reflection. The neckline of her shirt clung close, clearly showing the outline of her nipples. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away sharply. He was not going to lift her top and take a peek.
“You’re staring,” Jack teased, slipping behind him and resting Katy’s hands on Vanessa’s hips.
Katy’s reflection loomed over Vanessa’s smaller frame in the mirror. “What’s it like, having the body of your crush? Bet you’ve fantasized about having unfettered access to her before. Touching every inch of her. Running your palms over her perky tits. Cupping her pussy.”
Philip’s face went hot. “Shut up.”
Jack leaned closer, his voice dropping, Katy’s lips brushing dangerously near Philip’s ear. “She’s soft, isn’t she? Curvy. Everything you imagined. And she’s right here. Aching to know what your hands would feel like sliding all over her.”
Philip’s breath caught. He could feel the warmth of Jack’s presence, the whisper of Katy’s hair brushing his cheek. He tried to step away, but Vanessa’s body didn’t obey with the same steadiness as his own.
His hip bumped the desk, throwing him off balance. Jack’s hand shot out, steadying him. Grabbing his hips instead of his arm. Philip stiffened. The pressure of Katy’s palm against Vanessa’s midriff was startling. A hot reminder that this wasn’t a joke anymore.
“Jack,” Philip said, voice low with warning. But Jack only grinned, tightening his grip slightly, fingertips sliding along the hem of Vanessa’s shirt, tickling the strip of skin underneath.
“Relax. We’ve got time before the potion wears off. Why waste it panicking when we could explore?”
Philip shoved his hand away, heart hammering too fast. “We came here for one reason. Don’t fuck this up with your usual bullshit.”
Jack backed off in mock surrender, leaning against the wall and raising Katy’s hands. “Fine, fine. You want to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity by being a pussy, instead of playing with one, go ahead.”
Philip ignored him and pulled open one of the dresser drawers, coming face to face with the mother lode.
A mass of lace and cotton, bright colors and neutrals, G-strings and briefs and bras, all folded neatly in little piles. He fumbled, pulling out a pair at random, trying not to notice the little bow stitched along the waistband, or theorize about which of the girls it belonged to.
“Got it,” he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket. “We should leave and go and stash this somewhere so we can retrieve it when we’re us again.”
“Plenty of time for that. Are you seriously passing up the opportunity to find out what turns your crush on?”
Philip’s chest heaved, the bra beneath his shirt pinching tighter with the movement. Every tiny sensation was amplified in this shape. He had no idea girls had such sensitive bodies. If Vanessa's neck and shoulders were this responsive to stimuli, what about the more… delicate areas?
Jack leaned against the wall, watching his friend closely. Katy’s arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Philip avert his eyes.
“You really think you can ignore this?” Jack asked softly. “Ignore her?”
Philip didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, even as he tried to ignore it, every nerve in Vanessa’s body was alive with a tingling feeling he couldn’t shut off.
He told himself he wouldn’t look at the mirror again. That he had the underwear and all that was left to do was wait for the potion to burn off. But every time he moved, Vanessa’s body reminded him he wasn’t himself. The way her thighs brushed together when he shifted his stance. The heat trapped in the curve between her breasts. The way her nipples tightened when she saw the way Katy stared at her. The sudden, sharp contraction of pleasure between her legs.
Each detail was louder than thought. And Jack wouldn’t fucking give him space to breathe.
“You’re wound too tight,” Jack murmured, stepping closer again. Katy’s taller body loomed behind him, all lean lines and toned strength. He set Katy’s hands on Vanessa's shoulders from behind, massaging with deliberate slowness.
“Loosen up.”
Philip froze. The sensation was alien. Slender fingers pressing into the slope of Vanessa’s shoulders, kneading muscle softer than his own. His back arched without meaning to, chest pushing forward. He could feel the heat in his panties and almost smell the pheromones in the air.
“Jack-”
“Shh.”
Katy’s breath ghosted over his ear, warm and taunting. “Allow her to feel it. Her body isn’t fighting me. She likes this.”
Philip hated the way heat rippled through him at the words. The way Vanessa’s nipples pebbled instantly, turning aching and hard beneath her bra when Jack’s thumbs kept sensually running across her muscles.
He tried to step away, but Jack’s grip on her waist drew her back. Katy’s chest pressed flush against Vanessa’s back. Firm breasts molding against soft skin. Philip gasped, a small, betraying sound.
“That’s it,” Jack whispered, lips brushing the shell of Vanessa's ear. “You feel that, don’t you? How different it is?”
Philip bit his lip hard. But it didn’t stop his body from reacting. His chest ached with sensitivity, every brush of fabric against his nipples sparking hot shivers. His hips shifted against Jack’s hold, searching without meaning to. His ass pressing back, almost expecting to feel an erect cock there, relaxing when all he encountered was softness.
Jack slid one hand lower, over Vanessa’s flat stomach, fingertips grazing the waist of her denim skirt. Philip’s pulse spiked. He could feel the shape of her body in ways he’d only imagined.
“God, you’re actually shaking,” Jack teased. He pressed his palm harder, dragging upward until he cupped one of Vanessa’s breasts through her shirt. His hand molded perfectly to the curve, fingers sinking in slightly before closing over the nipples and pinching.
Philip jolted like he’d been shocked. The pressure sent heat exploding through him. So much sharper than he ever imagined. A moan slipped out, broken and needy, before he could stop it. Jack laughed low, his voice a husky echo in Katy’s mouth.
“I knew it. You’re loving this.”
Philip shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Vanessa’s breasts were soft in his own hands when Jack pulled them into place, squeezing and kneading.
The ache in his chest spread downward, a molten restlessness that coiled between his legs, where there was no longer any familiar weight. Only a slick, sensitive heat that made his thighs tense. Jack leaned closer, kissing the side of Vanessa's neck.
Katy’s lips left tingling sparks against her skin. He gasped again, tilting his head back without meaning to, giving Jack room to explore.
“You always wanted to know what she felt like, didn’t you?” Jack murmured between kisses. “Now you do. Every inch. Every little twitch. If you ever get the chance, you could make her cum in minutes.”
Philip squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to want this. But Vanessa’s body was singing beneath his skin, her curves hypersensitive to every touch, every squeeze. When Jack dragged his hand lower, cupping the swell of her ass through denim, Philip’s knees went weak. He stumbled, and they tumbled together onto the nearest bed. Vanessa’s smaller frame pinned beneath Katy’s.
Jack landed on top, grinning down, hair falling in a dark curtain around their faces. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” he said, voice husky. “I’ll do all the work and you can take notes in your head.”
Katy’s hips pressed down, grinding just enough for Philip to feel the press of her pussy against Vanessa's. The pleasure nearly made him see stars. What would it feel like if Katy actually touched her clit? Dragged her tongue over it? Sucked it between those soft lips?
Philip whimpered, his hands trapped between them, pressed against the curves of Katy’s sides. He could feel the warmth of skin through fabric. Every nerve screamed with arousal. Jack leaned down, lips hovering over his.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Philip’s heart thundered. His lips parted, and he didn’t know if he was going to say I don’t or kiss Katy. His pulse roared in his ears. He could feel the weight of Vanessa’s chest rising and falling too fast, her heartbeat thundering in her ribs like a trapped animal.
Jack hovered over him, Katy’s taller frame caging him against the mattress, their borrowed hair spilling together in a curtain that smelled faintly of fruit.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Philip rasped, but his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of arousal under the words.
Jack smirked. “I’m not joking.” He lowered Katy’s body until their breasts touched, brushing Katy’s peaked nipples against Vanessa’s rock hard ones. The friction alone made Philip gasp, heat shooting through him. It wasn’t like pressing chest-to-chest with another guy.
The give, the shape, the electric sting of nipples touching, every detail was overwhelming. He had no idea breasts were so receptive to the slightest touch. Vanessa's wasn’t even uncovered and they made him squirm.
“God,” he groaned before he could stop himself. Jack’s grin widened in satisfaction.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Every touch goes both ways. You squeeze her,” He pressed Katy’s hand down onto one of Vanessa’s breasts, forcing Philip to feel it fully, “And you are her.”
Philip arched into the contact despite himself. His hands moved up without any conscious thought. The weight of her breast in his palm, the nipple reacting instantly under his touch, each tiny spark flooded through him in a way his male body never reacted to anything but pressure on his cock.
He kneaded once, twice, and heat surged low in his stomach, between his thighs, turning his panties damp. His back bowed off the mattress, mouth falling open in a helpless sound.
Jack kissed him then. Katy’s mouth grazing Vanessa's jaw, the corner of her mouth, teasing as it moved around.
Every brush of her sweet lips left a wet, burning mark. Philip turned away, breathless, but Jack followed, biting gently at Vanessa’s neck until Philip gasped.
His thighs clenched hard. Something slick and molten was spreading there, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He could feel the absence, the soft, tender heat where his cock would usually be straining.
The pressure of denim against it only sharpened the ache. He needed Jack to touch Vanessa's pussy. He needed pressure. Jack ground down lightly and Philip bucked up helplessly, his own hands gripping Katy’s hips tight, chasing the friction he’d die without.
“Stop,” he panted, but the word broke halfway, turning into a moan. Jack chuckled low.
“Your body doesn’t want me to stop.” He kissed Vanessa again. Her lips plump, glossy, trembling beneath Katy’s teasing press. Philip’s breath hitched and his tongue flicked nervously against the edge of his teeth.
Every nerve screamed to close the distance, to taste what it felt like to kiss as a girl, to be kissed as a girl. Jack deepened the grind of their hips. Philip’s breath hitched sharply, a helpless whimper leaving his throat.
Heat surged through his belly, down his thighs, the ache between his legs swelling into a throbbing need. He arched against Katy, nails digging into her waist. There’s no way he was going to be able to say no. Jack had to make him cum.
Jack pulled back slightly, asking with twinkling eyes, “Shall we see how good Katy is at eating pussy?”
Philip knew what his answer should be, but his entire body was throbbing, yes yes yes.
Their mouths hovered a fraction apart, breaths mingling. The world narrowed to that single point of contact waiting to happen. Philip’s lips parted, ready, needy.
“Vanessa? Katy?” The voice cut through the fog like a blade, followed by the rap of knuckles on the door.
Philip’s eyes flew wide. Jack froze above him, both of them panting hard. “Vanessa, Katy!” another girl called from the hall. “We need you for the final discussions for tonight’s mixer!”
Silence. Only their ragged breaths, the hot press of bodies still locked together. Jack swore under his breath, rolling off Vanessa reluctantly.
“Just when things were about to get really good.”
Philip scrambled upright, Vanessa’s hair tangling in his face, chest heaving, nipples still hard and aching. He shoved shaky hands through the strands, trying to compose himself, though the slick heat between his thighs throbbed in open defiance.
He knew they should have kept their heads. If they let curiosity drag them off course they would blow the whole point of the night. The spell would end when it wanted and they had no idea when that would be.
Another knock. “Come on, you two! Hurry up! Megan saw you get in earlier, I know you’re in there.”
Jack smirked, tugging Katy’s tank top straight as if they hadn’t just been seconds from fucking each other into oblivion.
“Guess there’s more fun ahead. Don’t think you’re off the hook though, I’m still going to eat that pussy later and I fully expect to get repaid in kind.”
Philip sat frozen, heart still hammering, his mind spinning so fast he worried he might throw up.
These stories tells you about Peter Parker and his lovely redheaded big-tittied wife, Mary-Jane Waston-Parker with her transformations.
(PETER PARKER, in his classic red-and-blue Spider-Man suit, though the mask is off and pushed back like a hood, sits on a comfortable couch next to his wife, MARY JANE WATSON-PARKER. She’s stunning, with a cascade of fiery red hair and a confident, loving smile. They’re both turned slightly, as if addressing a camera. A soft, romantic light glows around them.)
PETER: (Clears his throat, a little nervous) So, uh… hey. Hi. If you’re watching this, you probably know the deal. Radioactive spider, great power, great responsibility, all that. The whole… thing.
MARY JANE: (Laughs, a warm, rich sound. She playfully elbows him.) The whole ‘thing’? Tiger, you saved the city, like, a dozen times last week. You can say it. You’re Spider-Man. The Amazing Spider-Man.
PETER: (Blushes slightly, smiling at her) Right. That. And this… this is my wife, Mary Jane. The most amazing woman in any universe, multiverse, or frankly, any conceivable dimension. Geez, I'm just getting tired of all the multiverse now.
MARY JANE: (She leans into him, her head on his shoulder) Flatterer. But he’s not wrong. We’ve been through it all, haven’t we, Pete? That dorky, nervous kid from Queens who tripped over his own feet asking me out…
PETER: (Groans good-naturedly) Do we have to bring that up?
MARY JANE: Absolutely. And our first kiss… up on that web-line, with the city lights sparkling below us. I knew you were my Spider then. I’ve known you were Spider-Man since we were teenagers, and I’ve loved every single crazy, web-slinging, villain-punching minute of it.
PETER: (He looks at her, his expression full of adoration) And we got married. For real. No devil deals, no retcons, no editors from on high deciding we’d be better off miserable and apart. Just… us.
MARY JANE: (Her expression turns wry, addressing the ‘camera’ directly) You hear that, certain comic book writers? We’re happy. We’re together. We’re a team. And we have a life that’s… well, let’s just say it’s never, ever boring.
PETER: Understatement of the century, MJ. Because while my life is pretty consistently weird, yours… yours has taken some truly unexpected turns.
MARY JANE: (A mischievous glint appears in her emerald eyes) Oh, you have no idea. Or, well, I guess you’re about to. We thought we’d share some stories. The kind of stories they’d never let us tell in the funny pages these days. The good stuff.
PETER: (Rubs the back of his neck, a familiar gesture) Right. The… ahem… transformative experiences.
MARY JANE: (She grins, a brilliantly wicked smile) That’s one way to put it. Remember that time, a few years back, when that weird black goo from space didn’t latch onto you, Tiger? It decided it liked my fashion sense better, including improving everything within me.
PETER: How could I forget? I came home and instead of my beautiful wife, there was… a towering, powerful, incredibly voluptuous creature of pure alien symbiote. White spider emblem and everything. You called yourself… Venom or Venomess.
MARY JANE: (Her voice drops to a playful, sultry growl) We… are Venom. And we had… needs. Very specific, very physical needs. And let’s just say my strong, sticky husband was more than equipped to handle them. All those extra tendrils came in very handy.
PETER: (His face is now completely red. He fans himself with his hand.) Wow. Okay. Yeah. That’s… that’s a story. Then there was the summer you and I went to Central Park and found that weird geode that fell from the sky…
MARY JANE: Oh, the Omnitrix! Yeah, instead of a kid named Ben Tennyson, I received it instead. One touch and suddenly I had access to many alien forms. Pyronite was great for roasting marshmallows, Tetramand was basically She-Hulk but an alien with four arms and four eyes… but my personal favorite is Galvanic Mechamorph because it would allow us to-
PETER: (Sputtering) MJ! The kids might—
MARY JANE: They’re not listening! Relax, tiger. Then there was the mishap at that gala at the Natural History Museum. I fell right into the exhibit…
PETER: The Clayface exhibit! Yes, I remember. Plus, Bruce Wayne and Reed Richards help you recover yourself from Joker. At that time, it didn't work right away. By the time I takes you home, you’re starts to become a shapeshifting mound of living clay. And you know what? You were still the most beautiful woman in the room. Even if you're a blob clay monster. That was… a unique experience.
MARY JANE: (Winking) You didn’t complain. Not once. And let’s not forget your own upgrade, Mr. Kamen Rider. When that ancient belt fused with your web-shooters…
PETER: (Strikes a mock-heroic pose) “Henshin!” Yeah, the armored suit was cool, I’ll admit. But it was nothing compared to you bursting through our bedroom wall as Cutey Honey, ready for… ahem… ‘action’.
MARY JANE: “Honey Flash!” It was all in the name of justice. And very, very thorough lovemaking.
(They both laugh, lost in the memory for a moment. Peter looks at MJ with utter love.)
PETER: Through it all… symbiote, aliens, clay, magical girl transformations, and many things… you’ve always been you, MJ. My Mary Jane. And I wouldn’t change a single, bizarre, incredible second of it.
MARY JANE: Me neither, Tiger. Me neither. Now, how about we tell our friends here about the time I—
(Suddenly, a door bursts open off-screen. A young girl, MAYDAY PARKER, about 8 years old, runs in, followed by her little brother, BENJY, who’s about 5.)
MAYDAY: Mom! Dad! Uncle Johnny is on fire in the backyard again!
BENJY: (Holding a action figure) He says it’s ‘flame on’ but it’s just the barbecue! It’s boring!
(Peter and MJ look at each other and sigh in perfect, happy unison.)
PETER: (To the ‘camera’, shrugging apologetically) Duty—and family—calls. Don’t worry, True Believers… there are plenty more stories where those came from.
MARY JANE: (Blows a kiss) And they’re all much, much better than ‘One More Day’. Promise!
(They get up from the couch, Peter swooping Benjy into his arms while MJ puts an arm around Mayday, and they walk out of the frame together, a perfect, loving, chaotic family.)
[STORY TITLE CARD APPEARS:]
PETER PARKER THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN & MARY-JANE WITH MANY TRANSFORMATIONS STORIES
[UPCOMING ATTRACTIONS LIST:]
* Peter Parker and Mary-Jane - The Amazing SPIDER-MAN & Venomess What if Mary-Jane bonds and has the symbiote at first instead Peter Parker.
* Spider-Man & MJ-10 What if Mary-Jane wields and have the Omnitrix instead of Ben Tennyson
* Spider-Man & ClayMJ MJ becomes a shapeshifting clay creature, and Peter proves his love is more than skin deep.
(PETER PARKER, in his classic red-and-blue Spider-Man suit, though the mask is off and pushed back like a hood, sits on a comfortable couch next to his wife, MARY JANE WATSON-PARKER. She’s stunning, with a cascade of fiery red hair and a confident, loving smile. They’re both turned slightly, as if addressing a camera. A soft, romantic light glows around them.)
PETER: (Clears his throat, a little nervous) So, uh… hey. Hi. If you’re watching this, you probably know the deal. Radioactive spider, great power, great responsibility, all that. The whole… thing.
MARY JANE: (Laughs, a warm, rich sound. She playfully elbows him.) The whole ‘thing’? Tiger, you saved the city, like, a dozen times last week. You can say it. You’re Spider-Man. The Amazing Spider-Man.
PETER: (Blushes slightly, smiling at her) Right. That. And this… this is my wife, Mary Jane. The most amazing woman in any universe, multiverse, or frankly, any conceivable dimension. Geez, I'm just getting tired of all the multiverse now.
MARY JANE: (She leans into him, her head on his shoulder) Flatterer. But he’s not wrong. We’ve been through it all, haven’t we, Pete? That dorky, nervous kid from Queens who tripped over his own feet asking me out…
PETER: (Groans good-naturedly) Do we have to bring that up?
MARY JANE: Absolutely. And our first kiss… up on that web-line, with the city lights sparkling below us. I knew you were my Spider then. I’ve known you were Spider-Man since we were teenagers, and I’ve loved every single crazy, web-slinging, villain-punching minute of it.
PETER: (He looks at her, his expression full of adoration) And we got married. For real. No devil deals, no retcons, no editors from on high deciding we’d be better off miserable and apart. Just… us.
MARY JANE: (Her expression turns wry, addressing the ‘camera’ directly) You hear that, certain comic book writers? We’re happy. We’re together. We’re a team. And we have a life that’s… well, let’s just say it’s never, ever boring.
PETER: Understatement of the century, MJ. Because while my life is pretty consistently weird, yours… yours has taken some truly unexpected turns.
MARY JANE: (A mischievous glint appears in her emerald eyes) Oh, you have no idea. Or, well, I guess you’re about to. We thought we’d share some stories. The kind of stories they’d never let us tell in the funny pages these days. The good stuff.
PETER: (Rubs the back of his neck, a familiar gesture) Right. The… ahem… transformative experiences.
MARY JANE: (She grins, a brilliantly wicked smile) That’s one way to put it. Remember that time, a few years back, when that weird black goo from space didn’t latch onto you, Tiger? It decided it liked my fashion sense better, including improving everything within me.
PETER: How could I forget? I came home and instead of my beautiful wife, there was… a towering, powerful, incredibly voluptuous creature of pure alien symbiote. White spider emblem and everything. You called yourself… Venom or Venomess.
MARY JANE: (Her voice drops to a playful, sultry growl) We… are Venom. And we had… needs. Very specific, very physical needs. And let’s just say my strong, sticky husband was more than equipped to handle them. All those extra tendrils came in very handy.
PETER: (His face is now completely red. He fans himself with his hand.) Wow. Okay. Yeah. That’s… that’s a story. Then there was the summer you and I went to Central Park and found that weird geode that fell from the sky…
MARY JANE: Oh, the Omnitrix! Yeah, instead of a kid named Ben Tennyson, I received it instead. One touch and suddenly I had access to many alien forms. Pyronite was great for roasting marshmallows, Tetramand was basically She-Hulk but an alien with four arms and four eyes… but my personal favorite is Galvanic Mechamorph because it would allow us to-
PETER: (Sputtering) MJ! The kids might—
MARY JANE: They’re not listening! Relax, tiger. Then there was the mishap at that gala at the Natural History Museum. I fell right into the exhibit…
PETER: The Clayface exhibit! Yes, I remember. Plus, Bruce Wayne and Reed Richards help you recover yourself from Joker. At that time, it didn't work right away. By the time I takes you home, you’re starts to become a shapeshifting mound of living clay. And you know what? You were still the most beautiful woman in the room. Even if you're a blob clay monster. That was… a unique experience.
MARY JANE: (Winking) You didn’t complain. Not once. And let’s not forget your own upgrade, Mr. Kamen Rider. When that ancient belt fused with your web-shooters…
PETER: (Strikes a mock-heroic pose) “Henshin!” Yeah, the armored suit was cool, I’ll admit. But it was nothing compared to you bursting through our bedroom wall as Cutey Honey, ready for… ahem… ‘action’.
MARY JANE: “Honey Flash!” It was all in the name of justice. And very, very thorough lovemaking.
(They both laugh, lost in the memory for a moment. Peter looks at MJ with utter love.)
PETER: Through it all… symbiote, aliens, clay, magical girl transformations, and many things… you’ve always been you, MJ. My Mary Jane. And I wouldn’t change a single, bizarre, incredible second of it.
MARY JANE: Me neither, Tiger. Me neither. Now, how about we tell our friends here about the time I—
(Suddenly, a door bursts open off-screen. A young girl, MAYDAY PARKER, about 8 years old, runs in, followed by her little brother, BENJY, who’s about 5.)
MAYDAY: Mom! Dad! Uncle Johnny is on fire in the backyard again!
BENJY: (Holding a action figure) He says it’s ‘flame on’ but it’s just the barbecue! It’s boring!
(Peter and MJ look at each other and sigh in perfect, happy unison.)
PETER: (To the ‘camera’, shrugging apologetically) Duty—and family—calls. Don’t worry, True Believers… there are plenty more stories where those came from.
MARY JANE: (Blows a kiss) And they’re all much, much better than ‘One More Day’. Promise!
(They get up from the couch, Peter swooping Benjy into his arms while MJ puts an arm around Mayday, and they walk out of the frame together, a perfect, loving, chaotic family.)
[STORY TITLE CARD APPEARS:]
PETER PARKER THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN & MARY-JANE WITH MANY TRANSFORMATIONS STORIES
[UPCOMING ATTRACTIONS LIST:]
* Peter Parker and Mary-Jane - The Amazing SPIDER-MAN & Venomess What if Mary-Jane bonds and has the symbiote at first instead Peter Parker.
* Spider-Man & MJ-10 What if Mary-Jane wields and have the Omnitrix instead of Ben Tennyson
* Spider-Man & ClayMJ MJ becomes a shapeshifting clay creature, and Peter proves his love is more than skin deep.
Body-hopping story
Penny scoots past her boyfriend and out from behind the table of the booth at the
back of the bar. She rushes to embrace Logan, who slips out of my arm to return
her hug. I wait, trying to tamp down my jealousy as I watch them together. I shift
my weight from one wide leg to the other beneath my elegant red dress, a smile
plastered on my face.
My eyes drift across Penny's best friend, Sophie, and Penny's boyfriend, Brent,
still seated at the table. The low burgundy mood lighting of the bar draws long
shadows across Brent's face but doesn't obscure the physical similarities between
him and Logan. I nod politely and he returns the gesture. Beside him, Sophie
gives a tiny wave before swiping her black bangs behind her pixie ears. Penny
releases Logan and he half turns to me, slipping his hand across the small of my
back.
“Hi everyone. This is A-- Denise,” he says, almost using my real name.
“Sounds like you almost forgot who she was,” Penny teases him.
A flicker of jealousy crosses her face. I'm aware she's seen many of Logan's
girlfriends. He seems to have a new one every month, though little does she
know that I’m inside every one.
She turns her sea green eyes on me and holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you,Denise.”
“And you,” I say, slipping my ebony fingers against her cool skin.
We've met a few times before, though this is our first time meeting her in my
current body. Penny is girl-next-door cute, with a little slip of a nose, big sea
green eyes, and a tight, petite body. It's not her attractiveness I envy as much as
Logan's attraction to her.
“This is Brent,” Penny says, nodding to her boyfriend who's still seated at the
table. “And Sophie.”
“Hi,” Logan says, raising his glass in greeting.
Sophie gives a small smile. She's compact, with thick framed glasses and a
plump, shapeless body covered in a deliberately ratty black leather jacket. Nice
face, though, with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her
black bangs covering her forehead. She's got a moody goth meets trendy punk
vibe about her. Naturally, I’ve met everyone here before, but I’m used to playing
the newbie.
Penny slides back into the booth and Logan slides in on the opposite side. It's a
curved booth, so Sophie ends up sandwiched between Logan and Penny. I take
the seat on the outside across from Brent. Penny and Logan are soon deeply
engaged in conversation with the easy air of two people who've known each
other forever. That leaves me, Brent and Sophie on our own. After an awkward
pause I turn to Logan.“I'll go get some drinks,” I say.
“Oh, no, let me go.”
“No, that's all right. I'm already out.” I say, scooting out from the booth and
hurrying away.
A crowd of people stands between me and the bar but the guys in line part for
me as I nudge them aside with my breasts and flash a white-toothed smile. Men
are so simple. When I reach the bar I lean on it, exposing my heavy cleavage,
letting my tits swing down pendulously for the bartender's amusement. In the
mirror behind the bar I catch sight of my current reflection.
I'm in the body of a Black twenty-year-old with a bright smile and a heavenly
body. Curvaceous and full, with thick hips and eye-wateringly large breasts. Her
real name is Denise. I picked her up a few weeks ago on the nearby campus,
hopping into her and leaving behind the body of a twenty-five-year-old blondehaired blue-eyed Swede that I feared Logan was tiring of. I walked away,
clutching my backpack as the Swede looked around in shock, no doubt surprised
to find herself on campus when the last thing she remembered was sitting
outside the patio of the hostel in the middle of the city.
I've learned over my several lifetimes that the bodies I inhabit have no memories
of anything I do while I'm inside. To them, between one blink and the next,
weeks or months have passed. They're suddenly in an unfamiliar place, dressed
in different clothes, sometimes surrounded by complete strangers. I rarely stick
around to find how they like their new lives, though a few times I've often
wondered about them. What happened to that bald businessman with the fullfacial tattoo I gave him? Has the pastor's daughter discovered the porn films she
starred in?
The bartender approaches me, drawing my attention back to the present. He
glances at my bouncy black tits with a grin and then asks for my order. I ask for
a white wine for myself and a beer for Logan. As I wait I glance around the bar
and worry. Penny always has that effect on me. Logan insists I've nothing to be
jealous of but I see the way he looks at her, the way he drops whatever he's
doing to be by her side. And the way she looks at him when she thinks no one's
looking. He made me promise never to hop into her and so far I've kept my
word. For him.
I thought Logan would enjoy Denise and he did, for a time. But I sense he's been
distant from me lately. Has he tired of this body already? I'm willing to give him
anything he wants. We're perfect together. He must see that.
In the corner by the window I see a young twenty something hipster talking to a
vivacious blonde. Even from here I can sense the awkwardness of a first date. He
must know she's way out of his league. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a
model. She wears an effortlessly trendy white top and black jeans, both of which
cling to her supple body. Her arms are toned and her face in profile is all
beautiful angles. A face photographers love.
The bartender returns with my drinks. I pay with Denise's card and bring the
drinks back to the table. The others are laughing about something as I set down
Logan's drink.
“Did I miss something funny?” I ask, sliding in next to Logan.“Penny was just telling me about Jane from her work.”
“Ah, the one who believes in magic crystals?” I ask.
Penny raises an elegant eyebrow. Goddamn her for being so fucking adorable. I
tamp down the jealousy as it flares in me.
“Logan's told you about her, has he?” Penny asks.
I realize my error in that this body has never met Penny before, but Logan jumps
in. “We were down on the Boulevard by that herbal shop yesterday and it
reminded me of her.”
Sophie, apparently sensing an opportunity, jumps in and turns the conversation
to me. “How did you two meet?”
Penny sips her drink, occasionally swiping her auburn hair out of her eyes as I
make up some vague story about meeting outside a cafe. Logan jumps in with
some random details. We've both been enjoying my body hopping abilities long
enough to be able to convincingly lie about how we met. It's amazing how far
simply agreeing with whatever details the other person throws out will get you.
Somehow the conversation comes back around to an amusing anecdote
involving Penny and Logan. As they converse I stroke Logan's thigh with my
long fingers. He shoots me a hesitant grin, then resumes whatever story he's in
the middle of telling. Penny keeps her eyes on him. I think, not for the first time,how easy it would be to just hop into Penny's body and make Logan love me.
But would he still love me if he knew I was inside? Is it something about Penny's
Penny-ness that he loves? I can offer him anyone he wants.
Brent is the strong, silent type. He speaks only to throw in a witty remark here
and there but otherwise content to let the conversation roll over him. In those
little remarks I get a spark of his wit and wonder if that's what Penny sees in him
and if she sees that mirrored in Logan.
Sophie giggles a lot and sits low in the bar, hiding behind her drink. I've met her
a few times. She's Penny's best friend and something of a know-it-all,
unpretentiously correcting details. But she does it so well as to make the
recipient seem grateful rather than resentful. I’ve never had the pleasure of
hopping her. Never seen the need.
I spend most of the evening making up a life story about myself. Though I can
hop into these bodies I don't have any of their memories, just like they have none
of mine. All I have is what I can deduce from their physical belongings. The
invention of email and texting and social media has been a huge help for me and
has made peeling back the private details of the lives I take over so much easier.
Of course, ever since I met Logan two years ago and revealed to him my abilities
I've been able to be myself, forgoing the pretense of acting like whoever I’m in
and just being myself.
Logan is the love of my life. Before him I would sneak in between other people's
lives, trying to fit myself around someone else’s existence. It's been nice having
someone know the real me, being able to settle down and experience a human
life with someone in love with me, not the person I appear to be. I've never been
in love before. Maybe why it's why it's so goddamn maddening to watch Logan
flirt with Penny.An hour and a half, and two drinks later I'm leaning on Logan, my breasts
pressed against his shoulder. I'm half drunk—Denise is a lightweight—and I paw
at him, stroking his chest until he finally pays attention to me. He turns his big
brown eyes to me and I whisper in his ear:
“Take me home.”
Under the table, my hand slips between his legs and I give his cock a friendly
squeeze. He jumps and blushes, before making some excuse to go. I rise on
unsteady legs and cling to Logan as we walk towards the door.
“Logam... arm I boring you?” I ask, slurring my words slightly.
He takes my hand. “Ariana, of course not.”
“I just wanted to go.” I fluff out my thick dark hair as the room spins gently
around me.
“I know,” he says, squeezing my hand.
We're nearly out the door and the question of what Logan wants is foremost in
my mind when I catch sight of the vivacious blonde again. She's still with the
hipster guy and they're both in deep conversation. Close up I can see she's hot.
Much hotter than Penny but with a similar body shape. With a sudden clarity I
see that this is what Logan wants.I push away from Logan, stumbling slightly as I approach the blonde from
behind. The world is shimmery and sways back and forth with my drunkenness.
My wide hips bump into a chair but I don't stop to apologize as the owner shoots
me a look.
“Ariana, no,” Logan calls out from behind me.
I ignore him. He must know I'm doing this for him. I reach out and touch the
blonde's bare shoulder and hop into her body.
I'm suddenly sitting down on a stool that feels hard under my taut ass and the
world resolves into crystal clarity. This body isn't drunk at all. Wavy blonde hair
spills down one shoulder and my fingers clasp an icy glass. The hipster guy is in
the middle of saying something but I ignore him and push away from the table,
walking to the door where Logan still stands. This new body is a delight, slender
and firm. Logan's going to have so much fun with it.
I pass Denise without a word. She's gripping the back of a chair, swaying as she
glances around, something like terror in her eyes.
“What's going on?” She mumbles, looking down at herself, at the fancy dress I
bought for her and forced her stacked body into. It was much skimpier and much
more expensive than anything in her dorm room. Not that she’ll appreciate it.
I sometimes wish the bodies remembered what I'd done after I hopped out,
instead of my just leaving large, blank gaps. That way they would make less of ascene when I leave. Or maybe not, based on some of the things I've made them
do. As it is, the best way to deal with someone suddenly being snapped back to
an unfamiliar present is to get away. Logan—and everyone else in the room—is
gawking at Denise as she starts to panic. I slip my new arm through Logan's and
usher him out the door. The hipster guy watches in astonishment as I go. He'll
soon be distracted by the new amusement of Denise having a complete
breakdown in the middle of the room.2
I'm still laughing about Denise when we arrive at Logan's apartment. He shuts
the door behind us and I turn to him, pressing my new hands against his chest.
These hands are soft and delicate, the fingernails painted a deep burgundy.
They've never done a hard day's work. This pampered princess is my gift to him.
Logan grabs my hands but instead of kissing them he looks down at me angrily.
“Why did you do that, Ariana?”
“Do what?”
“Take this woman's body and leave Denise there.”
“You don't like her?” I look down at the tight little body I possess, at the taut pair
of breasts sticking out invitingly from my chest, at the jeans that are practically
painted on to my legs and which highlight my perfect heart shaped ass. Okay,
these tits are much smaller, but it all works together. What could Logan possibly
have against perfection?
“What if Penny sees Denise? What do you think she'll say if she finds my
current girlfriend alone in the bar insisting she's someone else?”
“Oh, so this is about Penny?” I scowl and pull back from him, balling my handsinto tiny fists.
“No,” he insists, running his hands through his wild brown hair. “It's about
everything. It's about you taking these people's lives. I've never seen you do it
before and I didn't realize--”
“You didn't realize what I am? Without someone else’s body I don’t exist. I
choose them for you, baby. Maybe if I'd taken Penny you'd be a lot more
grateful.”
“No! Don't take--” He shouts, then softer: “No. No. That's-- that's not what I
meant. I know you're a hopper.”
I let him take my fists and he runs his thumbs across the back of each hand,
stroking me gently.
“I don't need you to take anyone,” he says, “Not like that.”
“I just want to make you happy. I'm yours and you're mine.” I frown.
“I know,” he says, and kisses the back of my hands.
“When I see you with Penny--” I start but he pulls me close and shushes me with
a kiss.“Let's not think about Penny. Let's just think about us.”
There's an odd tone to his voice but we kiss again and I forget my worries as I
melt into him. This petite blonde body I'm in is sexy and fun as hell. I drape my
arms around Logan's neck and suck on his tongue, enjoying his masculine taste
while I rest my perky tits against his chest. He grips me firmly by the waist and
we kiss urgently. His hands feel so big on my tiny body and I get the feeling he
could throw me around and do what he wants with me. The feeling of
powerlessness is a thrill that sends little shivers down my spine.
Still kissing, I drag my hands down his shoulder blades and then down his back,
before slipping beneath his shirt to run my fingers across his pecs. He's warm
and firm. Everything I need.
We undress each other with reckless abandon, throwing clothes across the room
until we're both naked. We take the time to look down at my body, admiring this
woman's petite form. I do a little spin for Logan, sliding my hands around the
enticing curves of my taut ass, showing off this stranger's naked body. My tits
are small and firm, rising to sharp peaks, the nipples just out, hard as diamonds.
My blonde hair spills down my shoulders and my laugh is high pitched and cute
as Logan strokes my cheek. He stares deeply into my eyes before taking me back
in his arms. His cock is hard and pressed against my stomach. My hands slide
down between us and I grasp him, stroking gently.
His warm cock fills my hand as I stroke it, feeling impossibly big beneath my
tiny fingers. His hands find my tits, squeeze gently, then glide down my back to
my ass and cup each butt cheek. He squeezes once and returns his attention to
my tits. He's greedy for my new body and he explores me by touch while we
continue kissing. His hands work across my chest as my hand moves up and
down his shaft and soon his warm pre-cum is dotted on my stomach.I get on my knees in front of him, eager to please, knowing exactly how to
please him. His cock is bold and throbbing, pointing at my face. I open my new
mouth and take him in between my soft red lips, closing my eyes in ecstasy as
his warmth slides between my lips and across my tongue. I drag my mouth down
his delicious cock as far as I can before pulling back up, leaving his shaft slick
and shiny. I pull off, a strand of saliva still connecting my lips to the head of his
cock. I look up at him with wide, innocent eyes and he returns my gaze and
strokes my cheek.
I lick my lips and dive back down on his cock, sucking eagerly, using my little
hand to stroke the base of his cock to the rhythm of my blowjob. He groans
above me as I fill my mouth with him. My free hand dives between my legs, my
fingers slipping into my growing wetness. This little blonde bombshell is horny
as hell and eager for a good fucking. Her pussy feels so tight and wet. I know
Logan is going to love it.
I suck Logan's dick, speeding up and slowing down to his rhythm, keeping him
just on the edge. His tangy pre-cum drips across my tongue and I swallow
happily. All the while I stroke my new pussy, exploring my velvety folds.
They're slick and warm with lust. When Logan's moans grow louder he grabs my
blonde locks in a fist and holds me still.
“Not yet,” he hisses between clenched teeth, fighting to get himself under
control.
He throbs once, twice in my mouth, and then stills, holding himself in check. He
removes his hand and I pull back off his cock with a wet pop. My new pussy is
dripping, a light bead of juice making its way down my thighs.I pull him onto the floor on top of me, spreading my limber legs and wrapping
them around his waist, urging him closer. He grabs his cock and aims it at my
center. I watch with glee as I open for him, the head of his cock disappearing
between my velvety pussy lips. The glorious pressure builds against my tight
entrance, growing, growing, and then I stretch for him. He enters me slowly,
delicately, and it's all I can do to not beg him to hurry, to slip deep inside and fill
me. Inch by inch he enters, and I hurry him by raising my hips and enveloping
him with a throaty moan. I'm so tight and he feels so big but, god, it's just what
this little body needs.
Christ, I can feel all of his shaft as it curves up through me, filling me. He lodges
right against the dimpled nub of my inner center, holding there, before
withdrawing. My hands come to my new tits. I'm still getting used to them,
they're much smaller and firmer than Denise's, but fun nonetheless. I caress
them, pinch and squeeze, tweaking each nipple, trying to find what this body
likes.
Logan rests his body on mine, hands running up my sides as he kisses down my
front, and I have to move one hand so his lips and teeth can find a nipple. His hot
breath sends shivers across my skin, and he nips at me as he thrusts his cock
inside. The heat is twisting through me and I need this so much. I clutch him
tighter, both of us playing with my nipples as he fucks me harder. The wet
sounds of my pussy fill my ears and I throw my head back as the heat blisters
through me. I cry out loud, my voice high pitched and needy as I cum.
Logan thrusts deep and grunts, throbbing into me. Every spurt is magical,
bringing with it an incredible fullness, a wet heat that burns me so beautifully. I
clutch him tight and cry out, my body joyous for release as the orgasm spills
through me. We grunt and rock together, connected by hands lips, tongues, and
cock, our bodies moving together in blissful harmony. Logan slows and rests on
top of me, his wonderful weight pressing me to the floor. I stroke his back while
he grows soft inside of me, finally slipping out and leaving me achingly empty.He hoists me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom, kissing me once before
setting me on the bed. I fall asleep with my arm clutching him from behind, his
warm body pressing against me, his masculine smell deep in my nose.
Penny scoots past her boyfriend and out from behind the table of the booth at the
back of the bar. She rushes to embrace Logan, who slips out of my arm to return
her hug. I wait, trying to tamp down my jealousy as I watch them together. I shift
my weight from one wide leg to the other beneath my elegant red dress, a smile
plastered on my face.
My eyes drift across Penny's best friend, Sophie, and Penny's boyfriend, Brent,
still seated at the table. The low burgundy mood lighting of the bar draws long
shadows across Brent's face but doesn't obscure the physical similarities between
him and Logan. I nod politely and he returns the gesture. Beside him, Sophie
gives a tiny wave before swiping her black bangs behind her pixie ears. Penny
releases Logan and he half turns to me, slipping his hand across the small of my
back.
“Hi everyone. This is A-- Denise,” he says, almost using my real name.
“Sounds like you almost forgot who she was,” Penny teases him.
A flicker of jealousy crosses her face. I'm aware she's seen many of Logan's
girlfriends. He seems to have a new one every month, though little does she
know that I’m inside every one.
She turns her sea green eyes on me and holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you,Denise.”
“And you,” I say, slipping my ebony fingers against her cool skin.
We've met a few times before, though this is our first time meeting her in my
current body. Penny is girl-next-door cute, with a little slip of a nose, big sea
green eyes, and a tight, petite body. It's not her attractiveness I envy as much as
Logan's attraction to her.
“This is Brent,” Penny says, nodding to her boyfriend who's still seated at the
table. “And Sophie.”
“Hi,” Logan says, raising his glass in greeting.
Sophie gives a small smile. She's compact, with thick framed glasses and a
plump, shapeless body covered in a deliberately ratty black leather jacket. Nice
face, though, with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her
black bangs covering her forehead. She's got a moody goth meets trendy punk
vibe about her. Naturally, I’ve met everyone here before, but I’m used to playing
the newbie.
Penny slides back into the booth and Logan slides in on the opposite side. It's a
curved booth, so Sophie ends up sandwiched between Logan and Penny. I take
the seat on the outside across from Brent. Penny and Logan are soon deeply
engaged in conversation with the easy air of two people who've known each
other forever. That leaves me, Brent and Sophie on our own. After an awkward
pause I turn to Logan.“I'll go get some drinks,” I say.
“Oh, no, let me go.”
“No, that's all right. I'm already out.” I say, scooting out from the booth and
hurrying away.
A crowd of people stands between me and the bar but the guys in line part for
me as I nudge them aside with my breasts and flash a white-toothed smile. Men
are so simple. When I reach the bar I lean on it, exposing my heavy cleavage,
letting my tits swing down pendulously for the bartender's amusement. In the
mirror behind the bar I catch sight of my current reflection.
I'm in the body of a Black twenty-year-old with a bright smile and a heavenly
body. Curvaceous and full, with thick hips and eye-wateringly large breasts. Her
real name is Denise. I picked her up a few weeks ago on the nearby campus,
hopping into her and leaving behind the body of a twenty-five-year-old blondehaired blue-eyed Swede that I feared Logan was tiring of. I walked away,
clutching my backpack as the Swede looked around in shock, no doubt surprised
to find herself on campus when the last thing she remembered was sitting
outside the patio of the hostel in the middle of the city.
I've learned over my several lifetimes that the bodies I inhabit have no memories
of anything I do while I'm inside. To them, between one blink and the next,
weeks or months have passed. They're suddenly in an unfamiliar place, dressed
in different clothes, sometimes surrounded by complete strangers. I rarely stick
around to find how they like their new lives, though a few times I've often
wondered about them. What happened to that bald businessman with the fullfacial tattoo I gave him? Has the pastor's daughter discovered the porn films she
starred in?
The bartender approaches me, drawing my attention back to the present. He
glances at my bouncy black tits with a grin and then asks for my order. I ask for
a white wine for myself and a beer for Logan. As I wait I glance around the bar
and worry. Penny always has that effect on me. Logan insists I've nothing to be
jealous of but I see the way he looks at her, the way he drops whatever he's
doing to be by her side. And the way she looks at him when she thinks no one's
looking. He made me promise never to hop into her and so far I've kept my
word. For him.
I thought Logan would enjoy Denise and he did, for a time. But I sense he's been
distant from me lately. Has he tired of this body already? I'm willing to give him
anything he wants. We're perfect together. He must see that.
In the corner by the window I see a young twenty something hipster talking to a
vivacious blonde. Even from here I can sense the awkwardness of a first date. He
must know she's way out of his league. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a
model. She wears an effortlessly trendy white top and black jeans, both of which
cling to her supple body. Her arms are toned and her face in profile is all
beautiful angles. A face photographers love.
The bartender returns with my drinks. I pay with Denise's card and bring the
drinks back to the table. The others are laughing about something as I set down
Logan's drink.
“Did I miss something funny?” I ask, sliding in next to Logan.“Penny was just telling me about Jane from her work.”
“Ah, the one who believes in magic crystals?” I ask.
Penny raises an elegant eyebrow. Goddamn her for being so fucking adorable. I
tamp down the jealousy as it flares in me.
“Logan's told you about her, has he?” Penny asks.
I realize my error in that this body has never met Penny before, but Logan jumps
in. “We were down on the Boulevard by that herbal shop yesterday and it
reminded me of her.”
Sophie, apparently sensing an opportunity, jumps in and turns the conversation
to me. “How did you two meet?”
Penny sips her drink, occasionally swiping her auburn hair out of her eyes as I
make up some vague story about meeting outside a cafe. Logan jumps in with
some random details. We've both been enjoying my body hopping abilities long
enough to be able to convincingly lie about how we met. It's amazing how far
simply agreeing with whatever details the other person throws out will get you.
Somehow the conversation comes back around to an amusing anecdote
involving Penny and Logan. As they converse I stroke Logan's thigh with my
long fingers. He shoots me a hesitant grin, then resumes whatever story he's in
the middle of telling. Penny keeps her eyes on him. I think, not for the first time,how easy it would be to just hop into Penny's body and make Logan love me.
But would he still love me if he knew I was inside? Is it something about Penny's
Penny-ness that he loves? I can offer him anyone he wants.
Brent is the strong, silent type. He speaks only to throw in a witty remark here
and there but otherwise content to let the conversation roll over him. In those
little remarks I get a spark of his wit and wonder if that's what Penny sees in him
and if she sees that mirrored in Logan.
Sophie giggles a lot and sits low in the bar, hiding behind her drink. I've met her
a few times. She's Penny's best friend and something of a know-it-all,
unpretentiously correcting details. But she does it so well as to make the
recipient seem grateful rather than resentful. I’ve never had the pleasure of
hopping her. Never seen the need.
I spend most of the evening making up a life story about myself. Though I can
hop into these bodies I don't have any of their memories, just like they have none
of mine. All I have is what I can deduce from their physical belongings. The
invention of email and texting and social media has been a huge help for me and
has made peeling back the private details of the lives I take over so much easier.
Of course, ever since I met Logan two years ago and revealed to him my abilities
I've been able to be myself, forgoing the pretense of acting like whoever I’m in
and just being myself.
Logan is the love of my life. Before him I would sneak in between other people's
lives, trying to fit myself around someone else’s existence. It's been nice having
someone know the real me, being able to settle down and experience a human
life with someone in love with me, not the person I appear to be. I've never been
in love before. Maybe why it's why it's so goddamn maddening to watch Logan
flirt with Penny.An hour and a half, and two drinks later I'm leaning on Logan, my breasts
pressed against his shoulder. I'm half drunk—Denise is a lightweight—and I paw
at him, stroking his chest until he finally pays attention to me. He turns his big
brown eyes to me and I whisper in his ear:
“Take me home.”
Under the table, my hand slips between his legs and I give his cock a friendly
squeeze. He jumps and blushes, before making some excuse to go. I rise on
unsteady legs and cling to Logan as we walk towards the door.
“Logam... arm I boring you?” I ask, slurring my words slightly.
He takes my hand. “Ariana, of course not.”
“I just wanted to go.” I fluff out my thick dark hair as the room spins gently
around me.
“I know,” he says, squeezing my hand.
We're nearly out the door and the question of what Logan wants is foremost in
my mind when I catch sight of the vivacious blonde again. She's still with the
hipster guy and they're both in deep conversation. Close up I can see she's hot.
Much hotter than Penny but with a similar body shape. With a sudden clarity I
see that this is what Logan wants.I push away from Logan, stumbling slightly as I approach the blonde from
behind. The world is shimmery and sways back and forth with my drunkenness.
My wide hips bump into a chair but I don't stop to apologize as the owner shoots
me a look.
“Ariana, no,” Logan calls out from behind me.
I ignore him. He must know I'm doing this for him. I reach out and touch the
blonde's bare shoulder and hop into her body.
I'm suddenly sitting down on a stool that feels hard under my taut ass and the
world resolves into crystal clarity. This body isn't drunk at all. Wavy blonde hair
spills down one shoulder and my fingers clasp an icy glass. The hipster guy is in
the middle of saying something but I ignore him and push away from the table,
walking to the door where Logan still stands. This new body is a delight, slender
and firm. Logan's going to have so much fun with it.
I pass Denise without a word. She's gripping the back of a chair, swaying as she
glances around, something like terror in her eyes.
“What's going on?” She mumbles, looking down at herself, at the fancy dress I
bought for her and forced her stacked body into. It was much skimpier and much
more expensive than anything in her dorm room. Not that she’ll appreciate it.
I sometimes wish the bodies remembered what I'd done after I hopped out,
instead of my just leaving large, blank gaps. That way they would make less of ascene when I leave. Or maybe not, based on some of the things I've made them
do. As it is, the best way to deal with someone suddenly being snapped back to
an unfamiliar present is to get away. Logan—and everyone else in the room—is
gawking at Denise as she starts to panic. I slip my new arm through Logan's and
usher him out the door. The hipster guy watches in astonishment as I go. He'll
soon be distracted by the new amusement of Denise having a complete
breakdown in the middle of the room.2
I'm still laughing about Denise when we arrive at Logan's apartment. He shuts
the door behind us and I turn to him, pressing my new hands against his chest.
These hands are soft and delicate, the fingernails painted a deep burgundy.
They've never done a hard day's work. This pampered princess is my gift to him.
Logan grabs my hands but instead of kissing them he looks down at me angrily.
“Why did you do that, Ariana?”
“Do what?”
“Take this woman's body and leave Denise there.”
“You don't like her?” I look down at the tight little body I possess, at the taut pair
of breasts sticking out invitingly from my chest, at the jeans that are practically
painted on to my legs and which highlight my perfect heart shaped ass. Okay,
these tits are much smaller, but it all works together. What could Logan possibly
have against perfection?
“What if Penny sees Denise? What do you think she'll say if she finds my
current girlfriend alone in the bar insisting she's someone else?”
“Oh, so this is about Penny?” I scowl and pull back from him, balling my handsinto tiny fists.
“No,” he insists, running his hands through his wild brown hair. “It's about
everything. It's about you taking these people's lives. I've never seen you do it
before and I didn't realize--”
“You didn't realize what I am? Without someone else’s body I don’t exist. I
choose them for you, baby. Maybe if I'd taken Penny you'd be a lot more
grateful.”
“No! Don't take--” He shouts, then softer: “No. No. That's-- that's not what I
meant. I know you're a hopper.”
I let him take my fists and he runs his thumbs across the back of each hand,
stroking me gently.
“I don't need you to take anyone,” he says, “Not like that.”
“I just want to make you happy. I'm yours and you're mine.” I frown.
“I know,” he says, and kisses the back of my hands.
“When I see you with Penny--” I start but he pulls me close and shushes me with
a kiss.“Let's not think about Penny. Let's just think about us.”
There's an odd tone to his voice but we kiss again and I forget my worries as I
melt into him. This petite blonde body I'm in is sexy and fun as hell. I drape my
arms around Logan's neck and suck on his tongue, enjoying his masculine taste
while I rest my perky tits against his chest. He grips me firmly by the waist and
we kiss urgently. His hands feel so big on my tiny body and I get the feeling he
could throw me around and do what he wants with me. The feeling of
powerlessness is a thrill that sends little shivers down my spine.
Still kissing, I drag my hands down his shoulder blades and then down his back,
before slipping beneath his shirt to run my fingers across his pecs. He's warm
and firm. Everything I need.
We undress each other with reckless abandon, throwing clothes across the room
until we're both naked. We take the time to look down at my body, admiring this
woman's petite form. I do a little spin for Logan, sliding my hands around the
enticing curves of my taut ass, showing off this stranger's naked body. My tits
are small and firm, rising to sharp peaks, the nipples just out, hard as diamonds.
My blonde hair spills down my shoulders and my laugh is high pitched and cute
as Logan strokes my cheek. He stares deeply into my eyes before taking me back
in his arms. His cock is hard and pressed against my stomach. My hands slide
down between us and I grasp him, stroking gently.
His warm cock fills my hand as I stroke it, feeling impossibly big beneath my
tiny fingers. His hands find my tits, squeeze gently, then glide down my back to
my ass and cup each butt cheek. He squeezes once and returns his attention to
my tits. He's greedy for my new body and he explores me by touch while we
continue kissing. His hands work across my chest as my hand moves up and
down his shaft and soon his warm pre-cum is dotted on my stomach.I get on my knees in front of him, eager to please, knowing exactly how to
please him. His cock is bold and throbbing, pointing at my face. I open my new
mouth and take him in between my soft red lips, closing my eyes in ecstasy as
his warmth slides between my lips and across my tongue. I drag my mouth down
his delicious cock as far as I can before pulling back up, leaving his shaft slick
and shiny. I pull off, a strand of saliva still connecting my lips to the head of his
cock. I look up at him with wide, innocent eyes and he returns my gaze and
strokes my cheek.
I lick my lips and dive back down on his cock, sucking eagerly, using my little
hand to stroke the base of his cock to the rhythm of my blowjob. He groans
above me as I fill my mouth with him. My free hand dives between my legs, my
fingers slipping into my growing wetness. This little blonde bombshell is horny
as hell and eager for a good fucking. Her pussy feels so tight and wet. I know
Logan is going to love it.
I suck Logan's dick, speeding up and slowing down to his rhythm, keeping him
just on the edge. His tangy pre-cum drips across my tongue and I swallow
happily. All the while I stroke my new pussy, exploring my velvety folds.
They're slick and warm with lust. When Logan's moans grow louder he grabs my
blonde locks in a fist and holds me still.
“Not yet,” he hisses between clenched teeth, fighting to get himself under
control.
He throbs once, twice in my mouth, and then stills, holding himself in check. He
removes his hand and I pull back off his cock with a wet pop. My new pussy is
dripping, a light bead of juice making its way down my thighs.I pull him onto the floor on top of me, spreading my limber legs and wrapping
them around his waist, urging him closer. He grabs his cock and aims it at my
center. I watch with glee as I open for him, the head of his cock disappearing
between my velvety pussy lips. The glorious pressure builds against my tight
entrance, growing, growing, and then I stretch for him. He enters me slowly,
delicately, and it's all I can do to not beg him to hurry, to slip deep inside and fill
me. Inch by inch he enters, and I hurry him by raising my hips and enveloping
him with a throaty moan. I'm so tight and he feels so big but, god, it's just what
this little body needs.
Christ, I can feel all of his shaft as it curves up through me, filling me. He lodges
right against the dimpled nub of my inner center, holding there, before
withdrawing. My hands come to my new tits. I'm still getting used to them,
they're much smaller and firmer than Denise's, but fun nonetheless. I caress
them, pinch and squeeze, tweaking each nipple, trying to find what this body
likes.
Logan rests his body on mine, hands running up my sides as he kisses down my
front, and I have to move one hand so his lips and teeth can find a nipple. His hot
breath sends shivers across my skin, and he nips at me as he thrusts his cock
inside. The heat is twisting through me and I need this so much. I clutch him
tighter, both of us playing with my nipples as he fucks me harder. The wet
sounds of my pussy fill my ears and I throw my head back as the heat blisters
through me. I cry out loud, my voice high pitched and needy as I cum.
Logan thrusts deep and grunts, throbbing into me. Every spurt is magical,
bringing with it an incredible fullness, a wet heat that burns me so beautifully. I
clutch him tight and cry out, my body joyous for release as the orgasm spills
through me. We grunt and rock together, connected by hands lips, tongues, and
cock, our bodies moving together in blissful harmony. Logan slows and rests on
top of me, his wonderful weight pressing me to the floor. I stroke his back while
he grows soft inside of me, finally slipping out and leaving me achingly empty.He hoists me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom, kissing me once before
setting me on the bed. I fall asleep with my arm clutching him from behind, his
warm body pressing against me, his masculine smell deep in my nose.
Calyope is a bisexual witch who has settled down with a normal guy. But when she discovers a magical rune of transformation, she thinks she might have discovered a way to have the best of both worlds.
Calyope was a novice witch. A witch that had recently had a whirlwind romance and married a man who was everything she’d ever wanted. Almost. Despite loving Eric’s masculine body, there were times she found herself wanting something different in bed. She really did enjoy the feel of her husband’s hard cock sliding between her legs. The way he held her down with his powerful body and the long moan he’d make as he erupted inside of her.
She loved it. She really did. And it should have been enough. Except…Calyope was bisexual. And even though she loved her husband’s cock and the feel of his abs and the way he fucked her with such intensity, she found herself missing the touch of a woman. There was just something about the feeling of running her fingers across gentle curves. The inhale of sweet perfume on impossibly soft breasts. The vibrant feminine moans that escaped as she used her tongue to taste a deliciously wet pussy. The feeling of her soft curves. The sweet smells. The taste of pussy on her tongue.
When Calyope chose to marry Eric, she thought she’d given up on those desires. It had been easy at first. Her high sex drive helped her go out of her way to seduce him the moment he got home from work. She would devour him, enticing him to make love in any and every position he wanted. She was his completely. So why was she still having all these fantasies about being in bed with a woman?! And it was only getting worse. The more she thought about what she’d left behind, the more she craved it. This made her feel guilty, because she had a good thing with Eric. He loved her. Had accepted her being a witch with no issues at all. And he worked so hard to help provide for their home. He had too, since he didn’t have an ounce of magical ability himself.
She told herself it was enough and that she should just move forward with her husband and his hot body. And she might have, until an old book of spells suddenly appeared on her doorstep one day. She was very curious who had dropped it off. She thought about doing a trace spell, but forgot the incantation and would have to look it up. But she got distracted from further investigation as she opened the pages. It contained a lot of advanced magic, some that might take years to master. She was about to put it aside, when she came across an intricate rune called ‘Overlaid’ that contained elements of mind control and physical transformation.
Her heart quickened its pace as she read further. To place the rune, a complicated spell must be uttered while placing hands on a person who was willing to be transformed. While chanting, the caster must envision the new shape they want the subject to take, as well as their state of mind. If done properly, a rune would be created on the person that when activated, would overlay their mind and body with a completely new persona.
It could completely alter their mind, giving them the thoughts, feelings and desires implanted by the caster, while also changing their shape, even their gender. Calyope’s heart began to beat faster as she reread the part about changing gender. It was exactly the kind of spell she was looking for that would allow her to have her cake, and be able to fuck it too.
There were two problems though. This was a very risky spell that used borderline dark magic to temporarily alter a person’s thoughts and appearance. But it also required a willing subject. It was one thing to roleplay in the bedroom. This was on another level entirely. Her husband would have to trust her so much!
Had they even been married long enough for her to ask such a thing of Eric? He’d always been so accepting of her, and had thus far been willing to do whatever she wanted to do in the bedroom. If she asked him in just the right way, perhaps with her legs wrapped around him, he’d consent to this wild idea. She grew wet as she thought of asking him for this erotic favor while his big cock was buried in her pussy.
She looked up from the book, suddenly wondering where Eric was. She wanted to fuck him right now! Why was he at work so much of the time?!
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her jump in her seat. Then she heard her husband’s deep sexy voice ask, “Whatchya reading there?”
Calyope suddenly felt very embarrassed, and turned bright red. They were married. She could talk to him about anything. But this was so kinky, so perverted, and she wasn’t sure he was really ready for that conversation. So she lied. “N-nothing you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, well now I have to see!” Eric said, and he lunged for his wife.
Calyoped giggled and shoved the book out of his reach as he landed on top of her. They mock wrestled and clung to each other for several seconds. But then his hands were squeezing her boobs and she was pulling his shirt over his head between needy kisses. “I need you inside me,” she begged.
Eric smirked as he removed his underwear. “Don’t you always.”
It was true. She’d never been disinterested in sex with Eric. Sex with her man was always on the table. Would she still feel that way if he had different parts? If he exchanged his chiseled pecs for a pair of bouncy double D’s, or his hard throbbing cock for a wet and warm pussy?
The thought of it made her grasp his dick and stroke it while she looked up at him and begged. “Please! Shove it in. Right now!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. Then he tenderly lay her down on the floor, and pushed into her.
“Fuck!” she howled, loving the initial moment of penetration. “Yeah. Give it to me hard baby! Just the way I like it!”
Thoughts of telling him about the transformation rune vanished from her mind. All she could think of was how good his cock felt. Her brain grew wonderfully fuzzy with each thrust, and all she could think to do was wrap her legs around his torso and to pull him deeper.
She came before he did. She always did.
As Eric watched her scream in ecstasy, he said, “Oh fuck! That’ll do it!” He grunted and moaned as he shot inside his wife.
He rolled off and lay beside her on their living room floor, both panting from the sudden but wonderful exertion.
“Not complaining, but what brought that on?” Eric finally asked.
“Um…well, uh, I found a new spell…” Calyope said shyly.
‘Oh yeah?” Eric said bemused. “What kind of spell?”
Calyope decided to just rip the bandaid. She shut her eyes tight and said, “It lets you transform a person!”
Eric laughed. “Want me to have an even bigger dick, is that it?”
“No!” Calyope clarified quickly. “Your dick is perfect!” And she really meant it. She loved his cock the way it was. It fit her perfectly. Stretched her out in all the right ways, like it was made for her. But, if Eric were also a woman, they’d just be getting STARTED with their lovemaking. “This would be transforming you…in other ways. I’d really be swapping out your dick with…something else…” She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath. She was so nervous about telling him, but it was right there.
After a moment of confused silence, Eric asked, “Swap it out for what?”
“Well…You know how I also like girls, right?”
“I am aware,” Eric said, wisely choking down a laugh as he realized how hard this was for his wife to say.
“This spell would let me change you into a woman.”
“A woman?!” Eric repeated with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Not permanently or anything! Just like, it puts a magical rune on your skin, like a tattoo. And whenever I activate the rune, I could turn you into a girl, and back again, whenever I, er, WE, wanted to.” There was more to it, but she decided to leave out the fact that it also altered the mind. “The spell says the subject must be willing to have it placed on you. So, you’d have to give me consent, and I completely understand if you need time to think about it, and I’ll still love you if you say no so don’t think that you have to-”
“I’m down,” he said, cutting her off with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope’s breath caught as her husband just casually agreed to let her fuse a rune to his skin that would allow her to radically change him! She again thought about letting him know that she’d be able to change his thoughts and personality, but didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind. She told herself he wouldn’t care, because he’d so quickly agreed. He wanted to make her happy. And during the times he was a girl, she’d definitely go out of her way to make him happy as well.
Eric interrupted her by asking, “So, do you want to do this now or…”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It was amazing enough that he was willing to do it, but even sweeter that he was willing to do it immediately. She reached out to play with his short dark hair. “That’s incredibly sweet, but no, not now.”
She noticed his expression change to one of disappointment, so she hastened to explain, “I’ll need time to read over the spell. It’s a long and tricky one and I don’t want to botch it. Plus, I’ll want to think of the type of…um…,” she felt her cheeks turning pink again. “...body I’d like you to have as a girl.”
Eric grinned. “Oh yeah? You got certain attributes in mind?” He looked down at his impressive chest and abs. “Thinking of turning my pecs into some nice round melons you can suck on? Boy, that’d be so weird, but like, yeah, it’d be cool to have your mouth there on a couple of big titties.”
That kind of talk really got Calyope’s motor running. She didn’t admit that was the first thing she’d thought about, but instead picked a more aesthetic detail. “Well, I mean, I love your hair color, but I’d just make it a little longer. Like shoulder length, and straight. I’d round out your face a bit, making it more feminine. Ooh, I’d give you full, luscious lips. And then…” Her eyes drifted down her husband’s body as very vivid details flooded her thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Eric moved a hand between his wife’s legs and began to gently finger her. “Please, keep going. Tell me how else you’d turn me into your dream girl.”
“Oh, uh…” she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk as her husband’s skilled fingers went to work. She placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “You’re…you’re right about me swapping out your chest. It’s a really hot chest babe, but…yeah…I’d love to see what it looks like with a pair of double D’s. I’d make them so sensitive that if I just breathed on them, you’d be begging me to suck on them.”
Eric laughed. “I would, huh? Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
As her mind became consumed with lust, she thought to herself, ‘You wouldn’t have a choice. I’ll turn you into a horny slut that wants my mouth all over your new body.”
Her hand drifted down his abs, and came to his dick, which was semi hard and slippery with their combined juices. “I’d shrink this until it became a slit. A perfect little pussy that I could lick as much as I wanted, making you scream for more.”
“Is that all?” Eric asked, knowing his wife was almost to the brink of climax by the way she was breathing and moving her hips in time with his fingers.
“I’d make you just a little shorter than me!” she cried out. “And I’d make you-Oh fuck! I’d make you my perverted little sex slave! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Ooh!” The powerful orgasm made her shake from head to toe.
When she was finally able to relax, Eric pulled her close and they cuddled. He whispered gently in her ear, “Are you sure you can’t do that spell on me now?”
She laughed softly. “I think I need to get the dishes put away and dinner started,” she said.
Eric said nothing for a moment, then shrugged and said a playful, “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet. With a playful swat on her butt he said, “Get to work.”
Her mouth fell open in mock surprise, but then she giggled, and went off to do the housework.
The next few days were a blur, because everytime she had a chance, Calyope was thinking about that spell. Putting eyes on it. Sounding it out. Imagining the ideal feminine shape her husband would become, and the personality she would make him have. She was becoming obsessed, and could think of little else while she did her daily chores. It certainly made them easier.
She thought a tiny bit about maybe altering Eric’s mind to not just be a sex slave, but also be willing to do some of the mundane chores that she did every day. She didn’t mind doing them for her husband. It was part of how she showed her love and devotion to him. But she did wish he’d help out around the house a little more. The vast majority of her thoughts though, were imagining the raven haired beauty he would become, and then making that goddess put her pretty mouth between her legs.
Despite her perverted obsession, it was actually her husband that mentioned using the spell again. She’d been lost in another fantasy while the dishes magically washed, dried, and put away themselves, when her husband pressed himself against her from behind.
“How’s that rune spell coming along, Calyope? Are you ready to turn me into a sexy woman yet?”
Calyope felt his rod twitch against her ass. She instinctively pushed back, wanting to feel it slide between her cheeks. Since she was only wearing an apron, she got her wish. The delightful sensation of that hard cock made her lose her magical concentration though, and a dish crashed to the floor. “Oh shoot,” she pouted, as her husband withdrew behind her. She made a motion with her finger and the dish repaired itself and sailed into the cupboard.
“Sorry,” about that,” she heard her thoughtful husband say.
“She spun around and said, “I think I’m ready.” Goodness knows she needed to be. She needed to alleviate the sexual tension that seemed to be building exponentially inside of her as she thought about turning her husband into a woman. It had felt all consuming these last few days. “I’ve been studying it every time I get a free moment, and should have all the words memorized, so I think we should, um…” she trailed off as she realized how eager she sounded.
Eric laughed. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about it a lot. Every time I look at you while you’re doing your chores, or we’re eating, or, well, after we’re done fucking, you get that faraway look in your eye that makes me think you’re thinking about transforming me into your lesbian lover.”
“Busted,” she giggled, as she looked her husband up and down, undressing him with her eyes and fantasizing about the new curves he’d soon have.
“So where do you want to do this?” he asked curiously. The way his wife was looking at him made him feel like a slab of meat being dangled in front of a hungry lion. He didn’t mind in the least.
“How about upstairs in the bedroom,” Calyope suggested excitedly. “And I’ll need to make contact with you for the spell, so why don’t you just-”
“Get naked,” Eric finished with a wide grin.
Calyope winked at him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, babe,” he said, winking back.
They raced upstairs. As soon as Eric walked in, he pulled off his shirt. Calyope found herself staring at his toned body, and for a moment, thought about scrapping the spell and just taking his male self right then and there.
He saw her gawking as he pulled off his pants and underwear. She was now staring right at his rigid cock that was pointing straight at her. He snapped his fingers and said, “My eyes are up here, love. I know you love this cock, but let’s try to focus,” he teased, then twisted his body side to side so his dick slapped against his torso.
Calyope felt like she was being hypnotized by the motion of that big beautiful cock. Drool had formed in her mouth. Drool that she could use to slobber all over his impressive man meat with her tongue. She shook her head and closed her eyes. She really did need to focus! She had her husband’s permission, and knew the spell pretty well. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, because who knew, tomorrow he might change his mind.
She stepped directly in front of him, and put the fingertips of her right hand onto his stomach. She could feel the tight muscles there. His body was lean and calloused and tough. Everything she wanted in her man. She almost pushed him down onto the bed so she could fuck him, but with an extra bit of willpower, she began a slow and steady chant. As she did, she put every thought into the woman she wanted him to become.
She pictured a slightly shorter physique than herself. One with shoulder length jet black hair, pouty lips, and a round face. This woman would have large, bouncy breasts, almost but not quite as big as her own. Her body would be a vision of seductive curves and soft skin. She would have a neatly trimmed bush, and an always wet and sensitive pussy.
Calyope’s thoughts turned from the physical to the mental. She knew this would reshape her husband’s mind, but she did not hesitate as she thought how this transformed woman would always desire to have sex with Calyope. She would find ways to seduce Calyope, and be willing to beg for the chance to get between her legs. And housework. She’d want to help with chores and making meals. But most importantly, she’d be a kinky slut, coming up with new and exciting ways to get each other off!
That last thought turned her on so much it threatened to distract her, and she stumbled over a few of the words. She looked down at her fingertips and was disheartened to see no rune had formed. She wondered if her carelessness had ruined her first attempt.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” Eric assured her, and put his hand atop hers encouragingly as she started saying the spell again.
Calyope put all her concentration into it this time. She tuned everything else out as she thought only about the words and the manifestation of her fantasy woman.
Slowly but surely, she felt the spark of magic against Eric’s skin. She looked down, and saw a glowing line etched itself from the top of her middle finger, to the other places her fingertips touched. She became excited as a perfect circle began to form, and inside that circle, a combined symbol of an arrow and a cross that represented the masculine and feminine. As Calyope finished the chant, it glowed brightly, and then faded. But the rune remained. A permanent magical brand on her husband’s stomach.
Eric’s brow furrowed, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. He looked down at himself, and asked with obvious disappointment, “Shouldn’t I be a girl now?”
“Not yet,” Calyope said, and licked her lips. “Now that the rune’s there, I should be able to turn you into a girl whenever I want. No lengthy spell, just a touch, and a one word command.”
“Well go ahead then, babe,” Eric said in his deep voice as he struck out his chest and did a superhero pose. “Let me help you make your bisexual dreams come true.”
Calyope bounced up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. Then she put her hand on the rune, and said, “Transform.”
The rune did not glow, but just remained a faint mark on his skin. “I don’t know what’s wrong? That should have worked!” she said. “Let me consult the-”
But before she could run and get the spell book, Eric took her hand again, and placed it over hers on his stomach. “Maybe I have to help show the magic that I’m willing? I am. I am willing,” he said, looking down at his stomach. “Let’s try again, at the same time. Ready?”
Calyope nodded and said, “Okay. On the count of three, let’s both of us say it. One, two, three…”
Simultaneously, husband and wife both said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed bright on Eric’s stomach.
“I think something’s happening!” Eric said excitedly as his skin began to ripple up and down his body.
“It sure is,” Calyope exclaimed. She stepped back from her husband, and watched with wide eyed fascination as he shrank from his 6 foot 2 self, to about 5 foot 9. This was apparent to Calyope, because it was still an inch taller than her own self. That wasn’t quite to her specifications, but it could be amended at a later time.
Eric’s brown hair darkened until it was jet black, then ran down to his shoulders like a waterfall cascading down from his head. His lips became fuller, his face rounder and softer. His broad chest shifted, narrowing first and becoming slimmer. Then his right pectoral began to protrude. It blossomed into a round jiggly boob.
This caused Eric to chuckle as he reached his hand up to it and gave it a squeeze. He looked at his wife, and saw how much she was enjoying the show. He blew her a kiss, right before a left boob popped out before Calyope’s eyes.
He suddenly shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his crotch. Calyope followed his gaze, and saw his erect penis shrink rapidly into his body, leaving only a slit with a tuft of dark curly hair barely covering it.
“Oh wow, that transformation process feels good!” Eric gasped in a high pitched voice as his smaller hand dipped down to his new pussy.
Calyope was glad that her husband wasn’t mourning the loss of his favorite member. She assumed this was part of the spell, helping him embrace the changes by spiking his lust. She remembered that soon he should be up for anything if the spell did its job.
“Oh!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. “Something else is getting bigger!” He gave a slow turn so his wife could see his hips widen, and his ass expand into a round plump butt that had Calyope drooling. He gave it a shake, and giggled as it clapped. “Certainly a lot more exciting than my flat ass, wouldn’t you say, babe?”
Calyope took a step towards him, as if entranced by the wobble of his new sexy butt.
Eric giggled again and said, “I take it you like what you see?”
“I really do,” Calyope said sincerely as Eric finished a slow spin. She saw that the rune on his stomach had faded into a faint, black outline, a reminder that she’d be able to turn him back to her masculine husband whenever she wanted. But right now, she wanted, no, NEEDED to touch every inch of his feminine skin with her fingertips. And then her tongue.
“This spell is incredible,” she whispered as she put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You look nothing like your original self, Eric! I wouldn’t even know you were my husband if I hadn’t seen you transform before my very eyes.”
When Eric responded, his new high girly voice was silky and seductive. “As long as I look like this, Cal, why don’t you call me Erica.”
“Yeah,” Calyope said, bringing her face closer and closer to her husband’s pouty lips. “Erica.”
And then they were kissing. It was not the kissing of two people that have never kissed each other before. Nor the kind that expresses comfortable familiarity. No. This was rather like the kind where two people have been desperate for each other in the worst way and are finally allowed to express their pent up feelings physically.
Hands groped greedily. Lips migrated from lips to necks to shoulders to breasts. They each attacked each other’s bodies like this would be their only opportunity. What made Calyope so infinitely happy, other than Erica’s sweet moans, was that it wouldn’t be. She could live out her lesbian fantasy a million times over, all because of how wonderfully willing her husband was.
“You want to lick this pink pussy of mine, right?” Erica suddenly asked, interrupting Calyope’s thoughts.
“I do!” she squealed. Erica smiled wantonly and laid back on the bed. The raven haired beauty parted her legs, and moved her fingers in a downward V to spread her lips open. Calyope saw her folds were already glistening with desire. Calyope got on her knees and bent low. She began by kissing up Erica’s inner thigh, letting the passion between them escalate. Then her lips were kissing a pussy that had been molded and shaped just for her. She extended her tongue, and tasted a divine salty tartness that was instantly addictive.
Calyope giggled into her lover as Erica began to moan and squirm. She popped her head up and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great!” Erica replied, and then put her hand on top of Calyope’s head. “But don’t stop!”
Calyope squealed happily as her mouth was shoved back into Erica’s dripping cunt.
For the first time that Calyope could remember, her husband came before she did. Turns out all he needed for that to happen, was a clit. Even after Erica squirted in her face, Calyope found she didn’t want to stop licking. “You taste so good baby! And I gotta say, I think I prefer my face coated with your pussy juice than your cum.”
Erica giggled. “Thank you? I think? You really do have an amazing tongue by the way.”
“Do you wanna try yours out?” Calyope asked as she dropped next to her.
Erica pushed herself up and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Caloype was keenly aware of the lack of stubble as Erica’s face brushed against her inner thighs. There was only soft, smooth skin. And then a tongue. It was smaller than Eric’s, but there was a sensuality about it that made Calyope arch her back as it began to lick up and down her folds. “You’re my girlfriend!” she moaned.
A soft laugh reverberated between Calyope’s legs, and then her perfect woman looked up and said, “No, I’m your wife.”
A thrill of delight went through Calyope’s whole body, and Erica didn’t stop until she’d given Calyope everything she’d been hoping for.
The session lasted a very long time, and by the end, they were a sweaty, happy mess. The last thing Calyope thought before she drifted off to sleep was how different it was with a woman. It wasn’t a sprint, but a marathon.
The next several days whizzed by for Calyope. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of sex, and she loved it. The second Eric got home Calyope would turn him into Erica, and they’d make each other climax several times, and then a very tired Calyope would finish her chores while Erica basked in the afterglow. After dinner, Erica would change back to Eric, and fill Calyope’s pussy with strong, powerful thrusts. It was a very good routine, and it might have lasted a good deal longer, had Calyope not made an important discovery.
It happened a month after Erica had been introduced into their lives. Calyope had decided to get up early and shower with her ‘wife.’ She’d showered with Eric many times, but never in the morning before he left for work, because she hated getting up early. She LOVED sleep. She often felt like she could sleep the whole day away. In so many ways, her day really didn’t begin until her husband got back home. That was why she always felt behind on chores, because she so often didn’t start them until Eric got back home.
But she’d been thinking about showering with Erica. She wanted to soap up those beautiful curves. To let her fingers glide over those most intimate of areas while making them smell sweet and fragrant. She’d climaxed last night while thinking about it, while her husband had been inside of her. It was something naughty she often liked to do. To think about the ‘other lover’ that wasn’t there with her while she came.
The opportunity finally arrived when Eric’s alarm actually woke up her that one morning. He was still Erica. Calyope realized she’d forgotten to change Erica back to Eric last night, but Calyope did love the sight of her wife sitting up in bed and stretching. It was a fantastic view. She wanted to pull the busty vixen back down into the bed and begin kissing and licking her all over that curvy figure. But she knew time was of the essence. “I want to shower with you,” she said, placing a hand lovingly on the small of Erica’s back.
Erica yelped at Calyope’s voice, and looked back at her in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to see her in their bed. “Oh, shit. Uh, sorry Cal..yope. I totally forgot to, um…”
“It’s okay, I’m up!” she beamed. “I’ll go heat up the water.” She looked back at Erica from the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna transform you back yet until AFTER the shower,” she giggled.
Erica watched Calyope’s cute butt all the way down the hall to their bathroom. She bit her lower lip and said, “Well, I guess a quick shower won’t hurt.”
She heard the sound of water running. And then a scream.
Erica leapt off the bed and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the doorframe, she cried, “What? What’s the matter? You see a mouse?”
Calyope was still facing the shower. But her head was turned towards the mirror, and her eyes were laser focused on something there. She pointed a shaky hand towards her reflection. She didn’t understand why she had one too. It was smaller, but it was there. On her left butt cheek, was a circular rune with the symbol for masculine and feminine.
“I don’t remember putting a copy of the rune on myself,” she whispered.
Erica sighed and folded her arms. “That’s cause you didn’t put it there, sweetie. I did.”
Calyope finally looked away from the mirror, and turned to face Erica. She was so confused. “But…how could you? You can’t do magic?”
Erica gave her a pitying look and said gently. “No, dear. You’re the one that can’t do magic.” WIth a sudden flick of her wrist, a toothbrush sailed into the air and Erica deftly caught it.
Calyope stared at it in disbelief, not just at the magic on display from her husband/wife, but because the toothbrush…looked like a woman’s toothbrush. She looked at the other toothbrush next to the sink. It was a man’s toothbrush. And a chill went down Calyope’s spine, as she could never remember brushing her teeth. Like, ever.
She began taking panicked, shallow breaths. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she gasped. She flicked her wrist at the other toothbrush. It did not move. Not even a little. “N-no. No I use magic all the ti-WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER EVER DOING CERTAIN THINGS LIKE BRUSHING MY TEETH?!”
Erica held up her hands soothingly and said, “Darling, relax. Let me just…let me talk to my husband, and we’ll straighten this all-”
Calyope’s hands shot down to her sides and clenched into fists as she shrieked, “Your husband?!”
Erica grimaced. “Yeah, this was…well it was his idea. And he’s…inside of you.”
This revelation stunned Calyope to her very core, which gave Erica the time she needed to step forward and hug her. Then she placed a hand on Calyope’s right buttcheek, and said, “Transform.”
_______________________________________________________
Three months ago.
“So, do you know like, transformation magic?” Calvin asked as they laid in bed after another passionate night unbridled lovemaking.
Erica giggled and hit her husband on the arm. “You sick of my body already?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just like…I’m wondering if you could transform me? I know you also like girls, and I know that you gave that up that part of you when we got married. But…what if you didn’t have to. What if you could transform me into your ‘wife’ sometimes?”
Erica squeezed her man. “And then I transform into a handsome guy with muscular pecs and come home from work and give you the business?”
“Oh…” Calvin uttered curiously. “I mean…I hadn’t thought of that, but…”
“You’d let me fuck you with a dick?” Erica said, mouth opened in a wide grin.
“No! I mean…maybe.”
“No lie, dear, that actually sounds kinda hot.”
“Wait, wait. I’m not sure I’d want to be able to remember something like that. Is there like, memory magic you could use as well?”
Erica licked her lips, then said, “I actually may know of a spell that is exactly what we’re looking for babe. Just remember, this was all your idea.”
_____________________________________________________
Present Day
The panic left Calvin’s body as he returned to his original self. The weight from his former boobs was distributed mainly to his belly. He was not the ripped male version that his wife became, but a rather ordinary looking guy. The memories began to rush in from his time as Caloyope.
“You didn’t change me back last night,” he said.
“I know, I know,” Erica said, letting him go. She stepped past him and turned off the shower. “We let this go on too long, Cal. She’s become like, a whole different person.”
That had been Cal’s decision too. To be transformed into Calyope more and more throughout the week. Erica didn’t complain, because Cal was an amazing lover as a woman, plus he didn’t mind that his wife had instilled within him a desire to take care of the house, because he felt a disconnect to it. It was helping her, helping him, and they’d been fucking like rabbits in different gender combinations. There had seemed to be no downside. Until now. Calyope had become aware of the transformation rune, and that had led to her feeling like she wasn’t a whole person. And in a way, maybe she wasn’t. She only appeared when they wanted her to. She didn’t get to remember anything beyond those few hours she was allowed to exist. Cal could remember, but not her.
“This is my fault,” Erica said. “I should have paid attention to the precautions. I can have the rune removed.”
Cal’s face fell. “No. No please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Calyope means so much to you. So much to me.”
Erica hugged her husband. She was glad he felt this way. Calyope really had become a part of their family. “Give me some time to think. Maybe…maybe there’s something we can do, but I’ll need to research some spell books.”
They held each other, and finally parted ways. Cal going to work. Erica doing the same. She worked at an apothecary, one that had many magical recipes and spellbooks, which she would dive into today, looking for an answer to the mess they’d made.
A week later, the husband and wife reconvened in the bathroom again. They were both naked as if they were about to shower, but Calvin was just watching his wife use her finger to make a large circle over the mirror. Then she took out a sharp stone and began scratching the surface, carving small symbols into it. When it was done, she placed her hand upon it, and said a lengthy spell she’d been memorizing for the last few days. The mirror glowed, and then looked like a regular mirror again, except it didn’t reflect as it once had. It still showed Erica, but as Calvin looked at it, he saw Calyope. But her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be asleep.
“Okay,” Erica said, assessing the small bathroom. “It’s time. Stand right where she was when she got transformed last time. Let’s try to make this as comfortable for her as possible.”
Calvin put his back to the shower, and Erica put her arms around him. “I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Erica put a hand on her husband’s fuzzy butt, and said, “Transform.”
A few seconds later, Calyope sucked in a huge breath. Her ‘wife’s’ arms were still around as they had been when she felt herself blank out. She fought the urge to panic. “Let me go,” she said firmly.
Erica did, but then quickly said, “Calyope, we both owe you an apology.”
“Was any of it real?!” she demanded.
Erica hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was very real, Calyope. But what we did to you wasn’t right. But we think we’ve-”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we?’” Calyope spat. She was so mad, but not just at Erica. She was also mad at herself, because even now the sight of Erica was turning her on. She wanted to kiss her soft lips, and get her mouth between her legs and taste her. She now assumed that this desire was also a part of that rune.
Erica noted the woman’s mixed emotions, but instead of commenting on them, she pointed to the mirror and said quietly, “Calyope, meet your other half, Calvin.”
Calyope looked from Erica to the mirror, expecting to see her and Erica reflected in its surface. But she was mistaken. There was Erica, yes, but instead of Calyope, there was a man where she should be. A man that, in certain aspects, vaguely resembled Calyope herself. Same sandy brown hair color. Same chin. Same eyes.
“Nice to meet you officially,” the reflection of Cal suddenly said, which caused Calyope to jump. The man put his palms out in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, sorry, don’t be scared. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you, cause, well, I am you. Erica magicked up this mirror especially for us, so we could talk. It’s very important that you know, Calyope, that you’ve made Erica so happy these last few months.”
“It’s true,” Erica said.
Calyope frowned and looked towards Erica. “I haven’t known you for months,” she countered. “I’ve only known Eric. You know, the person I thought was my husband.”
“Would having him here with you make you more comfortable?” Erica interjected.
Calyope met the woman’s eyes, and nodded sadly. “Yeah. It’d help.” Eric had been her rock. The person she’d do absolutely anything for. She knew this was also probably part of the spell, but just the thought of seeing him calmed her a little.
Erica put a hand to her own overlaid rune and said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed, and Erica’s soft supple form grew taller and became muscular. Her smooth belly gained those chiseled abs that made Calyope go weak in the knees. And suddenly there was his handsome face, looking at her in concern. She threw herself into his strong arms, and he held her tight and patted her head.
“There, there, it’s okay, dear,” he said.
For a few precious seconds, Calyope allowed herself to melt into him. “Do you remember being her?” she finally asked her husband.
He gave her a pitying look. “Um, yes, but…”
“That’s not fair that you get to!” she protested. Then she turned on her male counterpart in the mirror. “Do you remember being me?”
“Also yes,” Calvin admitted. “But for different reasons.”
Calyope looked up into her husband’s dark eyes. She found she wanted to kiss him. To grind against his body until he grew hard, picked her up, and fucked her against the bathroom wall. She tried to keep focused. “What’s he talking about? Why do you both get to remember?”
“Well,” Eric confessed. “I’m still…Erica. Even when I’m Eric, I’m still me. I used the overlaid rune to transform from female to male, but otherwise there were no changes.”
Calyope’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But…you act like a guy when you look like this.” She put a hand on his chest. Being this close to him was having quite the effect on her. If Erica’s body had made her horny, Eric’s body was having even more of an impact.
She looked at her male counterpart while her hand kept descending down to those abs she loved so much. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The magic of the rune allows me to remember everything you thought and did when I transform back,” Cal explained. “It doesn’t feel quite like I was there, but it’s certainly close enough that I feel that you’re a huge part of me.”
Calyope couldn’t stop her hand from going lower as she said, “But that’s not fair. I should be able to feel the same way. I should get to remember being married to Erica, and living your life, and all of it.”
“You’re right,” Cal said. “You’re absolutely right. And the reason Erica and I brought you back, was to tell you that she’s got a way to…” Eric gasped as Calyope’s hand touched the tip of his penis, and Cal noticed. “Um…do I need to give you guys a second?”
Calyope licked her lips as she looked down at Eric’s throbbing member. Then she looked at Cal in the mirror. “Do you remember every time I’ve gone down on my husband?” she asked coolly.
“I…do…” Cal said tentatively. “But, like I said, it’s like remembering something that happened to somebody else. And I certainly don’t dwell on it.”
“Well you’re about to see it,” Calyope said as she began sinking to her knees.
Cal looked at his wife’s Eric persona. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the body that his wife had. He looked at her and said, “Look, I’m glad this is working out, but could you take this to the other room.”
Eric shook his head and as he put a hand on top of Calyope’s. “No honey. It’s so much hotter if you’re here to watch your pretty little mouth suck my dick. You can take it so deep too!”
“Yeah, I can absolutely do without the play by play.” But he did watch as Calyope took the cock in her mouth with no hesitation. She sucked it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she began to moan and rub her clit as she did so. “Fuck, that IS hot,” he finally admitted.
“I knew you’d like to watch you little perv,” Eric groaned. “But I know my precious Calyope. THIS is what she really wants.” With that he lifted her up in his strong arms, pinned her to the wall, and impaled her pussy with his thick cock.
“Yes!” Calyope screamed. “I love you so much, Eric!”
“I love you too, Calyope!”
A moment later, Cal said, “We both do.”
Calyope came hard a minute later. When she did, she knew that her sensitive pussy was a gift from Erica. She bucked her hips and clawed at Eric’s back until he came inside her. When he put her down, she asked, “So…what now?”
Eric kissed her and said, “Now we give you what Calvin has always had. The ability to remember. You’ll remember being him the way he remembers being you.”
“What about some of the other things? Will those change too?”
“What other things?” Calvin asked.
“I’m guessing she means the desire to cook and clean for me.”
“Yeah!” Calyope pouted.
“Ooh, yeah, that was my idea,” Cal admitted.
“Or the fact that just the sight of either of your forms makes me go into heat,” Calyope added.
“Uh, I didn’t actually do that one,” Eric laughed.
“I mean, she is hot as a guy or a girl,” Cal agreed.
“Oh, you want some of this too?” Eric winked, stroking his slippery cock.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass, but thanks. I already have plenty of memories of tasting it and having that enormous thing shoved in me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Calyope suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll get to remember fucking you with a dick?!”
Eric hugged her. “Yes, you will, sweetie. But as for the other stuff…well, I’m afraid to redo the rune to make you not want to cook and clean and think you have magic, that won’t go away. Not unless I redid the rune, which…would make the version that is you, go away.”
“Well I don’t want that!” she said quickly. “And I don’t mind too much cooking and cleaning. It is how I’ve always shown you I love you.”
“Again, my idea,” Calvin said.
“Shut it, husband,” Eric snapped playfully.
“Whose idea was it to let me see the book with the overlaid rune?” Calyope asked curiously.
“Oh, that was mine!” Eric answered proudly. “After you brought up wanting to be with a woman, I knew there was a part of you that missed, well, the real me. And that was confirmed when you described me. I thought it would be fun-”
Cal coughed in the mirror.
“Sorry, WE thought it would be fun if we played this out, and…yeah, it was really hot, but we’re both sorry if we ever hurt-”
“Shh,” Calyope whispered, as she put a finger on her husband’s lips. “I’m still really horny. So, I think I’d be fine if…”
“I changed back into your ‘wife’?’” Eric suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope bit her lip. “Yes please.”
Eric swooped up his bride and looked at Cal’s reflection. “You’re gonna enjoy remembering all the kinky lesbian shit we’re about to do, dear.”
Calvin laughed and waved at them. “I know I will. Have fun you two.”
Calyope squealed as Eric ran from the bathroom and threw her onto their bed. He was Erica a moment later, and she dove between Calyope’s legs and began lapping up the cum that had just been deposited by her male self. The two were insatiable all day, and Eric made many guest appearances.
Calvin and Calyope settled into new routines where they shared their time with Erica/Eric, but also loved remembering how happy the other made their spouse.
There are certainly more hijinks to their story, like the one where Calyope got a temporary body from a gollum that Erica created. But that is another story altogether.
The end.
Author's Note
Sorry for my long absence. I hope you enjoyed this new story. The inspiration for it came from the show Severance, and I enjoyed applying the concept of playing it out with a twist with this happily married couple. If you'd like to see more of their story, let me know. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Next up though will be more Working Remotely.
Thank you to all my supporters. After I add the next chapter of Working Remotely, you'll be the ones to decide what I work on next.
Calyope was a novice witch. A witch that had recently had a whirlwind romance and married a man who was everything she’d ever wanted. Almost. Despite loving Eric’s masculine body, there were times she found herself wanting something different in bed. She really did enjoy the feel of her husband’s hard cock sliding between her legs. The way he held her down with his powerful body and the long moan he’d make as he erupted inside of her.
She loved it. She really did. And it should have been enough. Except…Calyope was bisexual. And even though she loved her husband’s cock and the feel of his abs and the way he fucked her with such intensity, she found herself missing the touch of a woman. There was just something about the feeling of running her fingers across gentle curves. The inhale of sweet perfume on impossibly soft breasts. The vibrant feminine moans that escaped as she used her tongue to taste a deliciously wet pussy. The feeling of her soft curves. The sweet smells. The taste of pussy on her tongue.
When Calyope chose to marry Eric, she thought she’d given up on those desires. It had been easy at first. Her high sex drive helped her go out of her way to seduce him the moment he got home from work. She would devour him, enticing him to make love in any and every position he wanted. She was his completely. So why was she still having all these fantasies about being in bed with a woman?! And it was only getting worse. The more she thought about what she’d left behind, the more she craved it. This made her feel guilty, because she had a good thing with Eric. He loved her. Had accepted her being a witch with no issues at all. And he worked so hard to help provide for their home. He had too, since he didn’t have an ounce of magical ability himself.
She told herself it was enough and that she should just move forward with her husband and his hot body. And she might have, until an old book of spells suddenly appeared on her doorstep one day. She was very curious who had dropped it off. She thought about doing a trace spell, but forgot the incantation and would have to look it up. But she got distracted from further investigation as she opened the pages. It contained a lot of advanced magic, some that might take years to master. She was about to put it aside, when she came across an intricate rune called ‘Overlaid’ that contained elements of mind control and physical transformation.
Her heart quickened its pace as she read further. To place the rune, a complicated spell must be uttered while placing hands on a person who was willing to be transformed. While chanting, the caster must envision the new shape they want the subject to take, as well as their state of mind. If done properly, a rune would be created on the person that when activated, would overlay their mind and body with a completely new persona.
It could completely alter their mind, giving them the thoughts, feelings and desires implanted by the caster, while also changing their shape, even their gender. Calyope’s heart began to beat faster as she reread the part about changing gender. It was exactly the kind of spell she was looking for that would allow her to have her cake, and be able to fuck it too.
There were two problems though. This was a very risky spell that used borderline dark magic to temporarily alter a person’s thoughts and appearance. But it also required a willing subject. It was one thing to roleplay in the bedroom. This was on another level entirely. Her husband would have to trust her so much!
Had they even been married long enough for her to ask such a thing of Eric? He’d always been so accepting of her, and had thus far been willing to do whatever she wanted to do in the bedroom. If she asked him in just the right way, perhaps with her legs wrapped around him, he’d consent to this wild idea. She grew wet as she thought of asking him for this erotic favor while his big cock was buried in her pussy.
She looked up from the book, suddenly wondering where Eric was. She wanted to fuck him right now! Why was he at work so much of the time?!
The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her jump in her seat. Then she heard her husband’s deep sexy voice ask, “Whatchya reading there?”
Calyope suddenly felt very embarrassed, and turned bright red. They were married. She could talk to him about anything. But this was so kinky, so perverted, and she wasn’t sure he was really ready for that conversation. So she lied. “N-nothing you’d be interested in?”
“Oh, well now I have to see!” Eric said, and he lunged for his wife.
Calyoped giggled and shoved the book out of his reach as he landed on top of her. They mock wrestled and clung to each other for several seconds. But then his hands were squeezing her boobs and she was pulling his shirt over his head between needy kisses. “I need you inside me,” she begged.
Eric smirked as he removed his underwear. “Don’t you always.”
It was true. She’d never been disinterested in sex with Eric. Sex with her man was always on the table. Would she still feel that way if he had different parts? If he exchanged his chiseled pecs for a pair of bouncy double D’s, or his hard throbbing cock for a wet and warm pussy?
The thought of it made her grasp his dick and stroke it while she looked up at him and begged. “Please! Shove it in. Right now!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. Then he tenderly lay her down on the floor, and pushed into her.
“Fuck!” she howled, loving the initial moment of penetration. “Yeah. Give it to me hard baby! Just the way I like it!”
Thoughts of telling him about the transformation rune vanished from her mind. All she could think of was how good his cock felt. Her brain grew wonderfully fuzzy with each thrust, and all she could think to do was wrap her legs around his torso and to pull him deeper.
She came before he did. She always did.
As Eric watched her scream in ecstasy, he said, “Oh fuck! That’ll do it!” He grunted and moaned as he shot inside his wife.
He rolled off and lay beside her on their living room floor, both panting from the sudden but wonderful exertion.
“Not complaining, but what brought that on?” Eric finally asked.
“Um…well, uh, I found a new spell…” Calyope said shyly.
‘Oh yeah?” Eric said bemused. “What kind of spell?”
Calyope decided to just rip the bandaid. She shut her eyes tight and said, “It lets you transform a person!”
Eric laughed. “Want me to have an even bigger dick, is that it?”
“No!” Calyope clarified quickly. “Your dick is perfect!” And she really meant it. She loved his cock the way it was. It fit her perfectly. Stretched her out in all the right ways, like it was made for her. But, if Eric were also a woman, they’d just be getting STARTED with their lovemaking. “This would be transforming you…in other ways. I’d really be swapping out your dick with…something else…” She clenched her fists and sucked in a breath. She was so nervous about telling him, but it was right there.
After a moment of confused silence, Eric asked, “Swap it out for what?”
“Well…You know how I also like girls, right?”
“I am aware,” Eric said, wisely choking down a laugh as he realized how hard this was for his wife to say.
“This spell would let me change you into a woman.”
“A woman?!” Eric repeated with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Not permanently or anything! Just like, it puts a magical rune on your skin, like a tattoo. And whenever I activate the rune, I could turn you into a girl, and back again, whenever I, er, WE, wanted to.” There was more to it, but she decided to leave out the fact that it also altered the mind. “The spell says the subject must be willing to have it placed on you. So, you’d have to give me consent, and I completely understand if you need time to think about it, and I’ll still love you if you say no so don’t think that you have to-”
“I’m down,” he said, cutting her off with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope’s breath caught as her husband just casually agreed to let her fuse a rune to his skin that would allow her to radically change him! She again thought about letting him know that she’d be able to change his thoughts and personality, but didn’t want to give him any reason to change his mind. She told herself he wouldn’t care, because he’d so quickly agreed. He wanted to make her happy. And during the times he was a girl, she’d definitely go out of her way to make him happy as well.
Eric interrupted her by asking, “So, do you want to do this now or…”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. It was amazing enough that he was willing to do it, but even sweeter that he was willing to do it immediately. She reached out to play with his short dark hair. “That’s incredibly sweet, but no, not now.”
She noticed his expression change to one of disappointment, so she hastened to explain, “I’ll need time to read over the spell. It’s a long and tricky one and I don’t want to botch it. Plus, I’ll want to think of the type of…um…,” she felt her cheeks turning pink again. “...body I’d like you to have as a girl.”
Eric grinned. “Oh yeah? You got certain attributes in mind?” He looked down at his impressive chest and abs. “Thinking of turning my pecs into some nice round melons you can suck on? Boy, that’d be so weird, but like, yeah, it’d be cool to have your mouth there on a couple of big titties.”
That kind of talk really got Calyope’s motor running. She didn’t admit that was the first thing she’d thought about, but instead picked a more aesthetic detail. “Well, I mean, I love your hair color, but I’d just make it a little longer. Like shoulder length, and straight. I’d round out your face a bit, making it more feminine. Ooh, I’d give you full, luscious lips. And then…” Her eyes drifted down her husband’s body as very vivid details flooded her thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Eric moved a hand between his wife’s legs and began to gently finger her. “Please, keep going. Tell me how else you’d turn me into your dream girl.”
“Oh, uh…” she gasped, suddenly finding it hard to talk as her husband’s skilled fingers went to work. She placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “You’re…you’re right about me swapping out your chest. It’s a really hot chest babe, but…yeah…I’d love to see what it looks like with a pair of double D’s. I’d make them so sensitive that if I just breathed on them, you’d be begging me to suck on them.”
Eric laughed. “I would, huh? Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
As her mind became consumed with lust, she thought to herself, ‘You wouldn’t have a choice. I’ll turn you into a horny slut that wants my mouth all over your new body.”
Her hand drifted down his abs, and came to his dick, which was semi hard and slippery with their combined juices. “I’d shrink this until it became a slit. A perfect little pussy that I could lick as much as I wanted, making you scream for more.”
“Is that all?” Eric asked, knowing his wife was almost to the brink of climax by the way she was breathing and moving her hips in time with his fingers.
“I’d make you just a little shorter than me!” she cried out. “And I’d make you-Oh fuck! I’d make you my perverted little sex slave! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Ooh!” The powerful orgasm made her shake from head to toe.
When she was finally able to relax, Eric pulled her close and they cuddled. He whispered gently in her ear, “Are you sure you can’t do that spell on me now?”
She laughed softly. “I think I need to get the dishes put away and dinner started,” she said.
Eric said nothing for a moment, then shrugged and said a playful, “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet. With a playful swat on her butt he said, “Get to work.”
Her mouth fell open in mock surprise, but then she giggled, and went off to do the housework.
The next few days were a blur, because everytime she had a chance, Calyope was thinking about that spell. Putting eyes on it. Sounding it out. Imagining the ideal feminine shape her husband would become, and the personality she would make him have. She was becoming obsessed, and could think of little else while she did her daily chores. It certainly made them easier.
She thought a tiny bit about maybe altering Eric’s mind to not just be a sex slave, but also be willing to do some of the mundane chores that she did every day. She didn’t mind doing them for her husband. It was part of how she showed her love and devotion to him. But she did wish he’d help out around the house a little more. The vast majority of her thoughts though, were imagining the raven haired beauty he would become, and then making that goddess put her pretty mouth between her legs.
Despite her perverted obsession, it was actually her husband that mentioned using the spell again. She’d been lost in another fantasy while the dishes magically washed, dried, and put away themselves, when her husband pressed himself against her from behind.
“How’s that rune spell coming along, Calyope? Are you ready to turn me into a sexy woman yet?”
Calyope felt his rod twitch against her ass. She instinctively pushed back, wanting to feel it slide between her cheeks. Since she was only wearing an apron, she got her wish. The delightful sensation of that hard cock made her lose her magical concentration though, and a dish crashed to the floor. “Oh shoot,” she pouted, as her husband withdrew behind her. She made a motion with her finger and the dish repaired itself and sailed into the cupboard.
“Sorry,” about that,” she heard her thoughtful husband say.
“She spun around and said, “I think I’m ready.” Goodness knows she needed to be. She needed to alleviate the sexual tension that seemed to be building exponentially inside of her as she thought about turning her husband into a woman. It had felt all consuming these last few days. “I’ve been studying it every time I get a free moment, and should have all the words memorized, so I think we should, um…” she trailed off as she realized how eager she sounded.
Eric laughed. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about it a lot. Every time I look at you while you’re doing your chores, or we’re eating, or, well, after we’re done fucking, you get that faraway look in your eye that makes me think you’re thinking about transforming me into your lesbian lover.”
“Busted,” she giggled, as she looked her husband up and down, undressing him with her eyes and fantasizing about the new curves he’d soon have.
“So where do you want to do this?” he asked curiously. The way his wife was looking at him made him feel like a slab of meat being dangled in front of a hungry lion. He didn’t mind in the least.
“How about upstairs in the bedroom,” Calyope suggested excitedly. “And I’ll need to make contact with you for the spell, so why don’t you just-”
“Get naked,” Eric finished with a wide grin.
Calyope winked at him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, babe,” he said, winking back.
They raced upstairs. As soon as Eric walked in, he pulled off his shirt. Calyope found herself staring at his toned body, and for a moment, thought about scrapping the spell and just taking his male self right then and there.
He saw her gawking as he pulled off his pants and underwear. She was now staring right at his rigid cock that was pointing straight at her. He snapped his fingers and said, “My eyes are up here, love. I know you love this cock, but let’s try to focus,” he teased, then twisted his body side to side so his dick slapped against his torso.
Calyope felt like she was being hypnotized by the motion of that big beautiful cock. Drool had formed in her mouth. Drool that she could use to slobber all over his impressive man meat with her tongue. She shook her head and closed her eyes. She really did need to focus! She had her husband’s permission, and knew the spell pretty well. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, because who knew, tomorrow he might change his mind.
She stepped directly in front of him, and put the fingertips of her right hand onto his stomach. She could feel the tight muscles there. His body was lean and calloused and tough. Everything she wanted in her man. She almost pushed him down onto the bed so she could fuck him, but with an extra bit of willpower, she began a slow and steady chant. As she did, she put every thought into the woman she wanted him to become.
She pictured a slightly shorter physique than herself. One with shoulder length jet black hair, pouty lips, and a round face. This woman would have large, bouncy breasts, almost but not quite as big as her own. Her body would be a vision of seductive curves and soft skin. She would have a neatly trimmed bush, and an always wet and sensitive pussy.
Calyope’s thoughts turned from the physical to the mental. She knew this would reshape her husband’s mind, but she did not hesitate as she thought how this transformed woman would always desire to have sex with Calyope. She would find ways to seduce Calyope, and be willing to beg for the chance to get between her legs. And housework. She’d want to help with chores and making meals. But most importantly, she’d be a kinky slut, coming up with new and exciting ways to get each other off!
That last thought turned her on so much it threatened to distract her, and she stumbled over a few of the words. She looked down at her fingertips and was disheartened to see no rune had formed. She wondered if her carelessness had ruined her first attempt.
“It’s okay, you can do it,” Eric assured her, and put his hand atop hers encouragingly as she started saying the spell again.
Calyope put all her concentration into it this time. She tuned everything else out as she thought only about the words and the manifestation of her fantasy woman.
Slowly but surely, she felt the spark of magic against Eric’s skin. She looked down, and saw a glowing line etched itself from the top of her middle finger, to the other places her fingertips touched. She became excited as a perfect circle began to form, and inside that circle, a combined symbol of an arrow and a cross that represented the masculine and feminine. As Calyope finished the chant, it glowed brightly, and then faded. But the rune remained. A permanent magical brand on her husband’s stomach.
Eric’s brow furrowed, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. He looked down at himself, and asked with obvious disappointment, “Shouldn’t I be a girl now?”
“Not yet,” Calyope said, and licked her lips. “Now that the rune’s there, I should be able to turn you into a girl whenever I want. No lengthy spell, just a touch, and a one word command.”
“Well go ahead then, babe,” Eric said in his deep voice as he struck out his chest and did a superhero pose. “Let me help you make your bisexual dreams come true.”
Calyope bounced up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. Then she put her hand on the rune, and said, “Transform.”
The rune did not glow, but just remained a faint mark on his skin. “I don’t know what’s wrong? That should have worked!” she said. “Let me consult the-”
But before she could run and get the spell book, Eric took her hand again, and placed it over hers on his stomach. “Maybe I have to help show the magic that I’m willing? I am. I am willing,” he said, looking down at his stomach. “Let’s try again, at the same time. Ready?”
Calyope nodded and said, “Okay. On the count of three, let’s both of us say it. One, two, three…”
Simultaneously, husband and wife both said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed bright on Eric’s stomach.
“I think something’s happening!” Eric said excitedly as his skin began to ripple up and down his body.
“It sure is,” Calyope exclaimed. She stepped back from her husband, and watched with wide eyed fascination as he shrank from his 6 foot 2 self, to about 5 foot 9. This was apparent to Calyope, because it was still an inch taller than her own self. That wasn’t quite to her specifications, but it could be amended at a later time.
Eric’s brown hair darkened until it was jet black, then ran down to his shoulders like a waterfall cascading down from his head. His lips became fuller, his face rounder and softer. His broad chest shifted, narrowing first and becoming slimmer. Then his right pectoral began to protrude. It blossomed into a round jiggly boob.
This caused Eric to chuckle as he reached his hand up to it and gave it a squeeze. He looked at his wife, and saw how much she was enjoying the show. He blew her a kiss, right before a left boob popped out before Calyope’s eyes.
He suddenly shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his crotch. Calyope followed his gaze, and saw his erect penis shrink rapidly into his body, leaving only a slit with a tuft of dark curly hair barely covering it.
“Oh wow, that transformation process feels good!” Eric gasped in a high pitched voice as his smaller hand dipped down to his new pussy.
Calyope was glad that her husband wasn’t mourning the loss of his favorite member. She assumed this was part of the spell, helping him embrace the changes by spiking his lust. She remembered that soon he should be up for anything if the spell did its job.
“Oh!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. “Something else is getting bigger!” He gave a slow turn so his wife could see his hips widen, and his ass expand into a round plump butt that had Calyope drooling. He gave it a shake, and giggled as it clapped. “Certainly a lot more exciting than my flat ass, wouldn’t you say, babe?”
Calyope took a step towards him, as if entranced by the wobble of his new sexy butt.
Eric giggled again and said, “I take it you like what you see?”
“I really do,” Calyope said sincerely as Eric finished a slow spin. She saw that the rune on his stomach had faded into a faint, black outline, a reminder that she’d be able to turn him back to her masculine husband whenever she wanted. But right now, she wanted, no, NEEDED to touch every inch of his feminine skin with her fingertips. And then her tongue.
“This spell is incredible,” she whispered as she put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You look nothing like your original self, Eric! I wouldn’t even know you were my husband if I hadn’t seen you transform before my very eyes.”
When Eric responded, his new high girly voice was silky and seductive. “As long as I look like this, Cal, why don’t you call me Erica.”
“Yeah,” Calyope said, bringing her face closer and closer to her husband’s pouty lips. “Erica.”
And then they were kissing. It was not the kissing of two people that have never kissed each other before. Nor the kind that expresses comfortable familiarity. No. This was rather like the kind where two people have been desperate for each other in the worst way and are finally allowed to express their pent up feelings physically.
Hands groped greedily. Lips migrated from lips to necks to shoulders to breasts. They each attacked each other’s bodies like this would be their only opportunity. What made Calyope so infinitely happy, other than Erica’s sweet moans, was that it wouldn’t be. She could live out her lesbian fantasy a million times over, all because of how wonderfully willing her husband was.
“You want to lick this pink pussy of mine, right?” Erica suddenly asked, interrupting Calyope’s thoughts.
“I do!” she squealed. Erica smiled wantonly and laid back on the bed. The raven haired beauty parted her legs, and moved her fingers in a downward V to spread her lips open. Calyope saw her folds were already glistening with desire. Calyope got on her knees and bent low. She began by kissing up Erica’s inner thigh, letting the passion between them escalate. Then her lips were kissing a pussy that had been molded and shaped just for her. She extended her tongue, and tasted a divine salty tartness that was instantly addictive.
Calyope giggled into her lover as Erica began to moan and squirm. She popped her head up and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great!” Erica replied, and then put her hand on top of Calyope’s head. “But don’t stop!”
Calyope squealed happily as her mouth was shoved back into Erica’s dripping cunt.
For the first time that Calyope could remember, her husband came before she did. Turns out all he needed for that to happen, was a clit. Even after Erica squirted in her face, Calyope found she didn’t want to stop licking. “You taste so good baby! And I gotta say, I think I prefer my face coated with your pussy juice than your cum.”
Erica giggled. “Thank you? I think? You really do have an amazing tongue by the way.”
“Do you wanna try yours out?” Calyope asked as she dropped next to her.
Erica pushed herself up and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Caloype was keenly aware of the lack of stubble as Erica’s face brushed against her inner thighs. There was only soft, smooth skin. And then a tongue. It was smaller than Eric’s, but there was a sensuality about it that made Calyope arch her back as it began to lick up and down her folds. “You’re my girlfriend!” she moaned.
A soft laugh reverberated between Calyope’s legs, and then her perfect woman looked up and said, “No, I’m your wife.”
A thrill of delight went through Calyope’s whole body, and Erica didn’t stop until she’d given Calyope everything she’d been hoping for.
The session lasted a very long time, and by the end, they were a sweaty, happy mess. The last thing Calyope thought before she drifted off to sleep was how different it was with a woman. It wasn’t a sprint, but a marathon.
The next several days whizzed by for Calyope. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of sex, and she loved it. The second Eric got home Calyope would turn him into Erica, and they’d make each other climax several times, and then a very tired Calyope would finish her chores while Erica basked in the afterglow. After dinner, Erica would change back to Eric, and fill Calyope’s pussy with strong, powerful thrusts. It was a very good routine, and it might have lasted a good deal longer, had Calyope not made an important discovery.
It happened a month after Erica had been introduced into their lives. Calyope had decided to get up early and shower with her ‘wife.’ She’d showered with Eric many times, but never in the morning before he left for work, because she hated getting up early. She LOVED sleep. She often felt like she could sleep the whole day away. In so many ways, her day really didn’t begin until her husband got back home. That was why she always felt behind on chores, because she so often didn’t start them until Eric got back home.
But she’d been thinking about showering with Erica. She wanted to soap up those beautiful curves. To let her fingers glide over those most intimate of areas while making them smell sweet and fragrant. She’d climaxed last night while thinking about it, while her husband had been inside of her. It was something naughty she often liked to do. To think about the ‘other lover’ that wasn’t there with her while she came.
The opportunity finally arrived when Eric’s alarm actually woke up her that one morning. He was still Erica. Calyope realized she’d forgotten to change Erica back to Eric last night, but Calyope did love the sight of her wife sitting up in bed and stretching. It was a fantastic view. She wanted to pull the busty vixen back down into the bed and begin kissing and licking her all over that curvy figure. But she knew time was of the essence. “I want to shower with you,” she said, placing a hand lovingly on the small of Erica’s back.
Erica yelped at Calyope’s voice, and looked back at her in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to see her in their bed. “Oh, shit. Uh, sorry Cal..yope. I totally forgot to, um…”
“It’s okay, I’m up!” she beamed. “I’ll go heat up the water.” She looked back at Erica from the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, I’m not gonna transform you back yet until AFTER the shower,” she giggled.
Erica watched Calyope’s cute butt all the way down the hall to their bathroom. She bit her lower lip and said, “Well, I guess a quick shower won’t hurt.”
She heard the sound of water running. And then a scream.
Erica leapt off the bed and sprinted down the hall. When she got to the doorframe, she cried, “What? What’s the matter? You see a mouse?”
Calyope was still facing the shower. But her head was turned towards the mirror, and her eyes were laser focused on something there. She pointed a shaky hand towards her reflection. She didn’t understand why she had one too. It was smaller, but it was there. On her left butt cheek, was a circular rune with the symbol for masculine and feminine.
“I don’t remember putting a copy of the rune on myself,” she whispered.
Erica sighed and folded her arms. “That’s cause you didn’t put it there, sweetie. I did.”
Calyope finally looked away from the mirror, and turned to face Erica. She was so confused. “But…how could you? You can’t do magic?”
Erica gave her a pitying look and said gently. “No, dear. You’re the one that can’t do magic.” WIth a sudden flick of her wrist, a toothbrush sailed into the air and Erica deftly caught it.
Calyope stared at it in disbelief, not just at the magic on display from her husband/wife, but because the toothbrush…looked like a woman’s toothbrush. She looked at the other toothbrush next to the sink. It was a man’s toothbrush. And a chill went down Calyope’s spine, as she could never remember brushing her teeth. Like, ever.
She began taking panicked, shallow breaths. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” she gasped. She flicked her wrist at the other toothbrush. It did not move. Not even a little. “N-no. No I use magic all the ti-WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER EVER DOING CERTAIN THINGS LIKE BRUSHING MY TEETH?!”
Erica held up her hands soothingly and said, “Darling, relax. Let me just…let me talk to my husband, and we’ll straighten this all-”
Calyope’s hands shot down to her sides and clenched into fists as she shrieked, “Your husband?!”
Erica grimaced. “Yeah, this was…well it was his idea. And he’s…inside of you.”
This revelation stunned Calyope to her very core, which gave Erica the time she needed to step forward and hug her. Then she placed a hand on Calyope’s right buttcheek, and said, “Transform.”
_______________________________________________________
Three months ago.
“So, do you know like, transformation magic?” Calvin asked as they laid in bed after another passionate night unbridled lovemaking.
Erica giggled and hit her husband on the arm. “You sick of my body already?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I’m just like…I’m wondering if you could transform me? I know you also like girls, and I know that you gave that up that part of you when we got married. But…what if you didn’t have to. What if you could transform me into your ‘wife’ sometimes?”
Erica squeezed her man. “And then I transform into a handsome guy with muscular pecs and come home from work and give you the business?”
“Oh…” Calvin uttered curiously. “I mean…I hadn’t thought of that, but…”
“You’d let me fuck you with a dick?” Erica said, mouth opened in a wide grin.
“No! I mean…maybe.”
“No lie, dear, that actually sounds kinda hot.”
“Wait, wait. I’m not sure I’d want to be able to remember something like that. Is there like, memory magic you could use as well?”
Erica licked her lips, then said, “I actually may know of a spell that is exactly what we’re looking for babe. Just remember, this was all your idea.”
_____________________________________________________
Present Day
The panic left Calvin’s body as he returned to his original self. The weight from his former boobs was distributed mainly to his belly. He was not the ripped male version that his wife became, but a rather ordinary looking guy. The memories began to rush in from his time as Caloyope.
“You didn’t change me back last night,” he said.
“I know, I know,” Erica said, letting him go. She stepped past him and turned off the shower. “We let this go on too long, Cal. She’s become like, a whole different person.”
That had been Cal’s decision too. To be transformed into Calyope more and more throughout the week. Erica didn’t complain, because Cal was an amazing lover as a woman, plus he didn’t mind that his wife had instilled within him a desire to take care of the house, because he felt a disconnect to it. It was helping her, helping him, and they’d been fucking like rabbits in different gender combinations. There had seemed to be no downside. Until now. Calyope had become aware of the transformation rune, and that had led to her feeling like she wasn’t a whole person. And in a way, maybe she wasn’t. She only appeared when they wanted her to. She didn’t get to remember anything beyond those few hours she was allowed to exist. Cal could remember, but not her.
“This is my fault,” Erica said. “I should have paid attention to the precautions. I can have the rune removed.”
Cal’s face fell. “No. No please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Calyope means so much to you. So much to me.”
Erica hugged her husband. She was glad he felt this way. Calyope really had become a part of their family. “Give me some time to think. Maybe…maybe there’s something we can do, but I’ll need to research some spell books.”
They held each other, and finally parted ways. Cal going to work. Erica doing the same. She worked at an apothecary, one that had many magical recipes and spellbooks, which she would dive into today, looking for an answer to the mess they’d made.
A week later, the husband and wife reconvened in the bathroom again. They were both naked as if they were about to shower, but Calvin was just watching his wife use her finger to make a large circle over the mirror. Then she took out a sharp stone and began scratching the surface, carving small symbols into it. When it was done, she placed her hand upon it, and said a lengthy spell she’d been memorizing for the last few days. The mirror glowed, and then looked like a regular mirror again, except it didn’t reflect as it once had. It still showed Erica, but as Calvin looked at it, he saw Calyope. But her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be asleep.
“Okay,” Erica said, assessing the small bathroom. “It’s time. Stand right where she was when she got transformed last time. Let’s try to make this as comfortable for her as possible.”
Calvin put his back to the shower, and Erica put her arms around him. “I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Erica put a hand on her husband’s fuzzy butt, and said, “Transform.”
A few seconds later, Calyope sucked in a huge breath. Her ‘wife’s’ arms were still around as they had been when she felt herself blank out. She fought the urge to panic. “Let me go,” she said firmly.
Erica did, but then quickly said, “Calyope, we both owe you an apology.”
“Was any of it real?!” she demanded.
Erica hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It was very real, Calyope. But what we did to you wasn’t right. But we think we’ve-”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we?’” Calyope spat. She was so mad, but not just at Erica. She was also mad at herself, because even now the sight of Erica was turning her on. She wanted to kiss her soft lips, and get her mouth between her legs and taste her. She now assumed that this desire was also a part of that rune.
Erica noted the woman’s mixed emotions, but instead of commenting on them, she pointed to the mirror and said quietly, “Calyope, meet your other half, Calvin.”
Calyope looked from Erica to the mirror, expecting to see her and Erica reflected in its surface. But she was mistaken. There was Erica, yes, but instead of Calyope, there was a man where she should be. A man that, in certain aspects, vaguely resembled Calyope herself. Same sandy brown hair color. Same chin. Same eyes.
“Nice to meet you officially,” the reflection of Cal suddenly said, which caused Calyope to jump. The man put his palms out in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, sorry, don’t be scared. The last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you, cause, well, I am you. Erica magicked up this mirror especially for us, so we could talk. It’s very important that you know, Calyope, that you’ve made Erica so happy these last few months.”
“It’s true,” Erica said.
Calyope frowned and looked towards Erica. “I haven’t known you for months,” she countered. “I’ve only known Eric. You know, the person I thought was my husband.”
“Would having him here with you make you more comfortable?” Erica interjected.
Calyope met the woman’s eyes, and nodded sadly. “Yeah. It’d help.” Eric had been her rock. The person she’d do absolutely anything for. She knew this was also probably part of the spell, but just the thought of seeing him calmed her a little.
Erica put a hand to her own overlaid rune and said, “Transform.”
The rune glowed, and Erica’s soft supple form grew taller and became muscular. Her smooth belly gained those chiseled abs that made Calyope go weak in the knees. And suddenly there was his handsome face, looking at her in concern. She threw herself into his strong arms, and he held her tight and patted her head.
“There, there, it’s okay, dear,” he said.
For a few precious seconds, Calyope allowed herself to melt into him. “Do you remember being her?” she finally asked her husband.
He gave her a pitying look. “Um, yes, but…”
“That’s not fair that you get to!” she protested. Then she turned on her male counterpart in the mirror. “Do you remember being me?”
“Also yes,” Calvin admitted. “But for different reasons.”
Calyope looked up into her husband’s dark eyes. She found she wanted to kiss him. To grind against his body until he grew hard, picked her up, and fucked her against the bathroom wall. She tried to keep focused. “What’s he talking about? Why do you both get to remember?”
“Well,” Eric confessed. “I’m still…Erica. Even when I’m Eric, I’m still me. I used the overlaid rune to transform from female to male, but otherwise there were no changes.”
Calyope’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But…you act like a guy when you look like this.” She put a hand on his chest. Being this close to him was having quite the effect on her. If Erica’s body had made her horny, Eric’s body was having even more of an impact.
She looked at her male counterpart while her hand kept descending down to those abs she loved so much. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The magic of the rune allows me to remember everything you thought and did when I transform back,” Cal explained. “It doesn’t feel quite like I was there, but it’s certainly close enough that I feel that you’re a huge part of me.”
Calyope couldn’t stop her hand from going lower as she said, “But that’s not fair. I should be able to feel the same way. I should get to remember being married to Erica, and living your life, and all of it.”
“You’re right,” Cal said. “You’re absolutely right. And the reason Erica and I brought you back, was to tell you that she’s got a way to…” Eric gasped as Calyope’s hand touched the tip of his penis, and Cal noticed. “Um…do I need to give you guys a second?”
Calyope licked her lips as she looked down at Eric’s throbbing member. Then she looked at Cal in the mirror. “Do you remember every time I’ve gone down on my husband?” she asked coolly.
“I…do…” Cal said tentatively. “But, like I said, it’s like remembering something that happened to somebody else. And I certainly don’t dwell on it.”
“Well you’re about to see it,” Calyope said as she began sinking to her knees.
Cal looked at his wife’s Eric persona. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the body that his wife had. He looked at her and said, “Look, I’m glad this is working out, but could you take this to the other room.”
Eric shook his head and as he put a hand on top of Calyope’s. “No honey. It’s so much hotter if you’re here to watch your pretty little mouth suck my dick. You can take it so deep too!”
“Yeah, I can absolutely do without the play by play.” But he did watch as Calyope took the cock in her mouth with no hesitation. She sucked it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she began to moan and rub her clit as she did so. “Fuck, that IS hot,” he finally admitted.
“I knew you’d like to watch you little perv,” Eric groaned. “But I know my precious Calyope. THIS is what she really wants.” With that he lifted her up in his strong arms, pinned her to the wall, and impaled her pussy with his thick cock.
“Yes!” Calyope screamed. “I love you so much, Eric!”
“I love you too, Calyope!”
A moment later, Cal said, “We both do.”
Calyope came hard a minute later. When she did, she knew that her sensitive pussy was a gift from Erica. She bucked her hips and clawed at Eric’s back until he came inside her. When he put her down, she asked, “So…what now?”
Eric kissed her and said, “Now we give you what Calvin has always had. The ability to remember. You’ll remember being him the way he remembers being you.”
“What about some of the other things? Will those change too?”
“What other things?” Calvin asked.
“I’m guessing she means the desire to cook and clean for me.”
“Yeah!” Calyope pouted.
“Ooh, yeah, that was my idea,” Cal admitted.
“Or the fact that just the sight of either of your forms makes me go into heat,” Calyope added.
“Uh, I didn’t actually do that one,” Eric laughed.
“I mean, she is hot as a guy or a girl,” Cal agreed.
“Oh, you want some of this too?” Eric winked, stroking his slippery cock.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass, but thanks. I already have plenty of memories of tasting it and having that enormous thing shoved in me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Calyope suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll get to remember fucking you with a dick?!”
Eric hugged her. “Yes, you will, sweetie. But as for the other stuff…well, I’m afraid to redo the rune to make you not want to cook and clean and think you have magic, that won’t go away. Not unless I redid the rune, which…would make the version that is you, go away.”
“Well I don’t want that!” she said quickly. “And I don’t mind too much cooking and cleaning. It is how I’ve always shown you I love you.”
“Again, my idea,” Calvin said.
“Shut it, husband,” Eric snapped playfully.
“Whose idea was it to let me see the book with the overlaid rune?” Calyope asked curiously.
“Oh, that was mine!” Eric answered proudly. “After you brought up wanting to be with a woman, I knew there was a part of you that missed, well, the real me. And that was confirmed when you described me. I thought it would be fun-”
Cal coughed in the mirror.
“Sorry, WE thought it would be fun if we played this out, and…yeah, it was really hot, but we’re both sorry if we ever hurt-”
“Shh,” Calyope whispered, as she put a finger on her husband’s lips. “I’m still really horny. So, I think I’d be fine if…”
“I changed back into your ‘wife’?’” Eric suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Calyope bit her lip. “Yes please.”
Eric swooped up his bride and looked at Cal’s reflection. “You’re gonna enjoy remembering all the kinky lesbian shit we’re about to do, dear.”
Calvin laughed and waved at them. “I know I will. Have fun you two.”
Calyope squealed as Eric ran from the bathroom and threw her onto their bed. He was Erica a moment later, and she dove between Calyope’s legs and began lapping up the cum that had just been deposited by her male self. The two were insatiable all day, and Eric made many guest appearances.
Calvin and Calyope settled into new routines where they shared their time with Erica/Eric, but also loved remembering how happy the other made their spouse.
There are certainly more hijinks to their story, like the one where Calyope got a temporary body from a gollum that Erica created. But that is another story altogether.
The end.
Author's Note
Sorry for my long absence. I hope you enjoyed this new story. The inspiration for it came from the show Severance, and I enjoyed applying the concept of playing it out with a twist with this happily married couple. If you'd like to see more of their story, let me know. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Next up though will be more Working Remotely.
Thank you to all my supporters. After I add the next chapter of Working Remotely, you'll be the ones to decide what I work on next.
You and your group of friends won a raffle that awarded you with five tickets to Spooky Island! It was the new resort island being endorsed by Sydney Sweeney, it’s gimmick was supposedly a spooky and entertaining summer experience, and since you guys were on summer break, you definitely thought it was a sign to enjoy the island.
Little did you know that the island held a dark secret. It was secretly the den of a clan of demons who steal human bodies with a relic called the Daemon Ritus. They luckily managed to steal Sydney Sweeneys body when she visited the island for a photo shoot… and now she and her fellow demons trick people into going to the island to steal their bodies. You found out about this secret and promised to help out, so long as you get some benefits…
The email notification pinged on my phone just as I was stuffing it into my backpack, and the bold subject line made my heart skip: CONGRATULATIONS! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE WON A VIP TRIP TO SPOOKY ISLAND!
"Guys, check this out!" I practically shouted, nearly knocking over Kaori’s iced coffee as I jumped up from the tiny café table. Nate, Jade, Kaori, and Trisha all turned—mid-bickering over who had to sit in the middle seat on the train later—as I shook my phone at them. "We just won an all-expenses-paid trip to Spooky Island!"
Nate snatched the phone out of my hands, scrolling with the urgency of a man about to abandon all responsibilities. "The Spooky Island? The one with the Sydney Sweeney ads where everyone is making out in slow motion?" His grin widened. "Private villas, endless drinks, adult-friendly activities—hell yes."
Trisha flicked a sugar packet at his forehead. "Or, y’know, we end up in some weird Satanic beach ritual à la Midsommar."
Jade smirked, swirling her latte. "Worth it."
Kaori tucked a strand of pink-streaked hair behind her ear and shrugged. "Sydney Sweeney wouldn’t lie. She’s got integrity."
Before Trisha could list all the ways we’d probably get kidnapped, I hit CONFIRM.
Four days later, we landed on the island, and the second the plane doors opened, the heat and the bassline hit us like a wave. The beach ahead was alive—palm trees strung with glowing lanterns, groups of glossy-skinned people tangled in hammocks, and the distant sound of someone moaning like they’d just discovered pleasure for the first time.
Nate pushed his sunglasses onto his head, his expression pure delight. "Oh, we’re definitely supposed to be naked here."
He wasn’t wrong. Down by the shoreline, a girl in nothing but body paint was twerking against a guy wearing only a very loose cowboy hat. A group of guys sprinted past, their tans suddenly very even, and two girls were locked in a kiss so aggressive they nearly toppled into the surf.
Trisha’s eyebrows shot up. "Okay, I take it back. This is exactly my brand of cult activity."
A staff member—wearing what could barely be called a bikini—bounced over, dangling neon wristbands in front of us. "Welcome to your best summer ever!" she cheered, snapping them onto our wrists. "Rules are simple: No clothes, no shame, no regrets!"
Behind her, someone shrieked as they jumped off a pier naked, cannonballing into a cheering crowd. Another couple had tequila poured straight onto their bodies, licking it off each other’s stomachs between laughter.
Jade nudged me with her elbow. "Told you we should’ve packed more than sunscreen."
Nate stretched his arms out, breathing in the salty, debauchery-filled air. "This is the kind of horror story I can get behind."
The staff member motioned for us to follow her toward the hotel, her barely-there bikini bottoms swaying hypnotically with every step. Nate and I exchanged a glance, both of us shamelessly locked onto the mesmerizing rhythm of her ass.
"Eyes up here, you two," Trisha snapped, smacking me upside the head hard enough to make my teeth click.
Kaori and Jade flanked Nate, each grabbing a handful of his cheeks—one pinching, the other twisting—until he yelped.
"Ow! Okay, okay!" Nate rubbed his face, grinning despite himself. "What? Like you weren’t looking."
Jade rolled her eyes. "We were. But we have manners."
Kaori smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. "And better poker faces."
The staff member glanced back over her shoulder, clearly aware of the chaos behind her, and winked. "Don’t worry, boys. You’ll have plenty to stare at soon enough."
Trisha groaned. "Oh, we’re doomed."
Once we arrived at the hotel we followed a new staff member—a guy this time—through the hotel’s sleek, glass-walled lobby. His fitted polo barely contained his sculpted shoulders, and the way his tan shorts clung to his thighs was downright criminal. Every step made the fabric shift in ways that had even Trisha biting her lip.
The suite was exactly like the one from the ad—plush white couches, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the ocean, and what looked like a champagne tub big enough for six. The staff member turned with a grin, dangling a keycard between his fingers. "Private beach access, 24-hour room service, anything you need." His voice dipped lower. "Just give me a call."
Jade and Kaori were not subtle about their gaze dragging from his chest down to the very noticeable bulge in his shorts. Nate nudged me, smirking.
"Eyes up," I stage-whispered, mimicking Trisha’s earlier scolding.
Trisha didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. "Oh, shut up. Like you two weren’t drooling over the last one."
The staff member chuckled, stretching his arms overhead in a way that made the hem of his polo ride up, revealing a strip of toned abs. "Enjoy your stay," he murmured, tossing the keycard onto the counter with deliberate slowness.
The second the door shut behind him, Nate muttered, "That was absolutely on purpose."
Kaori fanned herself with a menu. "And I respect the hustle."
Jade flopped onto the couch, sighing. "We should just accept that we’re all terrible people."
Trisha popped open the champagne with a satisfying pop. "No regrets, right?"
Nate stretched out on the couch with an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head toward the balcony where we could hear the distant laughter from the beach. "Alright, who's brave enough to hit the nude beach with me?"
Trisha scoffed into her champagne glass. "Oh, come on. You're literally just asking so you can see one of us naked."
Nate didn't even try to deny it, shrugging with a shameless grin. "Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? Like, look at you three." He gestured lazily between them. "Jade, you’ve got that whole goddess of temptation thing going on, Trish, you’re built like a Bond girl, and Kaori—" His smirk deepened. "Kaori’s the real mystery. Always covered up, even in swimsuits. Rash guards? Shorts? I mean, what’s under there, huh?"
Kaori almost choked on her drink, her cheeks flushing pink as she immediately broke into rapid-fire Japanese, hands gesturing wildly like she was trying to bat the words out of the air.
Trisha and Jade practically launched themselves at Nate—Trisha delivering a sharp slap to his chest while Jade went straight for his face, flicking his nose hard. "You animal," Jade hissed, though her lips were twitching with amusement.
I scooted closer to Kaori, rubbing her back while she kept murmuring in Japanese, her fingers twisting nervously in the hem of her oversized shirt. "Hey, ignore him," I said softly. "You know Nate—zero brain-to-mouth filter."
Kaori groaned, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. "Baka!"
Nate just grinned, rubbing his sore nose. "Worth."
Kaori took a deep breath, fingers finally relaxing from their death grip on her shirt. She turned to me with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Jason," she murmured, smoothing her shirt down. "But—under no circumstances am I going to that nude beach." She shot Nate a sharp glare. "And no bikinis."
Nate groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. "You're killing me, Kaori."
Jade rolled her eyes. "Oh no, how ever will you survive without seeing Kaori's forbidden skin—"
Trisha tossed a pillow at his face. "Get over it."
I clapped my hands together. "Alright, since we clearly have divergent interests, how about we split up today?" I glanced around the room. "Explore different parts of the island, report back, and make a proper itinerary for the week?"
Nate perked up immediately. "Nude beach. Calling it."
Trisha snorted. "Of course you are." She stretched her arms overhead before nodding toward the island's center. "I was eyeing that hiking trail up to the mountain. Good views, probably less..." She gestured vaguely toward the window where someone had just shrieked, "CHUG CHUG CHUG!"
Jade was already scrolling through the resort’s food map on her phone. "Buffets. All of them."
Kaori folded her arms, but her expression softened. "Surfing lessons. The clothed kind."
And me? I grinned. "The mall. Rumor has it designer brands here are practically giving stuff away."
Nate whistled. "A man of culture."
Trisha nudged me. "Better grab me something nice."
Jade perked up. "Oh! And if you see any limited-edition K-Beauty—"
Kaori smacked her lightly. "Jade."
We all laughed, the tension from earlier dissolving into easy excitement.
Nate stretched with a smug smirk. "Alright. Let the real Spooky Island adventure begin."
We all went our separate ways, with me making everyone promise to message our group chat if they spotted anything wild—or if Nate ended up mooning the entire beach (again).
The rumors about the mall were no joke. Within an hour, I had a legit Rolex wrapped around my wrist, its polished face glinting under the tropical lights. A hundred bucks. A hundred freaking bucks. I kept checking the paperwork—Spooky Island was listed as an official retailer, fine print and all—but my brain still couldn’t process it.
I was halfway to the limited-edition Jordans display when my blood froze mid-step.
Sydney. Sweeney.
Right there, strolling past the Sunglass Hut like this was any normal Tuesday. And she wasn’t alone. A guy I barely registered—tall, broad, looking equal parts confused and thrilled—was being towed along by her manicured grip, Sydney’s free hand pressing a finger to her lips in a shhh motion.
I didn’t even think. My feet moved before my brain could yell BAD IDEA. They ducked into a discreet hallway marked STAFF ONLY, and by the time I crept close enough to peek, Sydney had the guy pinned against the wall, one hand fisted in his shirt.
Sydney pressed closer, her fingers curling into the man's shirt with predatory grace. "You ever fuck someone with one of these meatsuits yet?" she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.
The guy tensed, swallowing hard. "N-no. Just took this body maybe an hour ago." He blinked twice, rolling his shoulders like the sensation of human skin was still foreign. "Still getting used to the... the equipment."
Sydney snorted, running a fingertip down his chest in a way that made him shiver. "Equipment's the same, no matter what species wears it. Just hotter and sweatier now." Her grin widened, all sharp amusement. "Guess I'm your first proper ride in this flesh, huh?"
The guy exhaled sharply, eyes darting down to where her thigh had slotted between his. "Uh. Yeah."
"Good." Sydney pressed her lips to his pulse point, humming when his nails dug into the wall behind him. "Let me show you how humans play."
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket—Nate: GUYS THE BEACH IS OFFICIALLY A NO-CLOTHES-FROM-THE-WAIST-DOWN ZONE???—but I barely registered it. Because I was too busy trying to process whatever weird-ass conversation Sydney was having with this guy.
Meatsuits? Species? What the hell did that even mean?
But then Sydney pressed her thigh between his legs, and the guy let out a sharp, desperate sound, and suddenly, the existential crisis in my brain took an immediate backseat.
Sydney hooked her fingers in the hem of her dress and yanked it up past her hips, revealing the kind of lingerie that made my blood pressure spike. The guy—who was definitely not confused anymore—lunged forward, mouth meeting hers in a kiss that looked more like a fight for dominance than anything tender.
She shoved him back against the wall, and he went willingly, groaning as her hands slid down his body like she was mapping every inch.
My brain short-circuited as Sydney rocked her hips against the guy, her nails raking down his back hard enough to leave red trails. The guy groaned against her neck, fingers digging into her waist as she rode him with ruthless precision. Every movement was pure hunger—the way she rolled her hips, the way she arched her back as he dragged his teeth along her collarbone. My cock strained against my shorts, aching, and before I could stop myself, I had my hand wrapped around it, stroking in time with Sydney’s rhythm.
She was relentless, bouncing on him with bruising force, her moans low and dark as the guy slammed into her. “Fuck me like you mean it,” she growled, gripping his hair to yank his head back. The guy gasped, his body shuddering, and judging by the way his grip tightened on her hips, he was already close.
I wasn’t far behind. Sydney’s thighs tensed, her body clenching around him as she let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, that’s it—feel it.” Then she locked onto his mouth, swallowing his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. His whole body went rigid, a choked cry tearing from his throat as he came, pulse after pulse, hands clawing at her skin as she milked him dry.
Sydney followed seconds later, her back arching violently, head thrown back—but instead of a moan, she let out a sound that sent ice through my veins. A rough, guttural snarl, inhuman and raw, like something out of a nightmare.
Holy shit. My fingers clenched, my orgasm hitting me in a wave I couldn’t stop, spurting hot and thick onto the floor between my feet.
The moment I came back to my senses, I was shoving myself back into my shorts, my pulse roaring in my ears. That sound—it wasn’t right. Whatever the hell Sydney was, she wasn’t human, and I needed to be gone.
I didn’t even bother zipping up properly before bolting for the door, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Just as my fingers brushed the handle, I heard it—Sydney’s sharp inhale.
“Cum,” she muttered, voice dripping with menace.
Dread coiled in my gut as I risked one last glance back. Sydney had dropped into a crouch, her fingers tracing through the mess I’d left behind. Her gaze flicked up—right toward the shadows where I’d been standing—and the growl that followed sent me scrambling forward.
“Someone here still owns their flesh,” she snarled. “And they saw us.”
I didn’t stick around to hear the rest.
Little did you know that the island held a dark secret. It was secretly the den of a clan of demons who steal human bodies with a relic called the Daemon Ritus. They luckily managed to steal Sydney Sweeneys body when she visited the island for a photo shoot… and now she and her fellow demons trick people into going to the island to steal their bodies. You found out about this secret and promised to help out, so long as you get some benefits…
The email notification pinged on my phone just as I was stuffing it into my backpack, and the bold subject line made my heart skip: CONGRATULATIONS! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE WON A VIP TRIP TO SPOOKY ISLAND!
"Guys, check this out!" I practically shouted, nearly knocking over Kaori’s iced coffee as I jumped up from the tiny café table. Nate, Jade, Kaori, and Trisha all turned—mid-bickering over who had to sit in the middle seat on the train later—as I shook my phone at them. "We just won an all-expenses-paid trip to Spooky Island!"
Nate snatched the phone out of my hands, scrolling with the urgency of a man about to abandon all responsibilities. "The Spooky Island? The one with the Sydney Sweeney ads where everyone is making out in slow motion?" His grin widened. "Private villas, endless drinks, adult-friendly activities—hell yes."
Trisha flicked a sugar packet at his forehead. "Or, y’know, we end up in some weird Satanic beach ritual à la Midsommar."
Jade smirked, swirling her latte. "Worth it."
Kaori tucked a strand of pink-streaked hair behind her ear and shrugged. "Sydney Sweeney wouldn’t lie. She’s got integrity."
Before Trisha could list all the ways we’d probably get kidnapped, I hit CONFIRM.
Four days later, we landed on the island, and the second the plane doors opened, the heat and the bassline hit us like a wave. The beach ahead was alive—palm trees strung with glowing lanterns, groups of glossy-skinned people tangled in hammocks, and the distant sound of someone moaning like they’d just discovered pleasure for the first time.
Nate pushed his sunglasses onto his head, his expression pure delight. "Oh, we’re definitely supposed to be naked here."
He wasn’t wrong. Down by the shoreline, a girl in nothing but body paint was twerking against a guy wearing only a very loose cowboy hat. A group of guys sprinted past, their tans suddenly very even, and two girls were locked in a kiss so aggressive they nearly toppled into the surf.
Trisha’s eyebrows shot up. "Okay, I take it back. This is exactly my brand of cult activity."
A staff member—wearing what could barely be called a bikini—bounced over, dangling neon wristbands in front of us. "Welcome to your best summer ever!" she cheered, snapping them onto our wrists. "Rules are simple: No clothes, no shame, no regrets!"
Behind her, someone shrieked as they jumped off a pier naked, cannonballing into a cheering crowd. Another couple had tequila poured straight onto their bodies, licking it off each other’s stomachs between laughter.
Jade nudged me with her elbow. "Told you we should’ve packed more than sunscreen."
Nate stretched his arms out, breathing in the salty, debauchery-filled air. "This is the kind of horror story I can get behind."
The staff member motioned for us to follow her toward the hotel, her barely-there bikini bottoms swaying hypnotically with every step. Nate and I exchanged a glance, both of us shamelessly locked onto the mesmerizing rhythm of her ass.
"Eyes up here, you two," Trisha snapped, smacking me upside the head hard enough to make my teeth click.
Kaori and Jade flanked Nate, each grabbing a handful of his cheeks—one pinching, the other twisting—until he yelped.
"Ow! Okay, okay!" Nate rubbed his face, grinning despite himself. "What? Like you weren’t looking."
Jade rolled her eyes. "We were. But we have manners."
Kaori smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. "And better poker faces."
The staff member glanced back over her shoulder, clearly aware of the chaos behind her, and winked. "Don’t worry, boys. You’ll have plenty to stare at soon enough."
Trisha groaned. "Oh, we’re doomed."
Once we arrived at the hotel we followed a new staff member—a guy this time—through the hotel’s sleek, glass-walled lobby. His fitted polo barely contained his sculpted shoulders, and the way his tan shorts clung to his thighs was downright criminal. Every step made the fabric shift in ways that had even Trisha biting her lip.
The suite was exactly like the one from the ad—plush white couches, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the ocean, and what looked like a champagne tub big enough for six. The staff member turned with a grin, dangling a keycard between his fingers. "Private beach access, 24-hour room service, anything you need." His voice dipped lower. "Just give me a call."
Jade and Kaori were not subtle about their gaze dragging from his chest down to the very noticeable bulge in his shorts. Nate nudged me, smirking.
"Eyes up," I stage-whispered, mimicking Trisha’s earlier scolding.
Trisha didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. "Oh, shut up. Like you two weren’t drooling over the last one."
The staff member chuckled, stretching his arms overhead in a way that made the hem of his polo ride up, revealing a strip of toned abs. "Enjoy your stay," he murmured, tossing the keycard onto the counter with deliberate slowness.
The second the door shut behind him, Nate muttered, "That was absolutely on purpose."
Kaori fanned herself with a menu. "And I respect the hustle."
Jade flopped onto the couch, sighing. "We should just accept that we’re all terrible people."
Trisha popped open the champagne with a satisfying pop. "No regrets, right?"
Nate stretched out on the couch with an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head toward the balcony where we could hear the distant laughter from the beach. "Alright, who's brave enough to hit the nude beach with me?"
Trisha scoffed into her champagne glass. "Oh, come on. You're literally just asking so you can see one of us naked."
Nate didn't even try to deny it, shrugging with a shameless grin. "Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? Like, look at you three." He gestured lazily between them. "Jade, you’ve got that whole goddess of temptation thing going on, Trish, you’re built like a Bond girl, and Kaori—" His smirk deepened. "Kaori’s the real mystery. Always covered up, even in swimsuits. Rash guards? Shorts? I mean, what’s under there, huh?"
Kaori almost choked on her drink, her cheeks flushing pink as she immediately broke into rapid-fire Japanese, hands gesturing wildly like she was trying to bat the words out of the air.
Trisha and Jade practically launched themselves at Nate—Trisha delivering a sharp slap to his chest while Jade went straight for his face, flicking his nose hard. "You animal," Jade hissed, though her lips were twitching with amusement.
I scooted closer to Kaori, rubbing her back while she kept murmuring in Japanese, her fingers twisting nervously in the hem of her oversized shirt. "Hey, ignore him," I said softly. "You know Nate—zero brain-to-mouth filter."
Kaori groaned, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. "Baka!"
Nate just grinned, rubbing his sore nose. "Worth."
Kaori took a deep breath, fingers finally relaxing from their death grip on her shirt. She turned to me with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Jason," she murmured, smoothing her shirt down. "But—under no circumstances am I going to that nude beach." She shot Nate a sharp glare. "And no bikinis."
Nate groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. "You're killing me, Kaori."
Jade rolled her eyes. "Oh no, how ever will you survive without seeing Kaori's forbidden skin—"
Trisha tossed a pillow at his face. "Get over it."
I clapped my hands together. "Alright, since we clearly have divergent interests, how about we split up today?" I glanced around the room. "Explore different parts of the island, report back, and make a proper itinerary for the week?"
Nate perked up immediately. "Nude beach. Calling it."
Trisha snorted. "Of course you are." She stretched her arms overhead before nodding toward the island's center. "I was eyeing that hiking trail up to the mountain. Good views, probably less..." She gestured vaguely toward the window where someone had just shrieked, "CHUG CHUG CHUG!"
Jade was already scrolling through the resort’s food map on her phone. "Buffets. All of them."
Kaori folded her arms, but her expression softened. "Surfing lessons. The clothed kind."
And me? I grinned. "The mall. Rumor has it designer brands here are practically giving stuff away."
Nate whistled. "A man of culture."
Trisha nudged me. "Better grab me something nice."
Jade perked up. "Oh! And if you see any limited-edition K-Beauty—"
Kaori smacked her lightly. "Jade."
We all laughed, the tension from earlier dissolving into easy excitement.
Nate stretched with a smug smirk. "Alright. Let the real Spooky Island adventure begin."
We all went our separate ways, with me making everyone promise to message our group chat if they spotted anything wild—or if Nate ended up mooning the entire beach (again).
The rumors about the mall were no joke. Within an hour, I had a legit Rolex wrapped around my wrist, its polished face glinting under the tropical lights. A hundred bucks. A hundred freaking bucks. I kept checking the paperwork—Spooky Island was listed as an official retailer, fine print and all—but my brain still couldn’t process it.
I was halfway to the limited-edition Jordans display when my blood froze mid-step.
Sydney. Sweeney.
Right there, strolling past the Sunglass Hut like this was any normal Tuesday. And she wasn’t alone. A guy I barely registered—tall, broad, looking equal parts confused and thrilled—was being towed along by her manicured grip, Sydney’s free hand pressing a finger to her lips in a shhh motion.
I didn’t even think. My feet moved before my brain could yell BAD IDEA. They ducked into a discreet hallway marked STAFF ONLY, and by the time I crept close enough to peek, Sydney had the guy pinned against the wall, one hand fisted in his shirt.
Sydney pressed closer, her fingers curling into the man's shirt with predatory grace. "You ever fuck someone with one of these meatsuits yet?" she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.
The guy tensed, swallowing hard. "N-no. Just took this body maybe an hour ago." He blinked twice, rolling his shoulders like the sensation of human skin was still foreign. "Still getting used to the... the equipment."
Sydney snorted, running a fingertip down his chest in a way that made him shiver. "Equipment's the same, no matter what species wears it. Just hotter and sweatier now." Her grin widened, all sharp amusement. "Guess I'm your first proper ride in this flesh, huh?"
The guy exhaled sharply, eyes darting down to where her thigh had slotted between his. "Uh. Yeah."
"Good." Sydney pressed her lips to his pulse point, humming when his nails dug into the wall behind him. "Let me show you how humans play."
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket—Nate: GUYS THE BEACH IS OFFICIALLY A NO-CLOTHES-FROM-THE-WAIST-DOWN ZONE???—but I barely registered it. Because I was too busy trying to process whatever weird-ass conversation Sydney was having with this guy.
Meatsuits? Species? What the hell did that even mean?
But then Sydney pressed her thigh between his legs, and the guy let out a sharp, desperate sound, and suddenly, the existential crisis in my brain took an immediate backseat.
Sydney hooked her fingers in the hem of her dress and yanked it up past her hips, revealing the kind of lingerie that made my blood pressure spike. The guy—who was definitely not confused anymore—lunged forward, mouth meeting hers in a kiss that looked more like a fight for dominance than anything tender.
She shoved him back against the wall, and he went willingly, groaning as her hands slid down his body like she was mapping every inch.
My brain short-circuited as Sydney rocked her hips against the guy, her nails raking down his back hard enough to leave red trails. The guy groaned against her neck, fingers digging into her waist as she rode him with ruthless precision. Every movement was pure hunger—the way she rolled her hips, the way she arched her back as he dragged his teeth along her collarbone. My cock strained against my shorts, aching, and before I could stop myself, I had my hand wrapped around it, stroking in time with Sydney’s rhythm.
She was relentless, bouncing on him with bruising force, her moans low and dark as the guy slammed into her. “Fuck me like you mean it,” she growled, gripping his hair to yank his head back. The guy gasped, his body shuddering, and judging by the way his grip tightened on her hips, he was already close.
I wasn’t far behind. Sydney’s thighs tensed, her body clenching around him as she let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, that’s it—feel it.” Then she locked onto his mouth, swallowing his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. His whole body went rigid, a choked cry tearing from his throat as he came, pulse after pulse, hands clawing at her skin as she milked him dry.
Sydney followed seconds later, her back arching violently, head thrown back—but instead of a moan, she let out a sound that sent ice through my veins. A rough, guttural snarl, inhuman and raw, like something out of a nightmare.
Holy shit. My fingers clenched, my orgasm hitting me in a wave I couldn’t stop, spurting hot and thick onto the floor between my feet.
The moment I came back to my senses, I was shoving myself back into my shorts, my pulse roaring in my ears. That sound—it wasn’t right. Whatever the hell Sydney was, she wasn’t human, and I needed to be gone.
I didn’t even bother zipping up properly before bolting for the door, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Just as my fingers brushed the handle, I heard it—Sydney’s sharp inhale.
“Cum,” she muttered, voice dripping with menace.
Dread coiled in my gut as I risked one last glance back. Sydney had dropped into a crouch, her fingers tracing through the mess I’d left behind. Her gaze flicked up—right toward the shadows where I’d been standing—and the growl that followed sent me scrambling forward.
“Someone here still owns their flesh,” she snarled. “And they saw us.”
I didn’t stick around to hear the rest.