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Ross here again. Friends are great, but they can lead to drama sometimes. My friend Ian somehow found out that my girlfriend, Carole, has been using skinsuits to let me sleep with any woman I want (even celebrities!) and it sounds like he wants a piece of the pie. Fortunately, Carole has a plan to deal with this troublesome development but she needs my help.
Uh, hi. I’m Ross. I’m a university student in the not-so far off future of 2103. Huh.. alright, how to describe my last twelve hours… Well, I've certainly learned a lot. hahaha... Experienced a whole bunch of first times. Hm... okay so this was how it went down. After an exam yesterday evening, I was all set to go grab dinner with some of my buddies from class when my girlfriend sends me a message. Turns out she was hella horny now that the test was over so I gave my friends a rain check and went to meet up with her. After a bit, though, my gf messaged and canceled on me! Frustrated at being jerked around, when another girl hit on me, I had a moment of weakness and agreed to fool around with her instead. Turns out this other girl had some wild secrets of her own, and things only got crazier from there. I learned about an entire fetish I never new existed and I got to have a threesome! It was a bit of a rollercoaster of emotions, but I think I came out of the whole ordeal a better, more experienced boyfriend, and you know, I think I am looking forward to the next time we get a chance to have some fun!
A government experiment to create intelligent microbial life fails, but a small sample is taken home and is eaten by an unsuspecting civilian.
Story concept blatantly stolen from When The Yoghurt Took Over.
I want to believe that it’s not my fault.
It is - it totally is - but I didn’t do it on purpose.
And while, if you had asked anyone ten years ago, “Hey, would you like your body and civilization to be hijacked by this psychic hivemind of hyper-intelligent yoghurt?” they would have obviously said no, there’s nobody alive today that would ever want things to go back to the way they were.
But I’ve skipped ahead, so let’s rewind for a second.
It started in a lab, in a country, funded by a government. Not that any of them exist anymore. I’d managed to sneak my way into a high pay, low responsibility position thanks to a doctored resume and a friend of a friend shuffling some files around.
The team I was assigned to had just completed phase one of their latest project: Genetically engineer intelligent life. And by complete phase one, I mean get greenlit and funded to actually start work.
I couldn’t tell you the exact science going on behind the scenes - like I said, high pay, low responsibility - but what I did understand was that they wanted to start with a microbe that was easy to cultivate in an environment hospitable to humans and didn’t pose any poison or toxicity risks.
Why microbes? Well, the plan was to have each cell be part of a larger network, kind of like how a single ant is pretty stupid but an entire nest is apparently much smarter. At least that’s how it was explained to me, and I was willing to take their word for it.
Anyway, we started with lactobacillus; the yoghurt bacteria. Yes, just like in that one episode of that streaming anthology. And frankly, compared to how things went …
A newly married couple find their lives upended when the wife goes to work for a company where all is not as it seems.
Riley Harper was between jobs when she saw the ad. The 21 year old blonde had recently quit as a waitress at a local restaurant. She usually got great tips that she knew was more thanks to her curves than her service, but despised being hit on all the time, especially now that she was newly married. But it wasn’t okay for her to be without a job. Yesterday her husband Ben came home early from his factory. Apparently he’d been furloughed for at least 3 weeks. They didn’t have any sort of savings that would keep them in the black longer than a couple of weeks, so Riley stepped up.
She got on her phone and began job hunting, but quickly grew frustrated by how similar they were to every job she’d had before. Cashier, hostess, server, retail sales specialist. She wasn’t qualified for much else, but just once she’d like to do something that didn’t involve wearing a name tag. That’s when she came across the ad for Del Corp.
Riley clicked on it, and read about a company that was a bit of a drive away. An hour. But it paid eighty thousand dollars a year. That was four times what her last job paid! Del Corp was looking for people who could do simple data entry, and no degree was required. Then the best yet. They would let you work from home 4 of the 5 days a week! This suddenly seemed too good to be true, but what the hell. For the hope of that much money, she’d take her chances.
Riley looked for a place to begin filling out her application online, but then read that the application and interview process would only be done in person, and that candidates would …
Aisha volunteers for an unspecified medical research project, only to be left alone in a waiting room where absolutely nothing of interest happens to her. A fire in the building forces her to go home before she has a chance to participate in the experiment.
At least that's how it seems at first.
Aisha sat impatiently in the bland, sterile room. Not literally sterile, but the spartan lack of decor and drab colouring made her feel like she was waiting in an unfurnished hospital ward. Admittedly, this was hardly surprising - she’d signed up to join some kind of mysterious medical experiment at uni after all - but it wouldn’t kill them to put in a pot plant or something.
The door opened, and Aisha gratefully rose from the sole chair in the room, only to sink back down in disappointment when she was told they would be ready for her soon. Not soon enough, she thought to herself.
Her leg bounced restlessly, and she began to question whether it had been worth signing up at all. Fifty bucks was fifty bucks, but if she wound up waiting here for hours she may as well have just worked a shift at some shitty little fast food place for all the good it would do her.
She shivered. This wasn’t a good attitude to have. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and steadied herself. How did the saying go?
“Patience is a virtue: Possess it if you can. Very rare in women and never in a man.”
Her grandmother had taught her that. A bit mean, but she grew up in mean times. Instead of getting frustrated, Aisha decided to challenge herself to see how long she could stay perfectly still. Like a Buddhist meditation kind of thing. Just sit still, stare straight ahead and focus on her breathing.
She was so focused that she almost jumped when the door opened again.
Someone in scrubs poked their head in and asked how she was feeling.
“Fine,” she lied, though admittedly the attempted meditation had seemed to be working for a moment.
Scrubs seemed …
I thought that having my body possessed, my life stolen and my evenings spent tangled in a carnal carousel of degenerate sex was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I was wrong.
It had been three months since I had felt the presence slither out of my mind. Three months since I had been trapped as a helpless passenger in my own body, watching it gleefully debase itself in ways I had never dared imagine.
There had been no warning: One moment I had been waiting in line to audition for some minor speaking role, when a sudden shiver ran through me. The person sitting next to me had asked if I was okay, and I’d tried to make a joke about how nervous I was. Instead, my body silently stood up and began to walk briskly towards the exit.
I had tried to cry out. I tried to stop myself. I tried to trip myself up, swivel my eyes or even blink in a way that might signal to someone that something was terribly wrong, but I completely lost control of my own faculties. Some outside force had seized control of my body and walked it smartly into the elevator, taking us down to the lobby, out the studio doors and into the city’s seedy underbelly.
Well, perhaps not exactly. As my body began to pilot itself towards what I recognised as the red light district, I felt myself almost blacking out in panic - the thought of being trapped as my body handed out back-alley blowjobs filling me with a sense of sickness beyond simple nausea.
To my bitter relief, I watched myself sashay into the most salubrious venue in the city: More a luxury hotel than a whorehouse, but everyone knew that the turndown service included some very intimate extras.
I felt my face flex into a charming smile to the bouncer and saw his look of amused recognition. I’d never seen the brute in my life, but I …
Zoe had a wonderful life! That was until everything just went wrong. No relationship, no job, and most of her stuff got stolen. Zoe finds herself the Queen of a host of mind-controlling parasites. And she figures it's about time that she takes her life back and more.
Zoe slowly poked at her eggs as she munched on a piece of bacon. It was a little crispier than she had hoped, breaking easily in her mouth as she chewed. Her mind was adrift, not focused on the food but on a possible announcement today at work. While she had only heard sparse whispers and rumors, there was a chance that her division was up for a promotion. Her toes curled at the thought of being able to finally move up in the workplace. After all, that meant better hours, better workloads, and a better paycheck. She had been putting in the work over the past few weeks in hopes that it would put her in the spotlight. There really wasn’t anyone else better suited for the position than her.
“I can just feel it! Today is the day that everything changes for the better!” Zoe said as she bit down again on some bacon. She wiggled a little in her chair and kicked her legs excitedly. Zoe grabbed her phone and sent another text to her boyfriend, expressing her delight, before realizing the time.
“Shoot! I need to get ready! I can’t be late!”
Zoe finished up the last of her food before she rushed to the bedroom to pick out her clothes. She decided on a nice purple cotton tee that had a bit of a deep V-neck to it and slipped it over the black bra she had on. She ruffled through her drawers before she found a navy blue pair of leggings that she put on over top of her pink satin panties. She grabbed her uniform coat, which was neatly hung up on a coat hanger and put it on.
“Looking promotion ready,” Zoe said as she adjusted her clothes in the mirror. She …
It's not easy to bargain with demons, which Eddie discovers the hard way after he escapes death by trading his soul to the demon Azir, a handsome and charming resident of Hell. Azir promises to return Eddie's soul in exchange for allowing demons the use of his body for their own amusement. It's the last deal he wants to make, but if he wants to save his soul, it may be his only choice.
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. …
Chapter written by
Ross here again. Friends are great, but they can lead to drama sometimes. My friend Ian somehow found out that my girlfriend, Carole, has been using skinsuits to let me sleep with any woman I want (even celebrities!) and it sounds like he wants a piece of the pie. Fortunately, Carole has a plan to deal with this troublesome development but she needs my help.
Previous story: https://www.outfoxstories.com/blog/commission/smyzxb_vulnerability/
Mrs. Rackert’s huge, soft tits felt like dough in my hands. Kneading them from behind was almost as intoxicating as the feeling of her folds convulsing around my cock.
“Ah… Ross, your hard rod, it’s so big! It’s rampaging inside me! I’m gonna cum!” Mrs. Rackert moaned in between panting breaths. Her long dirty blonde hair disheveled and flecked with glistening sweat from our rough copulation. “Ross, I’m cumming!”
“I’m cumming, too, Mrs. Rackert. Hnnghn!”
I felt my sacs tighten, a pressure building in my loins causing me to lose my rhythm. Feeling the incoming orgasm, I let go of Mrs. Rackert’s tits and took hold of her plump hips and pulled, driving my penis in as deep as I could before it exploded, pumping load after load into my professor’s innermost depths. My vision blurred as my ejaculation went on: ten seconds, twenty, thirty seconds; I almost made it to forty before I felt my high start to fade. As the pleasure dimmed, I became more aware of the semen leaking from Mrs. Rackert’s snatch, oozing out thickly to pool on the sheets below us. I was panting myself as I pulled out and flopped back onto my butt upon the soggy bedsheets. I saw Mrs. Rackert’s curvy figure slump tummy down as well. We both took a minute to catch our breath after the wild sex. This ejaculation volume booster my girlfriend found was incredible, but it took proportionally more out of me, cumming that much for that long.
Mrs. Rackert stirred first. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, I watched as she ran a hand over her body, wicking jizz from the puddle from her breasts, and stomach. She looked me in the eye as she dropped the collected cum from her hand into her mouth and swallowed.
“Ross, you’re such a naughty boy, seducing your professor like this. You know I can’t give you extra credit for this,” she purred. The sights and sounds threatened to pierce my refractory period and make me hard again in a hurry.
But, her words themselves had the opposite effect.
“Shit… Mrs. Rackert’s a fine piece of ass, but you had to bring up class and now I can’t forget how she failed me…”
The shapely professor’s demeanor changed suddenly from seductive to sympathetic.
“Aww, sorry about that, hun,” she apologized. Shaking out her golden curls, she reached behind her neck, and moments later, her facial features deformed, deflating as the person under her skin removed the head mask portion of the skinsuit.
“We were doing so well, too. It really is too bad you have bad memories with this woman. She’s got a banging body for an older lady,” Carole remarked, as if Mrs. Rackert was any older than 30. My girlfriend's face emerged from Mrs. Rackert’s back and the latter’s vacated head rested flaccidly upon her huge bosom, yellow hair spilling out around her chest and down her front. Leaving the suit in that partially removed state, Carole crawled forward on Mrs. Rackert’s hands and knees to kiss me.
“It is nice to get to plow her. I’d always wanted to do that, even since the first class,” I agreed when she let my lips go.
“And now you have,” my girlfriend giggled, sitting back and once more running a hand along Mrs. Rackert’s bodyline. “Imagine if we filmed ourselves and sent the video to her husband?”
I frowned. “That’s cruel. And if anything, that would send the mister after my head as much as get between their marriage.”
“Not if you put on a suit first. I have one of a big black guy with a huge dick. I bet Mrs. Rackert would look great taking a BBC. Alternatively, imagine his face seeing his wife railed by a girl with a cock.”
I shook my head more firmly. “No. As much as I clashed with her, it would be wrong to mess up her life like that.” Sometimes I worried about my girlfriend’s morals.
Skinsuits - a technological marvel that changed the wearer externally to whatever appearance the skinsuit was modeled after. Whether it was a real person or a fictional one, skinsuits could impersonate anyone with near perfect accuracy, and with spatial shaping technology, no disparity between wearer and disguise was incompatible. Even I, a nearly 6 ft tall 20 year old man was able to become a sexy 5’6” bombshell thanks to skinsuits.
Since then Carole and I have made skinsuits almost ubiquitous in our sex life. I didn't always use one but, on the few occasions I did, my experiences were split between becoming a girl myself to play with Carole’s cumming dildo when she wanted to take the lead and getting to try out different male body types (both usually at Carole's request). Carole herself almost always wore a skinsuit for sex these days. She gave me the chance to sleep with a wider diversity of women than I could have ever dreamed of, from my hot professor this semester to the cute convenience store android greeter modeled after a busty bunny girl, to famous celebrities. I could practically point at any woman we saw and say a word, and in a day or two, I could be fucking her. Or rather, my girlfriend in a skinsuit of the woman we saw. Thus, I had been indoctrinated in the special pleasures and privileges of skinsuits.
Even watching her put on or strip from a skinsuit had shifted from an alarming and disturbing sight to an arousing spectacle for me. But I noticed Carole’s expression sober as she removed the rest of Mrs. Rackert’s skinsuit, returning to her natural, slender form.
“Um… Ross, I have some bad news.”
I blinked. “What is it?”
“Well… It’s about Ian… somehow he found out about my skinsuits and is… pestering me about them.”
“That… could be a problem, yes…” I scowled thoughtfully. Ian was a good friend, perhaps even my best friend here at college, but he had a whimsical side that sometimes made him hard to read, and recently he’d been a bit more… bold in talking about his tastes in women. I could see him learning about skinsuits and the special play I enjoyed through my girlfriend and them being… enviable. Though, it was curious that he hadn’t mentioned anything to me about it yet.
“Sorry if he’s given you a hard time. I’ll have a talk with him about it,” I offered, though I hadn’t really formed a proper plan for the confrontation yet.
“Well, actually, I have a different idea,” Carole suggested. “And I want your help for it.”
“Sure, anything for you, Love.”
My beautiful girlfriend smiled mischievously. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“We’re doing what?” I asked incredulously.
A few days later, my girlfriend invited me back over to her place to execute her plan to deal with Ian. Having shared little of her plan back when she first brought it up, I was informed only to be ready to suit up. None of my experience with skinsuits thus far prepared me for this though.
Inside her apartment, I found my girlfriend seated on the edge of her bed, naked and suited up to her thighs in a pale skinsuit, with nearly identical red locks hanging from the suit’s empty head.
“Come, join me inside this suit,” she repeated patiently. A small smile turned up the corners of her lips.
“We… we can do that?”
Carole nodded. “This one’s special. I had it made specially for two simultaneous wearers.”
“How does that-”
“Just put it on with me, and you’ll find out! It’ll be far easier to experience than to try to explain it,” Carole cut him off. That statement could summarize a lot of skinsuit experiences. “You go in front for this,” she added.
As I drew closer, the suit did look a bit looser around her legs than normal. Usually the suits were pretty tight, but this didn’t look like there was nearly enough space to add me to the insides.
“Don’t worry, it’ll stretch.”
“A-alright. Don’t blame me if it tears or something though…”
Despite my fears though, my girlfriend was right as usual. After stripping out of my clothes, I discovered that the suit did indeed stretch enough for me to push my legs in with Carole’s. I had to practically sit in her lap as I worked myself in, but once it was on up to my thighs like it was for her, we both were able to work together to pull it up the rest of us. Having four hands balanced out the extra awkwardness of fitting around two bodies, and even knowing spatial shapers could work miracles, it was hard to feel confident about how we would look when it was all finished.
We inserted our arms into the suit’s together, ending the Shiva-like boon of multiple arms and presenting the first difficulty I was worried about: who would control our combined body? But I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to feel my girlfriend take charge while I was mulling over how to ask the question - Our arms felt as one, but they moved without my consent, quickly resuming the process of pulling the suit taut in the necessary places and pulling the head piece up over both of our heads. In the darkness of the mask pre-fitting, I felt us seal up the seam along our back, the feeling of sharing senses with the skinsuit already setting in for the parts of us that were already properly wearing it. Our hands adjusted the head piece and abruptly, I felt the suit take over my senses in full.
No longer was I sitting on my girlfriend’s lap, but instead, I was simply sitting on the edge of her bed, naked. The mirror on her make up table across the room reflected my girlfriend’s face upon our visage, the rest of our body as slim and properly shaped as she always looked in the nude.
“See? No one can tell we’re both in here together.” My girlfriend’s voice was like a whisper, clear but quiet, and seeming to come from just behind my ear. I wondered if it was audible at all to anyone outside.
“And because I’m registered as the suit owner, I also have master control over this body, too,” I felt the surreal experience of saying with my own lips, even though they were not my words. I felt us stand and saunter over to her walk-in closet and scan the section in the back where a multitude of skinsuits hung. I recognized several from our recent sexcapades, but I was surprised to see many more I wasn’t familiar with.
“Now, then, this is the next part of my plan.” Carole’s voice returned to the whisper version of her voice.
I felt us pick out one particular tanned skinsuit with short straw blonde hair as well as a second smaller pale peach suit with longer mousey-brown hair. We folded both over one arm before turning to a dresser in the closet and opening the top drawer. Inside was a black leather harness with a ring mount on the front - a strap-on harness. We carried the three items out of the closet and dropped them on the bed. From her nightstand, we picked up a pack of condoms. They were a dated style contraceptive in this era, but they were still available from most sex shops for novelty. These ones appeared to be shiny black latex. Lastly, I recognized the ejaculation volume boosting drug I had taken last time in the top drawer of the nightstand.
“We’re… I’m going to be fucking Ian, aren’t I?” I tried to whisper in the same stealth way Carole seemed to be able to talk in my ear, but I seemed only able to move our shared mouth and speak with my girlfriend's voice.
“Clever boy,” Carole murmured. I could hear the mirth even in her whisper. She knocked back a dose of the drug. I could only assume being in front was what made it go to my stomach; I could feel the water she drank with it quench some of my thirst. “Here, you can take over. Pack the suits up in that duffle and pick a nice outfit for us. Whatever strikes your fancy.”
“Leave me with the manual labor, huh? Alright,” I complained jokingly. As promised, I found myself in full control. Moving about felt as normal as my own body, aside from the difference in center of gravity. I almost couldn’t even tell that the suit I was wearing had an extra passenger - it was mostly no different than that vague feeling of tightness over my whole body that I remembered from the last time I wore a skinsuit. That made it easy enough to pack our bag, pick out a simple low cut yellow empire waist blouse and form fitting jeans and put them on (Carole helped with our bra).
“Not bold enough to try a skirt or dress?” Carole teased in my ear. I chose not to answer.
With the duffle on our shoulder, we locked up Carole’s apartment and set out.
I faked a disgusted scowl.
“This is what you wanted, right? If I do this, you won’t tell Ross?” I grumbled. It was weird referring to myself in third person, as if I wasn’t there.
“Yes. Don’t worry, your secret will be safe with me!” My dark skinned friend was practically salivating as I stripped Carole’s body in the privacy of his apartment. That… was also weird, but my discomfort about it helped fuel my acting, so I tried to embrace it rather than suppress it (Carole’s idea). It was impossible to cover both her bare nipples and crotch with one hand, but I did my best, keeping one hand free to pull the tan skinsuit out of our duffle first.
“This is her, right? The girl from your gym?”
“Oh shit. Yeah, that looks like her,” Ian confirmed.
“I’ve never met this woman, so I’m not going to be able to act like her, just so you know,” I added. Carole had offered some suggestions for this interstitial banter on the way here. Why she wasn’t controlling us herself if she had all these ideas of how to play this out was beyond me.
“It’s alright. I’ve barely ever talked to her either. Just pretend your a typical tomboy and that’d be fine,” Ian waved dismissively. “A tomboy who wants my dick,” he added after the fact.
I didn’t have to veil my disgust as I turned around and started threading our Carole legs into the new skinsuit’s. “Does this work?” I whispered to Carole. “Putting on another?”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have planned it this way if it didn’t,” Carole assured me in her stealth voice.
That much made sense, so I kept going, pulling the suit up our waist and then putting on her arms and chest and finally stretching the head over my own. It was nice and easy with a suit with short hair for a change, and definitely more straightforward than having two people put on one suit together. The familiar darkness quickly fade just like before once I sealed up the back and when I opened my eyes, my point of view was higher than I had become used to. Perhaps even a little higher than my own.
“Whoa, holy shit!” I heard Ian gasp behind me, his voice cracking. “You really do look just like her… I mean, I know what I saw before, but… still…”
I turned, glancing over myself as I faced Ian again. I felt strong. This woman he had requested was ripped. She had well defined muscles, but not bulging so far that it interfered with a womanly silhouette. She had big boobs and equally big areola above six pack, or no, eight pack abs and a neatly shaved patch of pubic hair just above her slit.
I cleared my throat, hearing a huskier, lower pitch than I was used to from most of the women in my life.
“Ahem… s-so, what are you waiting for, uh… dude. Take your pants off already,” I told him. A tomboy was basically a girl acting like a guy… right? I didn’t exactly have much experience with this type.
Ian picked his jaw up off the floor and scrambled to undo his belt and shuck his pants, kicking them across the room and yanking down his boxers.
I felt Carole take over. Seems she wanted to pilot for this part herself at least, so I became a passenger just along for the ride in first person.
“Hey, lose the shirt, too. If I have to be buck naked, you do, too.”
“Huh? Oh… uh… fair...” Ian squawked but complied, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it with his pants. It was odd seeing my friend naked with a raging hard-on, even knowing that was where this encounter was headed from the start. It was only thanks to Carole making made me suck her dildo a number of times in the past that I wasn't totally grossed out as Carole guided our buff body in and wrapped our mouth around Ian’s pulsing brown shaft. In fact, feeling and tasting a real penis made me appreciate the accuracy of the craftsmanship of some of Carole’s dildos. They really were spot on recreations.
I should have expected that, as soon as we had taken Ian’s cock to its base, Carole would force me back in control.
“Oh my God,” Ian breathed as I choked in surprise. At least he enjoyed that. I recovered before he noticed anything and drawing on recent experience, continued the blow job as best I could until finally he came. Once again, I was startled by how well Carole’s fake cum emulated the taste of the real deal, and being used to the former made it easier to bear the slime spurting into my mouth now.
Pulling back, I felt Carole take control again. I felt a bit used, but, all things considered, the trend in swapping had been par for the course. Carole licked our lips.
“Not bad, Ian. But don’t think I’d be satisfied with just a blow job,” Carole made us say condescendingly. She reached down and grabbed his softening dick fiercely.
“Huh? W-wait, I just came. I’m still sensitive. And uh… it’s not like I can’t get hard again for a little bit!” Ian squealed.
Ian was usually a cool customer, so seeing him frantic like this, to this extent, was new to me.
Carole let him go with an indignant huff. We stood and returned to the duffle bag where she pulled out the second skinsuit and threw it at Ian.
“Since your dick is useless now, it’s your turn to put on a suit,” Carole sneered. She grabbed the strap-on harness and the condoms and turned away from Ian. “You saw me put this on, so you should be able to figure it out. Don’t worry about ripping it, it’ll stretch.”
“This is… a girl skinsuit? Wait, you want me to put this on? But…”
“Put it on, or I’ll put it on you,” Carole glared at him dangerously over our shoulder, making Ian yelp and start fumbling to obey. I caught a glance that the guy was actually hard again. He liked being bossed around by a strong woman, huh? No wonder Carole saw an opportunity to take advantage of the situation this way.
We focused once more on the strap-on harness, stepping into it and pulling it up to our hips. Before settling it fully in position though, Carole reached into the gym girl’s pussy with two fingers, then another. She went deeper and suddenly I felt an echo of the pleasure of fingering, multiplying the sensation. Did she… reach through the gym girl’s pussy to touch the Carole suit’s genitals, too? I realized what she was doing when her whole hand had almost disappeared to the wrist into the gym girl’s snatch and I felt our fingers close around my cock. This was the reason Carole had invited me along. Growing harder myself by the moment, Carole meticulously fished my dick out through two layers of suit till I protruded out through gym girl’s folds. Standing hard, size and awaiting volume bolstered by the drug earlier, my penis looked appropriately sized for her frame.
Carole opened up a condom and rolled it over me, tucking the edges into the gym girl’s pussy. Seeing the slick shine along my shaft, I understood then - it looked nearly indistinguishable from some of Carole’s black sex toys. And after she threaded it through the ring brace in the strap-on harness and finished securing the straps, it was even more convincing. We turned back to Ian to find him replaced by a petite young woman with long light brown hair and gray eyes. She had a modest chest which she seemed too distracted by to notice our approach.
“Hey, 'Mary,'” Carole grabbed the new girl by the head and yanked her close, leveling the gym girl’s “strap-on” in her face. “Suck on it.”
I could see Ian desperately processing the last few minutes’ events, clearly still hung up on the fact that he now had a female body. But at Carole’s insistence, mushing my concealed meat against “Mary’s” face, Ian hesitantly obeyed, accepting my “toy” into his mouth.
Ian was understandably not as good at fellatio as my girlfriend, but the inside of his mouth was warm and his sucking was not unpleasant in itself, so between the stimulation and the situation, not to mention the booster, it didn’t take long for me to cum.
To my surprise, through my orgasmic bliss, I saw my semen flood Ian’s mouth, gargling and sputtering out with each contraction and dribbling down “Mary’s” chin before spilling down her front. What a devious trick - Carole must have punctured the condoms’ tips beforehand for my ejaculate to escape the cover.
“Swallow it! Drink all of my cum!” Carole barked. Since she wasn’t the one cumming, she still had full function of our body. Meanwhile, I blearily counted out the longest orgasm of my life, beating my previous record by a whole ten seconds. Finally, Carole pulled me out of Ian’s mouth and let him cough, catching his breath. Vulnerable like that, I felt Carole reach down and pick Ian up with little difficulty. Was it possible that we actually had all the physical power that that gym girl had? Or was this perhaps a product of hers and my combined strength?
We carried our partner to the bed where we deposited him on his back and forced open his legs. But rather than penetrate him immediately, Carole rubbed my length against his outer folds, teasing both of us.
After a few agonizing seconds of this, Ian broke down.
“If you’re going to put it in, do it already…” he whimpered.
“Oh? Sounds like you want it now.” Carole made us taunt.
…
“Beg me for it.”
Ian’s face scrunched up. “...Please give it to me.”
“Be more specific,” Carole demanded.
“Please shove it inside me. Your big black cock! I want you to fuck my pussy with your giant black dick!” Ian squeaked.
Carole pulled back our hips, lined up my shaft and drove it in to the base with one swift motion. Ian gagged and twitched as the stimulation overwhelmed him. I felt Carole reach behind our neck and peel off the gym girl’s face. Carole leaned us down pinning Ian beneath us, the husk of the gym girl’s head hanging from our neck.
“If you ever want to feel this again, you’ll pledge to be my slave. You’ll never threaten me or Ross again, you’ll act like nothing ever happened around him, but you’ll answer to me when I call for you, and you won’t tell anyone else about these skinsuits ever again. Understand?” She laid out her terms in a deathly severe tone right in Ian’s ear. I heard a gurgling in Ian’s throat but that wasn’t enough for Carole. She pulled out a bit and jerked my dick back in again. “Do you understand?” she repeated.
Ian finally mustered the self control to swallow. “Yes, Ma’am. I understand,” he answered hoarsely.
“Good. Now that that’s taken care of. Let’s enjoy ourselves properly.”
I felt us straighten back up and pull the gym girl’s head back over our shared Carole head, restoring the tomboy’s façade. Then Carole relinquished control, leaving me to fuck my friend. I thought it’d be weirder, but with the cute girl skinsuit he had put on, and the delightfully tight pussy squeezing my thinly veiled dick, I found it surprisingly easy to enjoy shoving myself in and out of “Mary.” “Her” lustful moans encouraged me as I felt myself get close again. When I felt my second ejaculation begin, I stuffed my rod in as deep as it would go, spewing jizz all over my friend’s fake insides but in a fuzzy thought, I pulled out at what I estimated was my half way point, and pointed my shaft at Ian’s prone body, spraying him with spurt after spurt of my enhanced, thick seed. I didn’t keep track of time, but I may have broken my record again then, and thanks to the drug I still felt like I had more to give.
“Hey, roll over onto your stomach and point your ass this way,” I instructed him. “I’m going to take your anal virginity tonight, too.”
Needless to say, Ian did not give my girlfriend any problems after that.