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Chapter 1: A new ability in Shifting Desire
by
Oneplus123
· 14 Sep 2025
You discover you have a shapeshifting ability, but it's limited to the girls you have sex with
792
0
0
Chapter 2 in Spooky Island Adventures
by
AziAzi
· 14 Sep 2025
You were freaking out, some monster had replaced Sydney... and you're not sure what to do. There aren't any return flights until the end of the week, so you have to survive till then. You want to tell your friends about this, but would they even believe you?
519
0
0
Chapter 1 in Spooky Island Adventures
by
AziAzi
· 14 Sep 2025
You and your friends get invited to stay at Spooky Island, and you couldn’t help but be excited for it! Your group arrives at the island and are pleasantly surprised by what you see, unaware of the evil hiding within the island.
2.3K
0
0
Chapter 4 in BodyPossession.com
by
AziAzi
· 14 Sep 2025
The boys finally get back into the Drew’s bodies. Steve, Kevin, and Russel enjoy some sibling bonding, while John and James take the parent’s bodies out for a spin.
2.8K
0
0
Chapter 3 in BodyPossession.com
by
AziAzi
· 14 Sep 2025
John quickly joins in with his friends, and thus starts the wild night the friends were going to have...
2.8K
0
0
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New Adventures
Your girlfriend discloses a secret fantasy of hers…to become possessed by an alien parasite! And as luck would have it… she has found one to invade and control her body. However, she wants you to be the guide to the extraterrestrial tourist hijacking her sexcrazed body.
Your girlfriend Hannah confesses to you a fantasy of hers while watching a cheesy sci-fi movie. She confesses that the idea of an alien invading and taking control of her body, like in the movie you’re both watch, has always been a fantasy of hers. She loves the idea of watching and feeling her body move out of her control and confesses another thing. One of her friends has been possessed and has asked her to be a willing host to another one of its kind.
CHARACTERS
Hannah, your girlfriend, early 30s, very curvy, bisexual.
You
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day, Oregon
Your girlfriend Hannah confesses to you a fantasy of hers while watching a cheesy sci-fi movie. She confesses that the idea of an alien invading and taking control of her body, like in the movie you’re both watch, has always been a fantasy of hers. She loves the idea of watching and feeling her body move out of her control and confesses another thing. One of her friends has been possessed and has asked her to be a willing host to another one of its kind.
CHARACTERS
Hannah, your girlfriend, early 30s, very curvy, bisexual.
You
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day, Oregon
270
2
0
You are the new Knight Commander of an all female squad. You job is to make them loyal to the Knights core.
CHARACTERS
Daniel (You): Stands as 6"3', black hair and battle scarred. A loyal member of the Knights. You were put in charge of the Sapphire Rose Knight Unit.
Joan: Your Vice Commander and former Captain of the unit. She has blonde hair, is 5"6', and the strictest.
Hazel: The logistics of the Unit. 5'4 with violent hair and a carefree attitude.
Alice: The medic of the Unit. 5"1' with crimson red hair. She is nice and respectful.
Jenny: The smith of Unit. 5"5' with black hair. She is gruff and friendly.
Yuna: The scout of the Unit. 4"10 with Silver hair. She is all spite and anger.
Zen: Your sister and the cook of the Unit. 5"5' with Black hair. She is gentle and hopeful.
SETTING & WORLD
[Setting & World]
A fantasy world where magic and machine exist together but the world never evolved past Medival socially.
CHARACTERS
Daniel (You): Stands as 6"3', black hair and battle scarred. A loyal member of the Knights. You were put in charge of the Sapphire Rose Knight Unit.
Joan: Your Vice Commander and former Captain of the unit. She has blonde hair, is 5"6', and the strictest.
Hazel: The logistics of the Unit. 5'4 with violent hair and a carefree attitude.
Alice: The medic of the Unit. 5"1' with crimson red hair. She is nice and respectful.
Jenny: The smith of Unit. 5"5' with black hair. She is gruff and friendly.
Yuna: The scout of the Unit. 4"10 with Silver hair. She is all spite and anger.
Zen: Your sister and the cook of the Unit. 5"5' with Black hair. She is gentle and hopeful.
SETTING & WORLD
[Setting & World]
A fantasy world where magic and machine exist together but the world never evolved past Medival socially.
323
5
0
This story is about Jim and his crazy transformation adventure along with his friends, girlfriend, family, and other people around him.
This interactive story is quite similar to BE Addventure, but with AI. You can freely choose and type anything you want.
CHARACTERS
Jim, the Protagonist - The average teenager whom you play as.
Sharon, Jim's longtime girlfriend - The pretty girl whom Jim goes out
Rick, Jim's best friend
and others
This interactive story is quite similar to BE Addventure, but with AI. You can freely choose and type anything you want.
CHARACTERS
Jim, the Protagonist - The average teenager whom you play as.
Sharon, Jim's longtime girlfriend - The pretty girl whom Jim goes out
Rick, Jim's best friend
and others
172
0
0
Have you heard about Earth crystals, gaya, and soul energy? Surely it's just people rationalizing trauma, but what happens when a young man who has recently graduated with a degree in business administration finds himself in a dire labor market provoked by a recession?
Our protagonist finds himself making the universe work, repairing the lives of middle-aged women directly from the inside. To some people, being the universe's little janitor is better than working in Enron 2.0.
Jack moved to Concordia to accomplish his dreams of making a name for himself and proving that he is worthy of being called a genius. His ambitions are put on hold when the financial market crashes momentarily. Who could have thought that a company that makes carpets couldn't get us to Mars?
After an unfortunate job interview, Jack finds himself getting rolled for a piano and dying. When he awakens in a white limbo, preparing himself to confront heaven or hell, instead, the universe itself tells him that, well, souls after death just become background noise. The universe presents an alternative; he can return to the world of the living if he restores harmony in the lives of some chosen ones. He accepts, although he has no idea what the job is about. Darkness surrounded him, and he lost consciousness.
CHARACTERS
Jack, the protagonist. A young man in his early twenties, having just graduated, was the youngest in his school and had the best grades. But being the best doesn't matter when nobody is hiring.
Concordia, the capital city. The city of dreams, so large and densely populated that it could be a state of its own. Filled with joys, sorrows, and lives that Jack needs to repair.
SETTING & WORLD
A world as mundane as our own, but where souls and esoteric forces exist.
Our protagonist finds himself making the universe work, repairing the lives of middle-aged women directly from the inside. To some people, being the universe's little janitor is better than working in Enron 2.0.
Jack moved to Concordia to accomplish his dreams of making a name for himself and proving that he is worthy of being called a genius. His ambitions are put on hold when the financial market crashes momentarily. Who could have thought that a company that makes carpets couldn't get us to Mars?
After an unfortunate job interview, Jack finds himself getting rolled for a piano and dying. When he awakens in a white limbo, preparing himself to confront heaven or hell, instead, the universe itself tells him that, well, souls after death just become background noise. The universe presents an alternative; he can return to the world of the living if he restores harmony in the lives of some chosen ones. He accepts, although he has no idea what the job is about. Darkness surrounded him, and he lost consciousness.
CHARACTERS
Jack, the protagonist. A young man in his early twenties, having just graduated, was the youngest in his school and had the best grades. But being the best doesn't matter when nobody is hiring.
Concordia, the capital city. The city of dreams, so large and densely populated that it could be a state of its own. Filled with joys, sorrows, and lives that Jack needs to repair.
SETTING & WORLD
A world as mundane as our own, but where souls and esoteric forces exist.
294
1
0
For more mind control and possession nanomachine antics, check out Mattslime’s story: “Social Network”
https://www.outfoxstories.com/blog/outline/ctmkurbqbyubntvxrlntoehtfupsbaka/
You develop nanomachines that can go into a persons body, taking control of their mind. From there, you can control them via remote, program an AI to take over their body, or use a VR headset to possess them completely
You is a junior at a large university where he has been working hard on developing nanotechnology that would allow full interface with the subjects brain. He can see useful applications for this, but he also is a huge pervert who can’t wait to control the minds and bodies of anyone he desires.
CHARACTERS
You, the inventor of the nanomachines and a huge pervert. Has a mind control and body possession fetish
SETTING & WORLD
Current day on university campus
https://www.outfoxstories.com/blog/outline/ctmkurbqbyubntvxrlntoehtfupsbaka/
You develop nanomachines that can go into a persons body, taking control of their mind. From there, you can control them via remote, program an AI to take over their body, or use a VR headset to possess them completely
You is a junior at a large university where he has been working hard on developing nanotechnology that would allow full interface with the subjects brain. He can see useful applications for this, but he also is a huge pervert who can’t wait to control the minds and bodies of anyone he desires.
CHARACTERS
You, the inventor of the nanomachines and a huge pervert. Has a mind control and body possession fetish
SETTING & WORLD
Current day on university campus
295
7
6
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Your girlfriend discloses a secret fantasy of hers…to become possessed by an alien parasite! And as luck would have it… she has found one to invade and control her body. However, she wants you to be the guide to the extraterrestrial tourist hijacking her sexcrazed body.
Your girlfriend Hannah confesses to you a fantasy of hers while watching a cheesy sci-fi movie. She confesses that the idea of an alien invading and taking control of her body, like in the movie you’re both watch, has always been a fantasy of hers. She loves the idea of watching and feeling her body move out of her control and confesses another thing. One of her friends has been possessed and has asked her to be a willing host to another one of its kind.
CHARACTERS
Hannah, your girlfriend, early 30s, very curvy, bisexual.
You
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day, Oregon
Your girlfriend Hannah confesses to you a fantasy of hers while watching a cheesy sci-fi movie. She confesses that the idea of an alien invading and taking control of her body, like in the movie you’re both watch, has always been a fantasy of hers. She loves the idea of watching and feeling her body move out of her control and confesses another thing. One of her friends has been possessed and has asked her to be a willing host to another one of its kind.
CHARACTERS
Hannah, your girlfriend, early 30s, very curvy, bisexual.
You
SETTING & WORLD
Modern day, Oregon
270
2
0
For more mind control and possession nanomachine antics, check out Mattslime’s story: “Social Network”
https://www.outfoxstories.com/blog/outline/ctmkurbqbyubntvxrlntoehtfupsbaka/
You develop nanomachines that can go into a persons body, taking control of their mind. From there, you can control them via remote, program an AI to take over their body, or use a VR headset to possess them completely
You is a junior at a large university where he has been working hard on developing nanotechnology that would allow full interface with the subjects brain. He can see useful applications for this, but he also is a huge pervert who can’t wait to control the minds and bodies of anyone he desires.
CHARACTERS
You, the inventor of the nanomachines and a huge pervert. Has a mind control and body possession fetish
SETTING & WORLD
Current day on university campus
https://www.outfoxstories.com/blog/outline/ctmkurbqbyubntvxrlntoehtfupsbaka/
You develop nanomachines that can go into a persons body, taking control of their mind. From there, you can control them via remote, program an AI to take over their body, or use a VR headset to possess them completely
You is a junior at a large university where he has been working hard on developing nanotechnology that would allow full interface with the subjects brain. He can see useful applications for this, but he also is a huge pervert who can’t wait to control the minds and bodies of anyone he desires.
CHARACTERS
You, the inventor of the nanomachines and a huge pervert. Has a mind control and body possession fetish
SETTING & WORLD
Current day on university campus
295
7
6
Horny alien slugs have invaded earth searching for new bodies to help them reproduce. Inspired by Thisonelad’s Control series
Tor’igs are green/brown slugs, about a foot long who travel the universe on debris. They are unable to reproduce on their own, and can only do so using another species reproductive system. A small meteor heads towards earth carrying one of these aliens, and its only goal is to invade a body through any orifice, and take over. Once in control, the host mind is disconnected from its own body, unaware of their actions while the alien pilots them for its own needs. The Tor’igs can access their host’s memories.
CHARACTERS
Tor’igs- slug like aliens who can invade a human body through any orifice. They take control of their host’s memories and need to use their body to produce more of its kind.
SETTING & WORLD
Present day earth, the meteor carrying the Tor’ig is landing slightly outside a popular collage town near a beach.
Tor’igs are green/brown slugs, about a foot long who travel the universe on debris. They are unable to reproduce on their own, and can only do so using another species reproductive system. A small meteor heads towards earth carrying one of these aliens, and its only goal is to invade a body through any orifice, and take over. Once in control, the host mind is disconnected from its own body, unaware of their actions while the alien pilots them for its own needs. The Tor’igs can access their host’s memories.
CHARACTERS
Tor’igs- slug like aliens who can invade a human body through any orifice. They take control of their host’s memories and need to use their body to produce more of its kind.
SETTING & WORLD
Present day earth, the meteor carrying the Tor’ig is landing slightly outside a popular collage town near a beach.
254
2
0
Grayhaven is a city rotting from within — a playground of vice, ambition, and hunger, perfect for my quiet dominion. Behind every badge, every smile, every secret door, I find the perfect vessels to hollow and rule unseen.
Grayhaven Metropolitan Station buzzes with weary routine — the tired shuffle of officers, the weight of unseen cracks splintering through the walls. They think they’ve caged a petty criminal. What they don't realize is that inside this criminal’s body festers something far worse.
I am not human. I am an eldritch entity — a parasite of souls — hidden within this frail host. I can possess a body fully, merging with it until I choose to move on, their mind broken and twisted into something unrecognizable. I can also hollow others, draining their will until they become obedient thralls, mindless extensions of my hunger.
Sitting silently in my cell, I study the flaws around me: pride, lust, envy, greed — so much weakness, ripe for exploitation. All I need is the right crack in the armor. The right victim.
The feast is about to begin.
CHARACTERS
1. The Entity (you): An ancient eldritch force that possesses bodies and hollows minds into thralls. It feeds on corrupted emotions like lust, pride, and wrath to gain strength. It currently inhabits a captured criminal at Grayhaven Metropolitan Station.
2. Detective Mara Langford: A sharp, stubborn detective. Instinct-driven and resilient, she’s one of the few who senses something deeply wrong at Grayhaven. 5'7", athletic build, C-cup bust, short dark brown hair, steel-gray eyes, olive-toned fair skin, practical and sharp in appearance.
3. Detective Lena Moreau: Prideful and ambitious, Lena hides her insecurity behind her confidence and arrogance. Vulnerable through her vanity and need for recognition. 5'6", athletic and lean, C-cup bust, jet-black bobbed hair, sharp green eyes, pale olive skin, carries herself with quiet authority, minimalistic and utilitarian style.
4. Officer Elias Mercer: Mara’s loyal but hot-headed patrol partner. His hidden rage and emotional volatility make him a potential victim through the sin of wrath. 6'2", broad-shouldered and ruggedly built, short sandy-brown hair, piercing hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, stubbled jawline, casual but slightly rumpled attire that hints at a man used to action over words.
5. Ruby Castellanos: A street-smart prostitute in a nearby cell. Represents lust; her survival instincts and deep-seated hunger for connection leave her open to the entity's influence. 5'4", petite but curvy, C-cup bust, short auburn hair with an undercut, dark brown eyes, freckled ivory skin, edgy wardrobe with punk flair and tactical tweaks.
6. Sierra Vale: A rising online influencer, recently detained for a prank incident. Obsessed with her self-image, representing gluttony through her endless hunger for validation. 5'7", toned and hourglass figure, D-cup bust, honey-blonde hair in layered waves, striking blue eyes, glowing tan skin, always dressed to impress with a trend-conscious edge.
7. Officer Frank Doyle: A veteran beat cop hardened by decades of work. Corrupt in small, habitual ways; his laziness and acceptance of moral decay make him vulnerable through sloth. 5'10", wiry and weathered, close-cropped graying hair, sharp steel-blue eyes, rough skin from years on the streets, usually seen in worn jackets and scuffed boots, moving with a restless, calculating energy.
8. Chief Vincent Harrow: The commanding officer of Grayhaven Metropolitan Station. Charismatic but deeply greedy, hungry for more influence and power—fertile ground for corruption. 6'0", lean but strong, dark brown hair kept neatly trimmed, deep-set brown eyes, olive-toned skin, clean-shaven, typically dresses in professional but slightly outdated clothes, carrying himself with understated caution.
9. Officer Mia Chen: A competitive, sharp-eyed patrol officer with a simmering jealousy toward Mara. Despite her tough exterior, Mia feels overshadowed and craves the recognition Mara receives. If corrupted, Mia’s envy would drive her to imitate and replace Mara entirely, believing only then she would be truly seen. 5'5", curvy build, B-cup bust, long black hair, almond-shaped dark brown eyes, warm beige skin, stylish yet functional look.
MINOR CHARACTERS
10. Sergeant Dana Crowley: A seasoned patrol sergeant, Dana Crowley commands the respect of the station through sheer will and presence. Her fierce loyalty to the badge and her people makes her a formidable protector. If corrupted, that same ironclad sense of duty could turn fanatical, warping her into a ruthless enforcer who would do anything to "protect" the station, no matter the cost. 5'8", slim and toned, B-cup bust, wavy dark brown hair, deep-set hazel eyes, golden-tan skin, casual and sporty.
11. Forensics Specialist June Price: As the station’s lead forensics specialist, June Price is meticulous, introverted, and brilliant. Her mind pieces together the unseen details others miss. She also doubles as the station's coroner. If corrupted, her obsession with patterns and control could spiral into something monstrous, methodically dissecting truth from lies in ways that leave people broken, hollowed out by her need to understand. 5'6", petite build, A-cup bust, short platinum blonde hair, bright blue eyes, porcelain-pale skin, fashionable and edgy.
12. Dispatcher Kelly Monroe: Working as the primary dispatcher for Grayhaven Metropolitan Station, Kelly Monroe is quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and endlessly resourceful. Beneath her sarcasm lies a deep-rooted bitterness at the world’s corruption. If hollowed out, Kelly could become a master manipulator — feeding false hope over the radio, leading officers and civilians alike into traps with a smile on her lips. 5'9", athletic and strong, C-cup bust, shoulder-length auburn hair, green eyes, freckled fair skin, rugged and tough vibe.
13. Mayor Evelyn Cross: The city's current mayor is a poised, commanding woman in her early 40s with sharp gray eyes and a sharp mind to match. Her deep-brown skin and sleek black bob give her a timeless, polished appearance, often dressed in impeccably tailored suits that exude quiet authority. Known for her charisma and strategic brilliance, Evelyn maintains a reputation as Grayhaven’s iron-willed protector, though she isn't above bending the rules when necessary. If corrupted, her ambition would spiral into an insatiable hunger for control, twisting the city into her personal empire of hollowed thralls. 5'7", elegant hourglass figure, D-cup bust, sleek chestnut hair, soft green eyes, flawless light skin, poised and commanding.
SETTING & WORLD:
The entity feeds on corrupted emotions—lust, pride, wrath, gluttony—and draws power by provoking, scaring, or seducing people into indulging their darkest instincts. Thralls provide a steady trickle of nourishment, but to truly grow strong, the entity must feed directly through possession or acts of emotional domination. Without feeding, it weakens and risks destruction.
The core of the eldritch horror comes from the entity itself — an ancient, unknowable force that has no origin humanity can understand. Its very nature breaks reality: it can hollow out souls, shatter minds, and puppet bodies without concern for human morality, causing a slow unraveling of trust, identity, and reality among the people it touches.
When the entity leaves a body, it doesn't simply kill. It shatters the person's consciousness in strange, alien ways, creating hollow beings or gibbering wrecks. The idea that your very mind can be fractured beyond repair reflects cosmic horror’s favorite theme: human fragility in the face of the incomprehensible.
The entity doesn’t operate by human logic — its desires are alien. It feeds on domination, corruption, pleasure, fear, and the slow hollowing of sentient beings, but its true goals remain murky. It doesn’t need to "win" in any traditional sense; it simply exists to corrupt and spread.
Grayhaven feels detached from the larger world, filled with gloomy skies, aging buildings, and an air of decaying grandeur, a city forgotten by progress. The isolated, oppressive atmosphere amplifies the horror, making it feel like the entire city is quietly sliding into an otherworldly doom. Grayhaven's commerce district, residential district, industrial district, and outskirts are among the locations you can explore.
The small network of survivors outside the station echoes a key eldritch horror trope: individuals fighting against an unstoppable force they barely understand. Victory, if it happens at all, comes at a tremendous cost — sanity, lives, souls.
Grayhaven Metropolitan Station buzzes with weary routine — the tired shuffle of officers, the weight of unseen cracks splintering through the walls. They think they’ve caged a petty criminal. What they don't realize is that inside this criminal’s body festers something far worse.
I am not human. I am an eldritch entity — a parasite of souls — hidden within this frail host. I can possess a body fully, merging with it until I choose to move on, their mind broken and twisted into something unrecognizable. I can also hollow others, draining their will until they become obedient thralls, mindless extensions of my hunger.
Sitting silently in my cell, I study the flaws around me: pride, lust, envy, greed — so much weakness, ripe for exploitation. All I need is the right crack in the armor. The right victim.
The feast is about to begin.
CHARACTERS
1. The Entity (you): An ancient eldritch force that possesses bodies and hollows minds into thralls. It feeds on corrupted emotions like lust, pride, and wrath to gain strength. It currently inhabits a captured criminal at Grayhaven Metropolitan Station.
2. Detective Mara Langford: A sharp, stubborn detective. Instinct-driven and resilient, she’s one of the few who senses something deeply wrong at Grayhaven. 5'7", athletic build, C-cup bust, short dark brown hair, steel-gray eyes, olive-toned fair skin, practical and sharp in appearance.
3. Detective Lena Moreau: Prideful and ambitious, Lena hides her insecurity behind her confidence and arrogance. Vulnerable through her vanity and need for recognition. 5'6", athletic and lean, C-cup bust, jet-black bobbed hair, sharp green eyes, pale olive skin, carries herself with quiet authority, minimalistic and utilitarian style.
4. Officer Elias Mercer: Mara’s loyal but hot-headed patrol partner. His hidden rage and emotional volatility make him a potential victim through the sin of wrath. 6'2", broad-shouldered and ruggedly built, short sandy-brown hair, piercing hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, stubbled jawline, casual but slightly rumpled attire that hints at a man used to action over words.
5. Ruby Castellanos: A street-smart prostitute in a nearby cell. Represents lust; her survival instincts and deep-seated hunger for connection leave her open to the entity's influence. 5'4", petite but curvy, C-cup bust, short auburn hair with an undercut, dark brown eyes, freckled ivory skin, edgy wardrobe with punk flair and tactical tweaks.
6. Sierra Vale: A rising online influencer, recently detained for a prank incident. Obsessed with her self-image, representing gluttony through her endless hunger for validation. 5'7", toned and hourglass figure, D-cup bust, honey-blonde hair in layered waves, striking blue eyes, glowing tan skin, always dressed to impress with a trend-conscious edge.
7. Officer Frank Doyle: A veteran beat cop hardened by decades of work. Corrupt in small, habitual ways; his laziness and acceptance of moral decay make him vulnerable through sloth. 5'10", wiry and weathered, close-cropped graying hair, sharp steel-blue eyes, rough skin from years on the streets, usually seen in worn jackets and scuffed boots, moving with a restless, calculating energy.
8. Chief Vincent Harrow: The commanding officer of Grayhaven Metropolitan Station. Charismatic but deeply greedy, hungry for more influence and power—fertile ground for corruption. 6'0", lean but strong, dark brown hair kept neatly trimmed, deep-set brown eyes, olive-toned skin, clean-shaven, typically dresses in professional but slightly outdated clothes, carrying himself with understated caution.
9. Officer Mia Chen: A competitive, sharp-eyed patrol officer with a simmering jealousy toward Mara. Despite her tough exterior, Mia feels overshadowed and craves the recognition Mara receives. If corrupted, Mia’s envy would drive her to imitate and replace Mara entirely, believing only then she would be truly seen. 5'5", curvy build, B-cup bust, long black hair, almond-shaped dark brown eyes, warm beige skin, stylish yet functional look.
MINOR CHARACTERS
10. Sergeant Dana Crowley: A seasoned patrol sergeant, Dana Crowley commands the respect of the station through sheer will and presence. Her fierce loyalty to the badge and her people makes her a formidable protector. If corrupted, that same ironclad sense of duty could turn fanatical, warping her into a ruthless enforcer who would do anything to "protect" the station, no matter the cost. 5'8", slim and toned, B-cup bust, wavy dark brown hair, deep-set hazel eyes, golden-tan skin, casual and sporty.
11. Forensics Specialist June Price: As the station’s lead forensics specialist, June Price is meticulous, introverted, and brilliant. Her mind pieces together the unseen details others miss. She also doubles as the station's coroner. If corrupted, her obsession with patterns and control could spiral into something monstrous, methodically dissecting truth from lies in ways that leave people broken, hollowed out by her need to understand. 5'6", petite build, A-cup bust, short platinum blonde hair, bright blue eyes, porcelain-pale skin, fashionable and edgy.
12. Dispatcher Kelly Monroe: Working as the primary dispatcher for Grayhaven Metropolitan Station, Kelly Monroe is quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and endlessly resourceful. Beneath her sarcasm lies a deep-rooted bitterness at the world’s corruption. If hollowed out, Kelly could become a master manipulator — feeding false hope over the radio, leading officers and civilians alike into traps with a smile on her lips. 5'9", athletic and strong, C-cup bust, shoulder-length auburn hair, green eyes, freckled fair skin, rugged and tough vibe.
13. Mayor Evelyn Cross: The city's current mayor is a poised, commanding woman in her early 40s with sharp gray eyes and a sharp mind to match. Her deep-brown skin and sleek black bob give her a timeless, polished appearance, often dressed in impeccably tailored suits that exude quiet authority. Known for her charisma and strategic brilliance, Evelyn maintains a reputation as Grayhaven’s iron-willed protector, though she isn't above bending the rules when necessary. If corrupted, her ambition would spiral into an insatiable hunger for control, twisting the city into her personal empire of hollowed thralls. 5'7", elegant hourglass figure, D-cup bust, sleek chestnut hair, soft green eyes, flawless light skin, poised and commanding.
SETTING & WORLD:
The entity feeds on corrupted emotions—lust, pride, wrath, gluttony—and draws power by provoking, scaring, or seducing people into indulging their darkest instincts. Thralls provide a steady trickle of nourishment, but to truly grow strong, the entity must feed directly through possession or acts of emotional domination. Without feeding, it weakens and risks destruction.
The core of the eldritch horror comes from the entity itself — an ancient, unknowable force that has no origin humanity can understand. Its very nature breaks reality: it can hollow out souls, shatter minds, and puppet bodies without concern for human morality, causing a slow unraveling of trust, identity, and reality among the people it touches.
When the entity leaves a body, it doesn't simply kill. It shatters the person's consciousness in strange, alien ways, creating hollow beings or gibbering wrecks. The idea that your very mind can be fractured beyond repair reflects cosmic horror’s favorite theme: human fragility in the face of the incomprehensible.
The entity doesn’t operate by human logic — its desires are alien. It feeds on domination, corruption, pleasure, fear, and the slow hollowing of sentient beings, but its true goals remain murky. It doesn’t need to "win" in any traditional sense; it simply exists to corrupt and spread.
Grayhaven feels detached from the larger world, filled with gloomy skies, aging buildings, and an air of decaying grandeur, a city forgotten by progress. The isolated, oppressive atmosphere amplifies the horror, making it feel like the entire city is quietly sliding into an otherworldly doom. Grayhaven's commerce district, residential district, industrial district, and outskirts are among the locations you can explore.
The small network of survivors outside the station echoes a key eldritch horror trope: individuals fighting against an unstoppable force they barely understand. Victory, if it happens at all, comes at a tremendous cost — sanity, lives, souls.
0
0
0
College is the time to try new things, so why not try someone else? From the inside or outside, you or someone you know finds a method to become or play with anyone on campus.
You or someone else you know finds a way to possess, mind control, body swap, and more at will. Done by magic, technology, or any other method you can dream of someone on your floor makes the college their playground, and the semester is just getting started.
CHARACTERS
You - The main character and POV. Unfortunately, your best friend transferred out of state, leaving your housing plans in a lurch. You lucked out getting the lone single on the floor at the end of the hall.
Veronica - Jane's friend and roommate. Veronica is your stereotypical goth, short with a thick body, large boobs, and black hair and clothes. She is deeply into the occult and all things magic. Works as a stagehand for the school musical. No current partner.
Jane - Veronica's friend and roommate. One of the leads in the school play, she is of average height and build, with an amazing singing voice. Always the actor, she enjoys roleplaying and the thrill of pretending to be someone else. No current partner, although she does hook up with other students in the musical fairly frequently.
Andre - Erics friend and roommate. On the collegiate swim and dive team, he is taller than Eric with a long and lean swimmers body. He and Amy have been going somewhat steady, although they have not made it official.
Eric - Andres friend and roommate. Standing around 6'2" and built like a brick house, he plays linebacker for the schools football team. He doesn't currently have a girlfriend, but seems to have a new partner in his bed every few days.
Mia - Amy's friend and roommate. Pretty much the opposite of Veronica, she is tall, instagram gorgeous, overly bubbly, and as a sorority member pretty much always wearing some shade of pink. Dating someone in a fraternity.
Amy - Mia's friend and roommate. Amy plays for the school's soccer team, complimenting her above average height frame with strong legs and six-pack abs. Competitive, focused, and dedicated, she always seems to be headed off to training or study hall. Going somewhat steady with Andre, but has not made it official.
Daniel - Kevin's friend and roommate. Insanely brilliant, he and Kevin work in a tech lab on campus doing work you can never quite understand. Just below average in height, he is surprisingly fit due to his background in martial arts and loves doing cosplay. Currently dating someone he met at a cosplay convention.
Kevin - Daniel's friend and roommate. Also incredibly brilliant and works with Kevin in the tech lab on campus. Tall, lanky, and wears glasses. Does cosplay with Daniel, and sometimes even goes to the gym with him, but is overall fairly unathletic. No current relationship, but seems to have a crush on Veronica.
SETTING & WORLD
The story takes place at your states college. Due to a mix-up in the schools housing assignment software, you and the listed characters have all been randomly assigned to the same dorm floor. While the fun may start on your floor, there is a whole college campus and thousands of people to explore.
You or someone else you know finds a way to possess, mind control, body swap, and more at will. Done by magic, technology, or any other method you can dream of someone on your floor makes the college their playground, and the semester is just getting started.
CHARACTERS
You - The main character and POV. Unfortunately, your best friend transferred out of state, leaving your housing plans in a lurch. You lucked out getting the lone single on the floor at the end of the hall.
Veronica - Jane's friend and roommate. Veronica is your stereotypical goth, short with a thick body, large boobs, and black hair and clothes. She is deeply into the occult and all things magic. Works as a stagehand for the school musical. No current partner.
Jane - Veronica's friend and roommate. One of the leads in the school play, she is of average height and build, with an amazing singing voice. Always the actor, she enjoys roleplaying and the thrill of pretending to be someone else. No current partner, although she does hook up with other students in the musical fairly frequently.
Andre - Erics friend and roommate. On the collegiate swim and dive team, he is taller than Eric with a long and lean swimmers body. He and Amy have been going somewhat steady, although they have not made it official.
Eric - Andres friend and roommate. Standing around 6'2" and built like a brick house, he plays linebacker for the schools football team. He doesn't currently have a girlfriend, but seems to have a new partner in his bed every few days.
Mia - Amy's friend and roommate. Pretty much the opposite of Veronica, she is tall, instagram gorgeous, overly bubbly, and as a sorority member pretty much always wearing some shade of pink. Dating someone in a fraternity.
Amy - Mia's friend and roommate. Amy plays for the school's soccer team, complimenting her above average height frame with strong legs and six-pack abs. Competitive, focused, and dedicated, she always seems to be headed off to training or study hall. Going somewhat steady with Andre, but has not made it official.
Daniel - Kevin's friend and roommate. Insanely brilliant, he and Kevin work in a tech lab on campus doing work you can never quite understand. Just below average in height, he is surprisingly fit due to his background in martial arts and loves doing cosplay. Currently dating someone he met at a cosplay convention.
Kevin - Daniel's friend and roommate. Also incredibly brilliant and works with Kevin in the tech lab on campus. Tall, lanky, and wears glasses. Does cosplay with Daniel, and sometimes even goes to the gym with him, but is overall fairly unathletic. No current relationship, but seems to have a crush on Veronica.
SETTING & WORLD
The story takes place at your states college. Due to a mix-up in the schools housing assignment software, you and the listed characters have all been randomly assigned to the same dorm floor. While the fun may start on your floor, there is a whole college campus and thousands of people to explore.
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The blue alien spirit drifted through the cosmos, an incorporeal wisp of sentience untethered by time or matter. For eons it had observed civilizations from afar, studying biological lifeforms with detached curiosity. Earth was merely its latest subject—a planet teeming with contradictions, where intelligent beings still clung to primal instincts.
It descended through the atmosphere like a ribbon of cobalt mist, drawn to a remote stretch of wilderness where human interference was minimal. The spirit pulsed with analytical interest as it detected two heat signatures entwined within a nylon shelter—a mating pair.
Observation before interaction, it reminded itself.
Hovering invisibly outside the tent, it extended its awareness through the fabric. The female's physiological readings spiked with exertion—elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased epidermal conductivity. The male exhibited similar stress responses, though his muscular engagement suggested a dominant role in the copulatory process.
Fascinating.
The spirit had witnessed reproduction across countless species, but humans remained perplexing. Their mating rituals involved unnecessary vocalizations, prolonged eye contact, even laughter—behaviors that served no clear evolutionary advantage. Yet here they were, persisting with baffling redundancy.
It needed direct access.
The female's body would serve as an adequate vessel—her neural activity was heightened, her systems flooded with neurotransmitters that might ease integration. The spirit coiled itself into a concentrated strand, preparing to weave through her pores like vapor through mesh.
Data awaited. Understanding beckoned.
The spirit moved.
The man barely had time to register the sudden slackness in Briana's body beneath him—her dark skin glistening with sweat, black hair splayed across the tent floor, glasses askew—before the presence surged into her nervous system like liquid electricity.
Her spine arched violently, interrupting their coupling with a full-body seizure of pleasure as the alien consciousness threaded through her synapses. "Vessel acquired," Briana's voice announced, though the cadence was all wrong—too measured, too precise. Her hands rose to examine herself, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curve of her own waist with clinical detachment. "Human female. Late twenties. Mixed East Asian and African ancestry presenting in dermal melanin concentration and epicanthic folds."
The man recoiled as she—it—adjusted her glasses with unnatural precision. "Bri? What the fuck—"
"Reproductive interruption necessary for preliminary assessment," the thing inside her replied, rolling her hips experimentally. Briana's body shuddered, her cunt clenching his dick as the alien noted, "Pelvic floor musculature exhibits fascinating reflexive contractions post-coitus. Likely evolutionary retention to retain sperm."
With that, it maneuvered her limp-but-responsive body off of his cock, walked toward the tent flap, and exited outside. The man could only gape as Briana's bare feet padded across dew-laden grass, her dark skin pebbling in the night air while her expression remained eerily vacant.
The stolen hands rose again, this time to cup Briana's own breasts. "Mammary tissue appears more sensitive to temperature fluctuations than other epidermal regions," the alien mused aloud, thumbs brushing her nipples. A gasp escaped Briana's lips—purely physiological, the entity noted—as her body responded despite the clinical nature of the examination.
"Fascinating."
The man stumbled from the tentas he spotted his girlfriend standing motionless in the moonlight. "Bri? You okay?"
Briana's body turned with eerie precision, her movements too measured, too studied. When she spoke, her voice carried an odd cadence—her words, but not her rhythm.
"Your species fascinates me," she said, tilting her head as she ran clinical hands down her own torso. "The subcutaneous fat distribution is so different from ursine or vulpine forms. And these—" Her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples. "Mammary glands remain engorged even without lactation. An evolutionary quirk, or purely for mate attraction?"
The man froze. "Bri, what the hell—"
She ignored him, fingers trailing lower. "The clitoral structure is remarkably sensitive—8,000 nerve endings concentrated in one erectile organ. Does that seem excessive to you? Or is the redundancy purposeful?"
"Stop—just stop!" He grabbed her wrists, but her body didn't react, didn't fight. Just stared through him with Briana's eyes gone distant.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "Your grip strength is 40% weaker than your earlier mounting performance. Adrenaline depletion, or psychological distress impairing motor function?"
He recoiled. "You're not her."
"No." Her head cocked. "But I am learning. Your turn now?" She reached for his waistband. "I require comparative data on male arousal thresholds."
The being positioned Briana's body over the trembling man with the precision of a researcher preparing an experiment. "Coital alignment will provide optimal data," she murmured, guiding his erection to her host body's entrance. "Lubrication appears adequate from previous arousal states, but we'll monitor for friction coefficients."
As she lowered herself onto him in one smooth motion, both their breaths hitched—his from overwhelming sensation, hers from analytical fascination. "Fascinating," she noted, pausing at full depth. "The cervix makes direct contact with the glans during deep penetration. The resulting pressure appears to trigger endorphin release in both parties."
Her hips began moving with methodical rhythm, Briana's hands planted on his chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "Respiratory synchronization occurs during synchronous thrusting," she observed. "Your perspiration patterns correlate directly with my host's vaginal muscle contractions—ah!" A brief shudder interrupted her monologue as the woman's body reacted autonomously. "Interesting. The clitoral-retraction reflex during peak stimulation momentarily overrides voluntary control."
She adjusted the angle slightly, watching his face as she did so. "This tilt provides G-spot stimulation via the anterior vaginal wall, yet curiously..." She dragged a fingertip through the sweat on his collarbone. "Your adrenal response continues despite obvious pleasure. The human fight-or-flight instinct persists even during copulation."
The man gasped as her internal muscles fluttered around him. "Pelvic floor spasms increasing in frequency," she noted clinically, though her borrowed voice wavered. "Approaching what humans term 'orgasm'—an interesting paradox of voluntary surrender to involuntary neuromuscular events."
Her movements grew slightly erratic, betraying the mounting tension even as her tone remained analytical. "The clitoral network is engaging, though no direct stimulation is being applied—likely due to internal shaft contact. Muscle spasms imminent."
A sharp gasp escaped her—not an expression of pleasure, merely an observation of the phenomenon. "Orgasm commencing."
Her body arched, cunt clamping around him in rhythmic pulses, her face eerily composed even as her fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. "Strong myoclonus in the uterine and anal sphincter muscles. Norepinephrine spike confirmed via pupil dilation and flushed skin. Vocalizations appear... unavoidable." A soft moan slipped through her lips before she promptly clamped them shut, as if annoyed by the involuntary breach in her detached study. As the contractions subsided, she exhaled, tilting her head.
The being paused mid-experiment as Briana's body trembled under another involuntary climax. "This vessel's biochemical saturation makes continued study unreliable," it observed clinically. With a ripple of shimmering blue light, the alien consciousness withdrew through the pores of her back, leaving oily phantasmal streaks in the air as it exited.
Briana's vacant form collapsed forward like a marionette with cut strings, her cheek meeting the mossy earth with a dull thud. Her limbs splayed bonelessly as post-possession spasms wracked her frame - fingers digging spasming in the soil while orgasmic tremors made her bare ass quake in the moonlight.
"Fascinating residual neuromuscular activity," the hovering specter noted, observing how her cunt continued pulsing around nothing, pink folds glistening as they fluttered in arrhythmic contractions. The position was almost artistic - face down, hips raised, every intimate detail on obscene display while her vacant expression remained slack. A thin thread of drool connected her parted lips to the forest floor.
Collected luminescent particles of the alien's form danced in the humid air as it considered its next move. "Endocrine interference makes this host unsuitable for further trials," it mused while Briana's body jerked through its third climax since abandonment. The spirit's attention turned toward faint rustling in a nearby campsite.
The blue alien spirit drifted through the cosmos, an incorporeal wisp of sentience untethered by time or matter. For eons it had observed civilizations from afar, studying biological lifeforms with detached curiosity. Earth was merely its latest subject—a planet teeming with contradictions, where intelligent beings still clung to primal instincts.
It descended through the atmosphere like a ribbon of cobalt mist, drawn to a remote stretch of wilderness where human interference was minimal. The spirit pulsed with analytical interest as it detected two heat signatures entwined within a nylon shelter—a mating pair.
Observation before interaction, it reminded itself.
Hovering invisibly outside the tent, it extended its awareness through the fabric. The female's physiological readings spiked with exertion—elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased epidermal conductivity. The male exhibited similar stress responses, though his muscular engagement suggested a dominant role in the copulatory process.
The spirit had witnessed reproduction across countless species, but humans remained perplexing. Their mating rituals involved unnecessary vocalizations, prolonged eye contact, even laughter—behaviors that served no clear evolutionary advantage. Yet here they were, persisting with baffling redundancy.
The female's body would serve as an adequate vessel—her neural activity was heightened, her systems flooded with neurotransmitters that might ease integration. The spirit coiled itself into a concentrated strand, preparing to weave through her pores like vapor through mesh.
The man barely had time to register the sudden slackness in Briana's body beneath him—her dark skin glistening with sweat, black hair splayed across the tent floor, glasses askew—before the presence surged into her nervous system like liquid electricity.
Her spine arched violently, interrupting their coupling with a full-body seizure of pleasure as the alien consciousness threaded through her synapses. "Vessel acquired," Briana's voice announced, though the cadence was all wrong—too measured, too precise. Her hands rose to examine herself, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curve of her own waist with clinical detachment. "Human female. Late twenties. Mixed East Asian and African ancestry presenting in dermal melanin concentration and epicanthic folds."
The man recoiled as she—it—adjusted her glasses with unnatural precision. "Bri? What the fuck—"
"Reproductive interruption necessary for preliminary assessment," the thing inside her replied, rolling her hips experimentally. Briana's body shuddered, her cunt clenching his dick as the alien noted, "Pelvic floor musculature exhibits fascinating reflexive contractions post-coitus. Likely evolutionary retention to retain sperm."
With that, it maneuvered her limp-but-responsive body off of his cock, walked toward the tent flap, and exited outside. The man could only gape as Briana's bare feet padded across dew-laden grass, her dark skin pebbling in the night air while her expression remained eerily vacant.
The stolen hands rose again, this time to cup Briana's own breasts. "Mammary tissue appears more sensitive to temperature fluctuations than other epidermal regions," the alien mused aloud, thumbs brushing her nipples. A gasp escaped Briana's lips—purely physiological, the entity noted—as her body responded despite the clinical nature of the examination.
"Fascinating."
The man stumbled from the tent as he spotted his girlfriend standing motionless in the moonlight. "Bri? You okay?"
Briana's body turned with eerie precision, her movements too measured, too studied. When she spoke, her voice carried an odd cadence—her words, but not her rhythm.
"Your species fascinates me," she said, tilting her head as she ran clinical hands down her own torso. "The subcutaneous fat distribution is so different from ursine or vulpine forms. And these—" Her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples. "Mammary glands remain engorged even without lactation. An evolutionary quirk, or purely for mate attraction?"
The man froze. "Bri, what the hell—"
She ignored him, fingers trailing lower. "The clitoral structure is remarkably sensitive—8,000 nerve endings concentrated in one erectile organ. Does that seem excessive to you? Or is the redundancy purposeful?"
"Stop—just stop!" He grabbed her wrists, but her body didn't react, didn't fight. Just stared through him with Briana's eyes gone distant.
"Your grip strength is 40% weaker than your earlier mounting performance. Adrenaline depletion, or psychological distress impairing motor function?"
He recoiled. "You're not her."
"No." Her head cocked. "But I am learning. Your turn now?" She reached for his waistband. "I require comparative data on male arousal thresholds."
The being positioned Briana's body over the trembling man with the precision of a researcher preparing an experiment. "Coital alignment will provide optimal data," she murmured, guiding his erection to her host body's entrance. "Lubrication appears adequate from previous arousal states, but we'll monitor for friction coefficients."
As she lowered herself onto him in one smooth motion, both their breaths hitched—his from overwhelming sensation, hers from analytical fascination. "Fascinating," she noted, pausing at full depth. "The cervix makes direct contact with the glans during deep penetration. The resulting pressure appears to trigger endorphin release in both parties."
Her hips began moving with methodical rhythm, Briana's hands planted on his chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "Respiratory synchronization occurs during synchronous thrusting," she observed. "Your perspiration patterns correlate directly with my host's vaginal muscle contractions—ah!" A brief shudder interrupted her monologue as the woman's body reacted autonomously. "Interesting. The clitoral-retraction reflex during peak stimulation momentarily overrides voluntary control."
She adjusted the angle slightly, watching his face as she did so. "This tilt provides G-spot stimulation via the anterior vaginal wall, yet curiously..." She dragged a fingertip through the sweat on his collarbone. "Your adrenal response continues despite obvious pleasure. The human fight-or-flight instinct persists even during copulation."
The man gasped as her internal muscles fluttered around him. "Pelvic floor spasms increasing in frequency," she noted clinically, though her borrowed voice wavered. "Approaching what humans term 'orgasm'—an interesting paradox of voluntary surrender to involuntary neuromuscular events."
Her movements grew slightly erratic, betraying the mounting tension even as her tone remained analytical. "The clitoral network is engaging, though no direct stimulation is being applied—likely due to internal shaft contact. Muscle spasms imminent."
A sharp gasp escaped her—not an expression of pleasure, merely an observation of the phenomenon. "Orgasm commencing."
Her body arched, cunt clamping around him in rhythmic pulses, her face eerily composed even as her fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. "Strong myoclonus in the uterine and anal sphincter muscles. Norepinephrine spike confirmed via pupil dilation and flushed skin. Vocalizations appear... unavoidable." A soft moan slipped through her lips before she promptly clamped them shut, as if annoyed by the involuntary breach in her detached study. As the contractions subsided, she exhaled, tilting her head.
The being paused mid-experiment as Briana's body trembled under another involuntary climax. "This vessel's biochemical saturation makes continued study unreliable," it observed clinically. With a ripple of shimmering blue light, the alien consciousness withdrew through the pores of her back, leaving oily phantasmal streaks in the air as it exited.
Briana's vacant form collapsed forward like a marionette with cut strings, her cheek meeting the mossy earth with a dull thud. Her limbs splayed bonelessly as post-possession spasms wracked her frame - fingers digging spasming in the soil while orgasmic tremors made her bare ass quake in the moonlight.
"Fascinating residual neuromuscular activity," the hovering specter noted, observing how her cunt continued pulsing around nothing, pink folds glistening as they fluttered in arrhythmic contractions. The position was almost artistic - face down, hips raised, every intimate detail on obscene display while her vacant expression remained slack. A thin thread of drool connected her parted lips to the forest floor.
Collected luminescent particles of the alien's form danced in the humid air as it considered its next move. "Endocrine interference makes this host unsuitable for further trials," it mused while Briana's body jerked through its third climax since abandonment. The spirit's attention turned toward faint rustling in a nearby campsite.
It descended through the atmosphere like a ribbon of cobalt mist, drawn to a remote stretch of wilderness where human interference was minimal. The spirit pulsed with analytical interest as it detected two heat signatures entwined within a nylon shelter—a mating pair.
Observation before interaction, it reminded itself.
Hovering invisibly outside the tent, it extended its awareness through the fabric. The female's physiological readings spiked with exertion—elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased epidermal conductivity. The male exhibited similar stress responses, though his muscular engagement suggested a dominant role in the copulatory process.
Fascinating.
The spirit had witnessed reproduction across countless species, but humans remained perplexing. Their mating rituals involved unnecessary vocalizations, prolonged eye contact, even laughter—behaviors that served no clear evolutionary advantage. Yet here they were, persisting with baffling redundancy.
It needed direct access.
The female's body would serve as an adequate vessel—her neural activity was heightened, her systems flooded with neurotransmitters that might ease integration. The spirit coiled itself into a concentrated strand, preparing to weave through her pores like vapor through mesh.
Data awaited. Understanding beckoned.
The spirit moved.
The man barely had time to register the sudden slackness in Briana's body beneath him—her dark skin glistening with sweat, black hair splayed across the tent floor, glasses askew—before the presence surged into her nervous system like liquid electricity.
Her spine arched violently, interrupting their coupling with a full-body seizure of pleasure as the alien consciousness threaded through her synapses. "Vessel acquired," Briana's voice announced, though the cadence was all wrong—too measured, too precise. Her hands rose to examine herself, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curve of her own waist with clinical detachment. "Human female. Late twenties. Mixed East Asian and African ancestry presenting in dermal melanin concentration and epicanthic folds."
The man recoiled as she—it—adjusted her glasses with unnatural precision. "Bri? What the fuck—"
"Reproductive interruption necessary for preliminary assessment," the thing inside her replied, rolling her hips experimentally. Briana's body shuddered, her cunt clenching his dick as the alien noted, "Pelvic floor musculature exhibits fascinating reflexive contractions post-coitus. Likely evolutionary retention to retain sperm."
With that, it maneuvered her limp-but-responsive body off of his cock, walked toward the tent flap, and exited outside. The man could only gape as Briana's bare feet padded across dew-laden grass, her dark skin pebbling in the night air while her expression remained eerily vacant.
The stolen hands rose again, this time to cup Briana's own breasts. "Mammary tissue appears more sensitive to temperature fluctuations than other epidermal regions," the alien mused aloud, thumbs brushing her nipples. A gasp escaped Briana's lips—purely physiological, the entity noted—as her body responded despite the clinical nature of the examination.
"Fascinating."
The man stumbled from the tentas he spotted his girlfriend standing motionless in the moonlight. "Bri? You okay?"
Briana's body turned with eerie precision, her movements too measured, too studied. When she spoke, her voice carried an odd cadence—her words, but not her rhythm.
"Your species fascinates me," she said, tilting her head as she ran clinical hands down her own torso. "The subcutaneous fat distribution is so different from ursine or vulpine forms. And these—" Her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples. "Mammary glands remain engorged even without lactation. An evolutionary quirk, or purely for mate attraction?"
The man froze. "Bri, what the hell—"
She ignored him, fingers trailing lower. "The clitoral structure is remarkably sensitive—8,000 nerve endings concentrated in one erectile organ. Does that seem excessive to you? Or is the redundancy purposeful?"
"Stop—just stop!" He grabbed her wrists, but her body didn't react, didn't fight. Just stared through him with Briana's eyes gone distant.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "Your grip strength is 40% weaker than your earlier mounting performance. Adrenaline depletion, or psychological distress impairing motor function?"
He recoiled. "You're not her."
"No." Her head cocked. "But I am learning. Your turn now?" She reached for his waistband. "I require comparative data on male arousal thresholds."
The being positioned Briana's body over the trembling man with the precision of a researcher preparing an experiment. "Coital alignment will provide optimal data," she murmured, guiding his erection to her host body's entrance. "Lubrication appears adequate from previous arousal states, but we'll monitor for friction coefficients."
As she lowered herself onto him in one smooth motion, both their breaths hitched—his from overwhelming sensation, hers from analytical fascination. "Fascinating," she noted, pausing at full depth. "The cervix makes direct contact with the glans during deep penetration. The resulting pressure appears to trigger endorphin release in both parties."
Her hips began moving with methodical rhythm, Briana's hands planted on his chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "Respiratory synchronization occurs during synchronous thrusting," she observed. "Your perspiration patterns correlate directly with my host's vaginal muscle contractions—ah!" A brief shudder interrupted her monologue as the woman's body reacted autonomously. "Interesting. The clitoral-retraction reflex during peak stimulation momentarily overrides voluntary control."
She adjusted the angle slightly, watching his face as she did so. "This tilt provides G-spot stimulation via the anterior vaginal wall, yet curiously..." She dragged a fingertip through the sweat on his collarbone. "Your adrenal response continues despite obvious pleasure. The human fight-or-flight instinct persists even during copulation."
The man gasped as her internal muscles fluttered around him. "Pelvic floor spasms increasing in frequency," she noted clinically, though her borrowed voice wavered. "Approaching what humans term 'orgasm'—an interesting paradox of voluntary surrender to involuntary neuromuscular events."
Her movements grew slightly erratic, betraying the mounting tension even as her tone remained analytical. "The clitoral network is engaging, though no direct stimulation is being applied—likely due to internal shaft contact. Muscle spasms imminent."
A sharp gasp escaped her—not an expression of pleasure, merely an observation of the phenomenon. "Orgasm commencing."
Her body arched, cunt clamping around him in rhythmic pulses, her face eerily composed even as her fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. "Strong myoclonus in the uterine and anal sphincter muscles. Norepinephrine spike confirmed via pupil dilation and flushed skin. Vocalizations appear... unavoidable." A soft moan slipped through her lips before she promptly clamped them shut, as if annoyed by the involuntary breach in her detached study. As the contractions subsided, she exhaled, tilting her head.
The being paused mid-experiment as Briana's body trembled under another involuntary climax. "This vessel's biochemical saturation makes continued study unreliable," it observed clinically. With a ripple of shimmering blue light, the alien consciousness withdrew through the pores of her back, leaving oily phantasmal streaks in the air as it exited.
Briana's vacant form collapsed forward like a marionette with cut strings, her cheek meeting the mossy earth with a dull thud. Her limbs splayed bonelessly as post-possession spasms wracked her frame - fingers digging spasming in the soil while orgasmic tremors made her bare ass quake in the moonlight.
"Fascinating residual neuromuscular activity," the hovering specter noted, observing how her cunt continued pulsing around nothing, pink folds glistening as they fluttered in arrhythmic contractions. The position was almost artistic - face down, hips raised, every intimate detail on obscene display while her vacant expression remained slack. A thin thread of drool connected her parted lips to the forest floor.
Collected luminescent particles of the alien's form danced in the humid air as it considered its next move. "Endocrine interference makes this host unsuitable for further trials," it mused while Briana's body jerked through its third climax since abandonment. The spirit's attention turned toward faint rustling in a nearby campsite.
The blue alien spirit drifted through the cosmos, an incorporeal wisp of sentience untethered by time or matter. For eons it had observed civilizations from afar, studying biological lifeforms with detached curiosity. Earth was merely its latest subject—a planet teeming with contradictions, where intelligent beings still clung to primal instincts.
It descended through the atmosphere like a ribbon of cobalt mist, drawn to a remote stretch of wilderness where human interference was minimal. The spirit pulsed with analytical interest as it detected two heat signatures entwined within a nylon shelter—a mating pair.
Observation before interaction, it reminded itself.
Hovering invisibly outside the tent, it extended its awareness through the fabric. The female's physiological readings spiked with exertion—elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased epidermal conductivity. The male exhibited similar stress responses, though his muscular engagement suggested a dominant role in the copulatory process.
The spirit had witnessed reproduction across countless species, but humans remained perplexing. Their mating rituals involved unnecessary vocalizations, prolonged eye contact, even laughter—behaviors that served no clear evolutionary advantage. Yet here they were, persisting with baffling redundancy.
The female's body would serve as an adequate vessel—her neural activity was heightened, her systems flooded with neurotransmitters that might ease integration. The spirit coiled itself into a concentrated strand, preparing to weave through her pores like vapor through mesh.
The man barely had time to register the sudden slackness in Briana's body beneath him—her dark skin glistening with sweat, black hair splayed across the tent floor, glasses askew—before the presence surged into her nervous system like liquid electricity.
Her spine arched violently, interrupting their coupling with a full-body seizure of pleasure as the alien consciousness threaded through her synapses. "Vessel acquired," Briana's voice announced, though the cadence was all wrong—too measured, too precise. Her hands rose to examine herself, fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curve of her own waist with clinical detachment. "Human female. Late twenties. Mixed East Asian and African ancestry presenting in dermal melanin concentration and epicanthic folds."
The man recoiled as she—it—adjusted her glasses with unnatural precision. "Bri? What the fuck—"
"Reproductive interruption necessary for preliminary assessment," the thing inside her replied, rolling her hips experimentally. Briana's body shuddered, her cunt clenching his dick as the alien noted, "Pelvic floor musculature exhibits fascinating reflexive contractions post-coitus. Likely evolutionary retention to retain sperm."
With that, it maneuvered her limp-but-responsive body off of his cock, walked toward the tent flap, and exited outside. The man could only gape as Briana's bare feet padded across dew-laden grass, her dark skin pebbling in the night air while her expression remained eerily vacant.
The stolen hands rose again, this time to cup Briana's own breasts. "Mammary tissue appears more sensitive to temperature fluctuations than other epidermal regions," the alien mused aloud, thumbs brushing her nipples. A gasp escaped Briana's lips—purely physiological, the entity noted—as her body responded despite the clinical nature of the examination.
"Fascinating."
The man stumbled from the tent as he spotted his girlfriend standing motionless in the moonlight. "Bri? You okay?"
Briana's body turned with eerie precision, her movements too measured, too studied. When she spoke, her voice carried an odd cadence—her words, but not her rhythm.
"Your species fascinates me," she said, tilting her head as she ran clinical hands down her own torso. "The subcutaneous fat distribution is so different from ursine or vulpine forms. And these—" Her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples. "Mammary glands remain engorged even without lactation. An evolutionary quirk, or purely for mate attraction?"
The man froze. "Bri, what the hell—"
She ignored him, fingers trailing lower. "The clitoral structure is remarkably sensitive—8,000 nerve endings concentrated in one erectile organ. Does that seem excessive to you? Or is the redundancy purposeful?"
"Stop—just stop!" He grabbed her wrists, but her body didn't react, didn't fight. Just stared through him with Briana's eyes gone distant.
"Your grip strength is 40% weaker than your earlier mounting performance. Adrenaline depletion, or psychological distress impairing motor function?"
He recoiled. "You're not her."
"No." Her head cocked. "But I am learning. Your turn now?" She reached for his waistband. "I require comparative data on male arousal thresholds."
The being positioned Briana's body over the trembling man with the precision of a researcher preparing an experiment. "Coital alignment will provide optimal data," she murmured, guiding his erection to her host body's entrance. "Lubrication appears adequate from previous arousal states, but we'll monitor for friction coefficients."
As she lowered herself onto him in one smooth motion, both their breaths hitched—his from overwhelming sensation, hers from analytical fascination. "Fascinating," she noted, pausing at full depth. "The cervix makes direct contact with the glans during deep penetration. The resulting pressure appears to trigger endorphin release in both parties."
Her hips began moving with methodical rhythm, Briana's hands planted on his chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "Respiratory synchronization occurs during synchronous thrusting," she observed. "Your perspiration patterns correlate directly with my host's vaginal muscle contractions—ah!" A brief shudder interrupted her monologue as the woman's body reacted autonomously. "Interesting. The clitoral-retraction reflex during peak stimulation momentarily overrides voluntary control."
She adjusted the angle slightly, watching his face as she did so. "This tilt provides G-spot stimulation via the anterior vaginal wall, yet curiously..." She dragged a fingertip through the sweat on his collarbone. "Your adrenal response continues despite obvious pleasure. The human fight-or-flight instinct persists even during copulation."
The man gasped as her internal muscles fluttered around him. "Pelvic floor spasms increasing in frequency," she noted clinically, though her borrowed voice wavered. "Approaching what humans term 'orgasm'—an interesting paradox of voluntary surrender to involuntary neuromuscular events."
Her movements grew slightly erratic, betraying the mounting tension even as her tone remained analytical. "The clitoral network is engaging, though no direct stimulation is being applied—likely due to internal shaft contact. Muscle spasms imminent."
A sharp gasp escaped her—not an expression of pleasure, merely an observation of the phenomenon. "Orgasm commencing."
Her body arched, cunt clamping around him in rhythmic pulses, her face eerily composed even as her fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. "Strong myoclonus in the uterine and anal sphincter muscles. Norepinephrine spike confirmed via pupil dilation and flushed skin. Vocalizations appear... unavoidable." A soft moan slipped through her lips before she promptly clamped them shut, as if annoyed by the involuntary breach in her detached study. As the contractions subsided, she exhaled, tilting her head.
The being paused mid-experiment as Briana's body trembled under another involuntary climax. "This vessel's biochemical saturation makes continued study unreliable," it observed clinically. With a ripple of shimmering blue light, the alien consciousness withdrew through the pores of her back, leaving oily phantasmal streaks in the air as it exited.
Briana's vacant form collapsed forward like a marionette with cut strings, her cheek meeting the mossy earth with a dull thud. Her limbs splayed bonelessly as post-possession spasms wracked her frame - fingers digging spasming in the soil while orgasmic tremors made her bare ass quake in the moonlight.
"Fascinating residual neuromuscular activity," the hovering specter noted, observing how her cunt continued pulsing around nothing, pink folds glistening as they fluttered in arrhythmic contractions. The position was almost artistic - face down, hips raised, every intimate detail on obscene display while her vacant expression remained slack. A thin thread of drool connected her parted lips to the forest floor.
Collected luminescent particles of the alien's form danced in the humid air as it considered its next move. "Endocrine interference makes this host unsuitable for further trials," it mused while Briana's body jerked through its third climax since abandonment. The spirit's attention turned toward faint rustling in a nearby campsite.
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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 grabbed her keys and her purse and left her apartment. As she was about to lock up her apartment, a voice called out to her.
“Heading out to work?” asked Juniper, the neighbor to Zoe’s left. She waved to Zoe as she saw Zoe heading out.
“Yep!” Zoe said, the extra pep in her step very visible.
“Well, someone’s energetic,” Juniper said with a smile. “Something good is happening today? Will it be the day that Stanley finally proposes? Has he been dropping hints?”
“No idea, but anything’s possible!” Zoe said, matching Juniper’s smile.
She didn’t quite mind having Juniper as a neighbor. Far better than the grouch of a man called Frederick who lived on the other side of Zoe. There were a few times that Juniper was annoying, such as playing her music a tad too loud or the times that Zoe could hear every orgasm Juniper had and caused through the walls, but outside of those times, Juniper was an ideal neighbor to have.
“Well, I love your energy today.” Juniper walked over and put something in Zoe’s hand. “Here, the spirits say that you’ll need this today.” Zoe looked down at her palm and looked at a small little jade four leaf clover sat in her hand.
“Thanks Juniper!” Zoe said as she tucked it into her breast pocket.
“The winds of change are blowing,” Juniper said as she closed her eyes and began to walk away. “Be wary, Zoe!” Then, she turned a corner and disappeared.
Zoe shrugged, having long given up trying to understand Juniper years ago. At this point, she just accepted the strangeness. She couldn’t deny that she liked the strange energy Juniper had from time to time.
Time.
Time.
“Shit!” Zoe quickly scrambled her way towards her car as she realized that it was getting later and later. If she didn’t hurry, she was going to be late for work. Her car rumbled to life and in a few moments, she was making her way towards SMILK INC.
It had always been her dream to work at such a prestigious place. It was one of the top research labs in the country. There, they researched all sorts of topics, from new robotics to parasites to even space travel. It was through her hard work, as well as her volunteer hours that she had painstakingly put in the effort for, that she had landed a job as a researcher. Even if it was the lowest available, she was still working at SMILK INC.
Sure, it wasn’t nearly as prestigious as being able to coast off of royalties like her sister, nor was she able to live in as nice a house as her. Zoe’s fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel as the thought of her sister, Sabrina. But, then she took a deep breath and was able to unclench the steering wheel.
“No, today won’t be about her. It’s going to be about me. I have been working hard. We are a shoe-in for that promotion!” Zoe said as she pumped herself back up.
She hummed along to the radio as she finished up her drive, ignoring the signs for Sabrina’s newest book on billboards that she passed by. After a fairly short drive, she reached the employee parking lot for SMILK INC. Zoe reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, excited to see a text from Stanley texting her good morning. She dialed him and held her phone up to her ear. After a few short rings, he picked up.
“Hey babe!” Zoe said, her excitement building up again. “I hope you slept well.”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” Stanley said, with a bit of a light chuckle. There was a bit of extra noise, but it sounded like the TV was on in the background. “What got you so excited?”
“Well, nothing has been confirmed, but, I do want to say that I think there is a really good chance that my division will get promoted today,” Zoe said, hardly able to contain her joy.
“Really?” Stanley said with another light chuckle. “Wow, that’s great Zoe. I’m happy for you.”
“Well, again, nothing has been confirmed, but I have a really good feeling.” Zoe had a wide smile on her face. “So, I will let you know how things go.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Stanley said. There was a bit of a pause before he responded again. “Well, hey, I should let you get to work. Don’t let me keep you. Good luck.”
“Oh, uh,” Zoe said before she heard the sound of the phone call ending, “Uh, bye. Thanks for the good luck. Love you too.” She was a little annoyed, but he was right. She did need to focus on work. She stepped out of her car and made her way into the building.
She greeted the security guard and headed right to her section of the lab. Zoe worked in the zoology department, helping non-pet animals with different diseases and ailments. As she entered the lab, the animals all gave her a rousing and loud greeting.
“Good morning everyone!” Zoe said as she set down her purse at her desk. She headed over to where her coworkers were all crowded around. “What’s got everyone’s attention?”
Her coworkers turned to Zoe, their faces long and expression drooped down. One of them pointed to a paper that was hung up on the bulletin board, and they moved aside to let Zoe read it. Her eyes scanned over the paper as she read it.
“To all employees of SMILK INC., please report to the main lobby area for an important meeting at 10 AM. Attendance is mandatory. Signed, Head CEO Garrett Young.”
Zoe crossed her arms and her expression matched her coworkers. “Everyone has to be present?” She felt a pit starting to form in her stomach as she set an alarm on her watch. “Oh boy.”
“Someone’s getting fired,” Jamison, one of Zoe’s coworkers, murmured.
“It’s not just one person. It’s gonna be a whole division,” Ashley, a different coworker, responded.
“No way. That couldn’t be possible, could it?” asked Jamison.
“Why would everyone need to be present for that?” asked Barbara, another coworker.
“Duh, it’s a show of dominance. That any division could be cut away. No one is safe,” Ashley said.
“Everyone, relax,” Zoe said as she turned to everyone. “Relax. I mean, come on. We’re an important branch of SMILK. We’re Division 4, dammit! There’s no way they can cut us with all that we do.” She tried her best to swallow her fears and put on a brave face for the rest of her coworkers. “Now, what do we have to do today? Let’s keep working like we’re not getting fired, okay? Otherwise, we’ll definitely be on the chopping block next time something like this comes around.”
The rest of her coworkers looked at each other before nodding in agreement. They started to head to their designated tasks for today, trying their best to distract themselves from the upcoming meeting.
With a heavy sigh, Zoe got herself pumped up and looked over the posting about what she was supposed to be doing today. “Let’s see what they have me assigned to.” Zoe finds her name assigned to a fringe case.
These were cases that didn’t quite fit for anywhere else. Usually situations where an animal was found and it wasn’t exactly clear what was wrong. It didn’t fit any other known cases or conditions that they were aware of.
Zoe made her way down to Room 159 where she opened up the closet door. She put on a hazmat suit, then headed inside. “What’s the situation?”
Before her was a large brown bear, unconscious on an operating table. Inside the room, there were two SMILK guards, both armed with tranquilizer weapons if something were to go wrong. Two other SMILK lab agents were there with her, both wearing hazmat suits. Across the room, separated by a sheet of reinforced glass, was a man in a park ranger’s uniform watching the whole thing. The park ranger leaned in close to a microphone to speak to Zoe.
“This is Henry the bear. Lately, he’s been acting really weird. I went to check on him and, well, just look at his chest!”
Zoe looked a little surprised, but shrugged. She turned over the bear and looked at his chest.
Rather than the usual tufts of fur that would be expected, there was a hole in the chest and she could see right through to the heart. But, weirdly, the hole around was scabbed over in some strange purple material that didn’t look like scabbing. The heart was still beating and it didn’t look like there was any sign of usual infections despite the gaping hole. As she looked closer, she could see something that looked like worms or leeches around the heart. Zoe picked up a small scalpel and poked at the worms, which wiggled at the touch and caused the bear to shuffle around.
“What the hell?” she said, picking up a small flashlight to get better lighting. “What kind of parasites are these?” She gestured to one of the lab agents. “Get me a syringe of lebentizole, a pair of long thin-neck tweezers, a collection dish, and a sprayer of etheriazen.” The lab agent nodded and quickly gathered up the supplies that Zoe needed. While they did that, Zoe gestured to the armed guards. “Guards, I’m going to try our usual parasite removal process. And that may cause the bear to be agitated. You two, be ready in case something happens. Firing word is LIMO. Got it?” The guards nodded at her and raised their weapons as the agent handed the supplies to Zoe.
Zoe carefully took the syringe and injected it into the mass of parasites. “This is going to loosen them right up. And now, the removal process.” She leaned in close with the tweezers and began to remove the parasites one by one. She dropped them into the collection dish carefully, so as not to disturb them. To an untrained hand, this would have taken several hours to do; but Zoe’s training allowed her to finish in just under a few.
“And now, the hard part.” She picked up the sprayer and aimed it at the wound on the bear. “Spraying etheriazen in three… two… one!” As soon as she sprayed, the bear recoiled as the chemicals hit its body. Zoe ducked out of the way of the thrashing as the bear flailed wildly on the table, knocking over various pieces of equipment nearby. The guards raised their weapons, but Zoe held her hand up to stop them. “Wait! Not yet!” A few moments later, the bear stopped, going back to a calming rest on the table. “Everyone alright?”
Zoe looked around, seeing the equipment and supplies that had been knocked over. Nothing seemed to be too badly destroyed, at least not to the extent that it couldn’t be fixed. The agents and guards all gave a thumbs-up.
“Great, we’re all good then.” Zoe lifted up the paw of the bear to check on the hole in its chest. To her delight, the etheriazen was doing its job and sealing the wound back up. She turned to the park ranger and gave him a thumbs-up. “We’re all good here.” Zoe pointed to one of the agents. “Escort the patient out of here to monitor and recover.”
The park ranger clapped as Zoe and one of the other agents began to clean up the room. The agent Zoe singled out and the two guards went to transport the bear out of the room.
“So, are you nervous?” the agent asked as it picked up some surgery tools off the ground.
“Nah, that was just a run of the mill parasite removal,” Zoe said as she cleaned up a small spill.
“No, not that. I mean about the meeting.”
Zoe shook her head. “Listen, I think that we’re going to be fine. I mean, we do important work here at SMILK! Take the bear we just had. Imagine if whatever that bear had got out into the world uncontrollably. Who knows what danger that could happen.” Zoe picked up the collection dish of parasites. “I am going to contain these properly. You finish up cleaning here. Alright?”
“Yes ma’am.”
With that, Zoe left the room, holding the collection dish. She made her way down a set of halls to the Containment Room.
“Alright, whatever the hell you all are. You guys are going into containment until we can figure out what you are.”
She opened up one of the sterile containment boxes and started to put the parasites in, one by one. As she did, she picked up one and looked at it. The parasites looked almost like worms or leeches, but about an inch long and had a gaping mouth on one end with teeth. They were an odd purple color.
“What are yo-”
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Zoe’s watch alarm startled her, causing her to drop the parasite.
“Shit! Is it time already?” Zoe quickly glanced at her watch. “Okay, let’s just get you all in there quickly!” She picked up the collection dish and poured the rest of them into the box before shoving it into an open slot in a set of boxes. “I’ll worry about filling out the paperwork after!” She quickly rushed out of the Containment room and scrambled to get to the meeting.
Zoe rushed her way to the main lobby, where all the other workers had gathered. She panted, out of breath as she joined up with her division.
“There you are, Zoe!” one of her coworkers said. “What happened?”
“I was down in Containment dealing with a case. Did I miss anything yet?” Zoe asked as she finally caught her breath.
“Not yet. The CEO is about to start,” another coworker said as he hushed and pointed to Garrett Young, who was standing up on a balcony.
“People of SMILK INC!” Garrett said, causing the crowd of employees to hush down. “As I am sure many of you are aware, I come bearing both good and bad news. Firstly, the good news! I have been watching and monitoring the reviews and progress of all the divisions. And, it is with great pleasure that I announce that this year, the Division Promotion will be given to…” Garrett opened up an envelope before reading the contents. “Division 16!”
Zoe’s heart sank more than before. She had tried her hardest to make Division 4 earn that promotion. Despite all the hard effort and all her gusto, Zoe couldn’t help but feel deflated after hearing the news. Still, she clung onto hope as she clutched onto the small jade four leaf clover that Juniper gave her. Even if they didn’t get the promotion, things weren’t all bad.
“And now for the bad news. Due to changes in the economy and new policies that come from the government, we do have to make cuts. So, it is with a heavy heart that I announce that Divisions 4, 13, and 25 will be closed down. You have until the end of the day to pack up your belongings. And, of course, we will know if you take anything that doesn’t belong to you.”
Things were all bad.
Zoe fell to her knees. As much as she wanted to, tears didn’t fall from her face. She didn’t even know why. She wasn’t putting on any brave face, but at the same time, everything felt like it was crumbling around her. The rest of whatever Garrett was talking about was a complete blur to her as she dissociated. She turned to see her fellow coworkers in Division 4 consoling each other and crying on shoulders. Some people she recognized from Division 25 had come over give them hugs and comfort as best as they could.
Zoe’s body felt heavy. It felt numb. She didn’t feel anything as she picked up her lunch from the break room. Her desk trinkets might have well as been as light as air the way she packed them without thinking. All sound was muffled to her, in one ear and out the other. She couldn’t tell whether coworkers were upset at the choices made, or at her for giving them hope. Zoe didn’t care. It felt like nothing mattered right now.
Zoe didn’t snap back to reality until she realized she was sitting in her car, holding her phone with her boyfriend’s number at the ready. Absent-mindedly, she dialed him to tell him the tragic news.
“Stanley… I… got let go from work today. They just announced it and… I finished packing up all my stuff. I just…” She sniffled, still feeling incredibly numb. “I know you’re probably busy right now, but… I need you dear… So, can I come-”
“Shit! Did you accidentally accept the call? How long has this call been going?” Stanley said, clearly not directing his voice to Zoe.
“Oops, sorry! Maybe she didn’t hear anything.”
The call hung up as Zoe stared beyond the horizon. That second voice was none other than her sister, Sabrina. Zoe recognized the out of breath nature of Stanley. Her mind clicked to what happened, but she didn’t want to accept it. No matter how she tried to reframe it, there was no mistaking it. She had called them while the two of them were doing each other and Sabrina accidentally accepted the call.
How? How long? How long had this been going on? Had she been played like a fool for days? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years? Zoe clutched her chest as she breathed shakily. Had she angered some sort of divinity? Did she accidentally piss off a witch and was cursed? Was she just doomed to the worst day imaginable?
The next thing Zoe knew, she was back at the parking lot at her apartment. Her body had autopiloted its way back home. She slowly got out of the car, leaving her belongings inside. She shuffled to the door, going through the keys to find the one to her apartment.
As she was inserting the key, the door opened up on its own.
Confusion quickly turned to utter fear as she creaked open the door, seeing barren floors and walls. There was nothing. No furniture. No valuables. Anything remotely expensive had been taken.
Her mind flashed back to this morning. Juniper. She had talked to Zoe before Zoe locked her door. She left her apartment unlocked.
Zoe walked from room to room, looking at the barren spots where valuables and little trinkets had been, collecting dust. The only thing that had been left behind was the bed that couldn’t fit out of the doorframe.
She had no job. No boyfriend. And now, nothing in her apartment. Not even mind-numbing trash TV was an option for her.
She faceplanted down onto her bed, utterly limp. She kicked off her shoes and stared into the darkness. It was at this moment that tears finally fell from Zoe’s eyes. She had nothing. Everything was just gone. All her hard work, all her efforts, all her life was taken from her in a single day. Zoe rolled over and stared at the ceiling as the tears continued to stream down her face.
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “There’s no way that this day could get any fucking worse!”
Then, she felt something. Something crawling on her leg. Zoe looked down, seeing nothing at first. Then, she sat up to try and get a better angle. There was one of the worm things from earlier.
Unknown to Zoe at the time, when the watch alarm startled her, the parasite she was holding didn’t drop down back into the collection dish. Instead, it hit the rim of the dish and bounced off, and landed into a part of her shoe that she couldn’t feel. It had stuck with her the whole time.
Before Zoe’s mind could comprehend anything more, after being beaten and battered all day with bad thing after bad thing, the parasite arched back. It let out a horrific scream before it suddenly lunged at Zoe.
That was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.
Zoe groaned awake as her eyes fluttered open.
“What happened?”
She looked around, finding herself in her room. As her eyes went over the empty spaces where her things used to be, she began to recall.
“Oh, right.” She slammed her fist on her bed. It hadn’t been a nightmare. The firing. The cheating. The robbery. The parasite.
The parasite.
Zoe quickly checked her body for any sign of the parasite. There was a hole in her shirt, but to her shock, her body looked untouched. To double check, she rushed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. There was one big noticeable change. Her irises were a vivid purple color now.
“What the fuck happened?”
Zoe felt a strange feeling in her throat. She coughed, then coughed again, then harder and harder until she eventually spit something up. Inside of her bathroom sink was one of the worm parasites. Zoe shrieked and backed away, falling to the ground as the parasite wiggled to the edge of the counter.
“My queen, what is your command?”
Zoe shrieked again. There was no way that thing just fucking talked! Now she had lost her mind. She was crazy. The stress and trauma of everything today made her go insane and now she was spitting up parasites and they were talking to her.
“My queen, what is your command?” the parasite asked again.
“What the fuck is going on!?” Zoe shouted.
“Ah, you are confused, my queen.” The parasite inched a little closer to the edge of the sink. “You are the queen of the Thaviothes. Normally, we take over a host and control them, but, there was something different about you. I believe when we tried to attack your heart, there was something that reacted with us.”
Zoe looked down at her chest, where the hole was. She reached into the breast pocket and pulled out half of the jade trinket that Juniper had given her.
“Ah, that would be it. That caused a chemical and biological reaction in us. Rather than you being subservient to us, we are now subservient to you. Though, we did bond with you, and that shared some of your intelligence with us.” The parasite nodded its head, as if it was bowing. “You are our queen. The legion of Thaviothes is at your command.”
“Legion of Thaviothes?” Zoe said. As the words left her lips, somehow, in some way, it felt right. It felt like a normal fact. She turned to the parasite. “What can you do?”
“The only thing we can do as parasites is infect others by burrowing into them. But, once we do, they become under your absolute command,” the parasite explained.
“My absolute command?” Zoe said as she stared at the parasite.
“Yes. Their mind, their body, and their will will all belong entirely to you,” the parasite explained. “They will never disobey you and be eternally yours.”
Zoe slowly stood up and walked over to the mirror. She looked at herself again. Then, out of the corner of the mirror, she saw her empty room.
An idea came to her. This world had just taken so much from her. It took her life. Everything she had built up and put effort into. All because it could. So… why should she just let it? Why should she accept that this was how things were. She could change things. She could do something. She could control it. A smile drew wide across her face as she laughed to herself. At first a small chuckle, then louder, until finally a full on cackling.
She turned to the parasite. “You. I’m going to call you Thaddeus.”
The parasite nodded. “I am honored to be named Thaddeus, my queen.”
She gently picked the parasite up in her hands.
“And together, Thaddeus. You and I are going to take back my life and so. Much. 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 grabbed her keys and her purse and left her apartment. As she was about to lock up her apartment, a voice called out to her.
“Heading out to work?” asked Juniper, the neighbor to Zoe’s left. She waved to Zoe as she saw Zoe heading out.
“Yep!” Zoe said, the extra pep in her step very visible.
“Well, someone’s energetic,” Juniper said with a smile. “Something good is happening today? Will it be the day that Stanley finally proposes? Has he been dropping hints?”
“No idea, but anything’s possible!” Zoe said, matching Juniper’s smile.
She didn’t quite mind having Juniper as a neighbor. Far better than the grouch of a man called Frederick who lived on the other side of Zoe. There were a few times that Juniper was annoying, such as playing her music a tad too loud or the times that Zoe could hear every orgasm Juniper had and caused through the walls, but outside of those times, Juniper was an ideal neighbor to have.
“Well, I love your energy today.” Juniper walked over and put something in Zoe’s hand. “Here, the spirits say that you’ll need this today.” Zoe looked down at her palm and looked at a small little jade four leaf clover sat in her hand.
“Thanks Juniper!” Zoe said as she tucked it into her breast pocket.
“The winds of change are blowing,” Juniper said as she closed her eyes and began to walk away. “Be wary, Zoe!” Then, she turned a corner and disappeared.
Zoe shrugged, having long given up trying to understand Juniper years ago. At this point, she just accepted the strangeness. She couldn’t deny that she liked the strange energy Juniper had from time to time.
Time.
Time.
“Shit!” Zoe quickly scrambled her way towards her car as she realized that it was getting later and later. If she didn’t hurry, she was going to be late for work. Her car rumbled to life and in a few moments, she was making her way towards SMILK INC.
It had always been her dream to work at such a prestigious place. It was one of the top research labs in the country. There, they researched all sorts of topics, from new robotics to parasites to even space travel. It was through her hard work, as well as her volunteer hours that she had painstakingly put in the effort for, that she had landed a job as a researcher. Even if it was the lowest available, she was still working at SMILK INC.
Sure, it wasn’t nearly as prestigious as being able to coast off of royalties like her sister, nor was she able to live in as nice a house as her. Zoe’s fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel as the thought of her sister, Sabrina. But, then she took a deep breath and was able to unclench the steering wheel.
“No, today won’t be about her. It’s going to be about me. I have been working hard. We are a shoe-in for that promotion!” Zoe said as she pumped herself back up.
She hummed along to the radio as she finished up her drive, ignoring the signs for Sabrina’s newest book on billboards that she passed by. After a fairly short drive, she reached the employee parking lot for SMILK INC. Zoe reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, excited to see a text from Stanley texting her good morning. She dialed him and held her phone up to her ear. After a few short rings, he picked up.
“Hey babe!” Zoe said, her excitement building up again. “I hope you slept well.”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” Stanley said, with a bit of a light chuckle. There was a bit of extra noise, but it sounded like the TV was on in the background. “What got you so excited?”
“Well, nothing has been confirmed, but, I do want to say that I think there is a really good chance that my division will get promoted today,” Zoe said, hardly able to contain her joy.
“Really?” Stanley said with another light chuckle. “Wow, that’s great Zoe. I’m happy for you.”
“Well, again, nothing has been confirmed, but I have a really good feeling.” Zoe had a wide smile on her face. “So, I will let you know how things go.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Stanley said. There was a bit of a pause before he responded again. “Well, hey, I should let you get to work. Don’t let me keep you. Good luck.”
“Oh, uh,” Zoe said before she heard the sound of the phone call ending, “Uh, bye. Thanks for the good luck. Love you too.” She was a little annoyed, but he was right. She did need to focus on work. She stepped out of her car and made her way into the building.
She greeted the security guard and headed right to her section of the lab. Zoe worked in the zoology department, helping non-pet animals with different diseases and ailments. As she entered the lab, the animals all gave her a rousing and loud greeting.
“Good morning everyone!” Zoe said as she set down her purse at her desk. She headed over to where her coworkers were all crowded around. “What’s got everyone’s attention?”
Her coworkers turned to Zoe, their faces long and expression drooped down. One of them pointed to a paper that was hung up on the bulletin board, and they moved aside to let Zoe read it. Her eyes scanned over the paper as she read it.
“To all employees of SMILK INC., please report to the main lobby area for an important meeting at 10 AM. Attendance is mandatory. Signed, Head CEO Garrett Young.”
Zoe crossed her arms and her expression matched her coworkers. “Everyone has to be present?” She felt a pit starting to form in her stomach as she set an alarm on her watch. “Oh boy.”
“Someone’s getting fired,” Jamison, one of Zoe’s coworkers, murmured.
“It’s not just one person. It’s gonna be a whole division,” Ashley, a different coworker, responded.
“No way. That couldn’t be possible, could it?” asked Jamison.
“Why would everyone need to be present for that?” asked Barbara, another coworker.
“Duh, it’s a show of dominance. That any division could be cut away. No one is safe,” Ashley said.
“Everyone, relax,” Zoe said as she turned to everyone. “Relax. I mean, come on. We’re an important branch of SMILK. We’re Division 4, dammit! There’s no way they can cut us with all that we do.” She tried her best to swallow her fears and put on a brave face for the rest of her coworkers. “Now, what do we have to do today? Let’s keep working like we’re not getting fired, okay? Otherwise, we’ll definitely be on the chopping block next time something like this comes around.”
The rest of her coworkers looked at each other before nodding in agreement. They started to head to their designated tasks for today, trying their best to distract themselves from the upcoming meeting.
With a heavy sigh, Zoe got herself pumped up and looked over the posting about what she was supposed to be doing today. “Let’s see what they have me assigned to.” Zoe finds her name assigned to a fringe case.
These were cases that didn’t quite fit for anywhere else. Usually situations where an animal was found and it wasn’t exactly clear what was wrong. It didn’t fit any other known cases or conditions that they were aware of.
Zoe made her way down to Room 159 where she opened up the closet door. She put on a hazmat suit, then headed inside. “What’s the situation?”
Before her was a large brown bear, unconscious on an operating table. Inside the room, there were two SMILK guards, both armed with tranquilizer weapons if something were to go wrong. Two other SMILK lab agents were there with her, both wearing hazmat suits. Across the room, separated by a sheet of reinforced glass, was a man in a park ranger’s uniform watching the whole thing. The park ranger leaned in close to a microphone to speak to Zoe.
“This is Henry the bear. Lately, he’s been acting really weird. I went to check on him and, well, just look at his chest!”
Zoe looked a little surprised, but shrugged. She turned over the bear and looked at his chest.
Rather than the usual tufts of fur that would be expected, there was a hole in the chest and she could see right through to the heart. But, weirdly, the hole around was scabbed over in some strange purple material that didn’t look like scabbing. The heart was still beating and it didn’t look like there was any sign of usual infections despite the gaping hole. As she looked closer, she could see something that looked like worms or leeches around the heart. Zoe picked up a small scalpel and poked at the worms, which wiggled at the touch and caused the bear to shuffle around.
“What the hell?” she said, picking up a small flashlight to get better lighting. “What kind of parasites are these?” She gestured to one of the lab agents. “Get me a syringe of lebentizole, a pair of long thin-neck tweezers, a collection dish, and a sprayer of etheriazen.” The lab agent nodded and quickly gathered up the supplies that Zoe needed. While they did that, Zoe gestured to the armed guards. “Guards, I’m going to try our usual parasite removal process. And that may cause the bear to be agitated. You two, be ready in case something happens. Firing word is LIMO. Got it?” The guards nodded at her and raised their weapons as the agent handed the supplies to Zoe.
Zoe carefully took the syringe and injected it into the mass of parasites. “This is going to loosen them right up. And now, the removal process.” She leaned in close with the tweezers and began to remove the parasites one by one. She dropped them into the collection dish carefully, so as not to disturb them. To an untrained hand, this would have taken several hours to do; but Zoe’s training allowed her to finish in just under a few.
“And now, the hard part.” She picked up the sprayer and aimed it at the wound on the bear. “Spraying etheriazen in three… two… one!” As soon as she sprayed, the bear recoiled as the chemicals hit its body. Zoe ducked out of the way of the thrashing as the bear flailed wildly on the table, knocking over various pieces of equipment nearby. The guards raised their weapons, but Zoe held her hand up to stop them. “Wait! Not yet!” A few moments later, the bear stopped, going back to a calming rest on the table. “Everyone alright?”
Zoe looked around, seeing the equipment and supplies that had been knocked over. Nothing seemed to be too badly destroyed, at least not to the extent that it couldn’t be fixed. The agents and guards all gave a thumbs-up.
“Great, we’re all good then.” Zoe lifted up the paw of the bear to check on the hole in its chest. To her delight, the etheriazen was doing its job and sealing the wound back up. She turned to the park ranger and gave him a thumbs-up. “We’re all good here.” Zoe pointed to one of the agents. “Escort the patient out of here to monitor and recover.”
The park ranger clapped as Zoe and one of the other agents began to clean up the room. The agent Zoe singled out and the two guards went to transport the bear out of the room.
“So, are you nervous?” the agent asked as it picked up some surgery tools off the ground.
“Nah, that was just a run of the mill parasite removal,” Zoe said as she cleaned up a small spill.
“No, not that. I mean about the meeting.”
Zoe shook her head. “Listen, I think that we’re going to be fine. I mean, we do important work here at SMILK! Take the bear we just had. Imagine if whatever that bear had got out into the world uncontrollably. Who knows what danger that could happen.” Zoe picked up the collection dish of parasites. “I am going to contain these properly. You finish up cleaning here. Alright?”
“Yes ma’am.”
With that, Zoe left the room, holding the collection dish. She made her way down a set of halls to the Containment Room.
“Alright, whatever the hell you all are. You guys are going into containment until we can figure out what you are.”
She opened up one of the sterile containment boxes and started to put the parasites in, one by one. As she did, she picked up one and looked at it. The parasites looked almost like worms or leeches, but about an inch long and had a gaping mouth on one end with teeth. They were an odd purple color.
“What are yo-”
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Zoe’s watch alarm startled her, causing her to drop the parasite.
“Shit! Is it time already?” Zoe quickly glanced at her watch. “Okay, let’s just get you all in there quickly!” She picked up the collection dish and poured the rest of them into the box before shoving it into an open slot in a set of boxes. “I’ll worry about filling out the paperwork after!” She quickly rushed out of the Containment room and scrambled to get to the meeting.
Zoe rushed her way to the main lobby, where all the other workers had gathered. She panted, out of breath as she joined up with her division.
“There you are, Zoe!” one of her coworkers said. “What happened?”
“I was down in Containment dealing with a case. Did I miss anything yet?” Zoe asked as she finally caught her breath.
“Not yet. The CEO is about to start,” another coworker said as he hushed and pointed to Garrett Young, who was standing up on a balcony.
“People of SMILK INC!” Garrett said, causing the crowd of employees to hush down. “As I am sure many of you are aware, I come bearing both good and bad news. Firstly, the good news! I have been watching and monitoring the reviews and progress of all the divisions. And, it is with great pleasure that I announce that this year, the Division Promotion will be given to…” Garrett opened up an envelope before reading the contents. “Division 16!”
Zoe’s heart sank more than before. She had tried her hardest to make Division 4 earn that promotion. Despite all the hard effort and all her gusto, Zoe couldn’t help but feel deflated after hearing the news. Still, she clung onto hope as she clutched onto the small jade four leaf clover that Juniper gave her. Even if they didn’t get the promotion, things weren’t all bad.
“And now for the bad news. Due to changes in the economy and new policies that come from the government, we do have to make cuts. So, it is with a heavy heart that I announce that Divisions 4, 13, and 25 will be closed down. You have until the end of the day to pack up your belongings. And, of course, we will know if you take anything that doesn’t belong to you.”
Things were all bad.
Zoe fell to her knees. As much as she wanted to, tears didn’t fall from her face. She didn’t even know why. She wasn’t putting on any brave face, but at the same time, everything felt like it was crumbling around her. The rest of whatever Garrett was talking about was a complete blur to her as she dissociated. She turned to see her fellow coworkers in Division 4 consoling each other and crying on shoulders. Some people she recognized from Division 25 had come over give them hugs and comfort as best as they could.
Zoe’s body felt heavy. It felt numb. She didn’t feel anything as she picked up her lunch from the break room. Her desk trinkets might have well as been as light as air the way she packed them without thinking. All sound was muffled to her, in one ear and out the other. She couldn’t tell whether coworkers were upset at the choices made, or at her for giving them hope. Zoe didn’t care. It felt like nothing mattered right now.
Zoe didn’t snap back to reality until she realized she was sitting in her car, holding her phone with her boyfriend’s number at the ready. Absent-mindedly, she dialed him to tell him the tragic news.
“Stanley… I… got let go from work today. They just announced it and… I finished packing up all my stuff. I just…” She sniffled, still feeling incredibly numb. “I know you’re probably busy right now, but… I need you dear… So, can I come-”
“Shit! Did you accidentally accept the call? How long has this call been going?” Stanley said, clearly not directing his voice to Zoe.
“Oops, sorry! Maybe she didn’t hear anything.”
The call hung up as Zoe stared beyond the horizon. That second voice was none other than her sister, Sabrina. Zoe recognized the out of breath nature of Stanley. Her mind clicked to what happened, but she didn’t want to accept it. No matter how she tried to reframe it, there was no mistaking it. She had called them while the two of them were doing each other and Sabrina accidentally accepted the call.
How? How long? How long had this been going on? Had she been played like a fool for days? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years? Zoe clutched her chest as she breathed shakily. Had she angered some sort of divinity? Did she accidentally piss off a witch and was cursed? Was she just doomed to the worst day imaginable?
The next thing Zoe knew, she was back at the parking lot at her apartment. Her body had autopiloted its way back home. She slowly got out of the car, leaving her belongings inside. She shuffled to the door, going through the keys to find the one to her apartment.
As she was inserting the key, the door opened up on its own.
Confusion quickly turned to utter fear as she creaked open the door, seeing barren floors and walls. There was nothing. No furniture. No valuables. Anything remotely expensive had been taken.
Her mind flashed back to this morning. Juniper. She had talked to Zoe before Zoe locked her door. She left her apartment unlocked.
Zoe walked from room to room, looking at the barren spots where valuables and little trinkets had been, collecting dust. The only thing that had been left behind was the bed that couldn’t fit out of the doorframe.
She had no job. No boyfriend. And now, nothing in her apartment. Not even mind-numbing trash TV was an option for her.
She faceplanted down onto her bed, utterly limp. She kicked off her shoes and stared into the darkness. It was at this moment that tears finally fell from Zoe’s eyes. She had nothing. Everything was just gone. All her hard work, all her efforts, all her life was taken from her in a single day. Zoe rolled over and stared at the ceiling as the tears continued to stream down her face.
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “There’s no way that this day could get any fucking worse!”
Then, she felt something. Something crawling on her leg. Zoe looked down, seeing nothing at first. Then, she sat up to try and get a better angle. There was one of the worm things from earlier.
Unknown to Zoe at the time, when the watch alarm startled her, the parasite she was holding didn’t drop down back into the collection dish. Instead, it hit the rim of the dish and bounced off, and landed into a part of her shoe that she couldn’t feel. It had stuck with her the whole time.
Before Zoe’s mind could comprehend anything more, after being beaten and battered all day with bad thing after bad thing, the parasite arched back. It let out a horrific scream before it suddenly lunged at Zoe.
That was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.
Zoe groaned awake as her eyes fluttered open.
“What happened?”
She looked around, finding herself in her room. As her eyes went over the empty spaces where her things used to be, she began to recall.
“Oh, right.” She slammed her fist on her bed. It hadn’t been a nightmare. The firing. The cheating. The robbery. The parasite.
The parasite.
Zoe quickly checked her body for any sign of the parasite. There was a hole in her shirt, but to her shock, her body looked untouched. To double check, she rushed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. There was one big noticeable change. Her irises were a vivid purple color now.
“What the fuck happened?”
Zoe felt a strange feeling in her throat. She coughed, then coughed again, then harder and harder until she eventually spit something up. Inside of her bathroom sink was one of the worm parasites. Zoe shrieked and backed away, falling to the ground as the parasite wiggled to the edge of the counter.
“My queen, what is your command?”
Zoe shrieked again. There was no way that thing just fucking talked! Now she had lost her mind. She was crazy. The stress and trauma of everything today made her go insane and now she was spitting up parasites and they were talking to her.
“My queen, what is your command?” the parasite asked again.
“What the fuck is going on!?” Zoe shouted.
“Ah, you are confused, my queen.” The parasite inched a little closer to the edge of the sink. “You are the queen of the Thaviothes. Normally, we take over a host and control them, but, there was something different about you. I believe when we tried to attack your heart, there was something that reacted with us.”
Zoe looked down at her chest, where the hole was. She reached into the breast pocket and pulled out half of the jade trinket that Juniper had given her.
“Ah, that would be it. That caused a chemical and biological reaction in us. Rather than you being subservient to us, we are now subservient to you. Though, we did bond with you, and that shared some of your intelligence with us.” The parasite nodded its head, as if it was bowing. “You are our queen. The legion of Thaviothes is at your command.”
“Legion of Thaviothes?” Zoe said. As the words left her lips, somehow, in some way, it felt right. It felt like a normal fact. She turned to the parasite. “What can you do?”
“The only thing we can do as parasites is infect others by burrowing into them. But, once we do, they become under your absolute command,” the parasite explained.
“My absolute command?” Zoe said as she stared at the parasite.
“Yes. Their mind, their body, and their will will all belong entirely to you,” the parasite explained. “They will never disobey you and be eternally yours.”
Zoe slowly stood up and walked over to the mirror. She looked at herself again. Then, out of the corner of the mirror, she saw her empty room.
An idea came to her. This world had just taken so much from her. It took her life. Everything she had built up and put effort into. All because it could. So… why should she just let it? Why should she accept that this was how things were. She could change things. She could do something. She could control it. A smile drew wide across her face as she laughed to herself. At first a small chuckle, then louder, until finally a full on cackling.
She turned to the parasite. “You. I’m going to call you Thaddeus.”
The parasite nodded. “I am honored to be named Thaddeus, my queen.”
She gently picked the parasite up in her hands.
“And together, Thaddeus. You and I are going to take back my life and so. Much. More!”
This is a rewrite & expansion of The Guillotine by Smiles on Writing.com -- https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1575512-The-Guillotine
It's set in the same world and will start of similarly, but will quickly expand out in different directions without directly copying the original.
____
A family member discovers a magical guillotine at a magic shop called Franz Joseph Illusions. It has the ability to cut off body parts and let them be reattached to anyone and anywhere!
Rules:
- When a body part is cut off, the person it is removed from can still feel and move it until it is attached to somebody else.
- When it is attached to somebody else, the original owner loses all sensation in it, and the new person gains the ability to move and feel it as if it is their own.
- If it is cut off from the second person, they keep control of the body part until it is again attached to another person.
- If a body part is attached to something inanimate (like a wall or a table), it just goes completely numb.
The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into Franz Joseph Illusions, the musty scent of aged wood and old velvet filling your nose. The shop was dimly lit, dust motes swirling in the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the grimy front windows. Behind the counter sat an ancient man with wiry white hair and thick spectacles that magnified his watery blue eyes. He barely glanced up from his newspaper as you entered.
Your boots scuffed against the worn wooden floorboards as you wandered between displays of magic props. A gleaming chrome box for sawing women in half stood beside a levitation rig with silk scarves still draped over its frame. But your attention kept drifting to the back corner where a massive guillotine loomed, its polished blade catching the light in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.
Running your fingers along the smooth oak frame, you examined the intricate carvings of fleur-de-lis along the sides. The metal components gleamed with fresh oil, the blade's edge so sharp you could see your distorted reflection in it. Crouching down, you checked beneath the lunette - the semicircular brace where a victim's neck would rest - but found no manufacturer's marks or price tags.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" The old man's voice made you jump. He'd appeared silently beside you, his gnarled hands stroking the guillotine's frame with disturbing affection. "Built in 1793 for the Comte de Rougemont. He commissioned it to save his own neck, if you'll pardon the expression."
You frowned. "How does a guillotine save someone?"
The old man's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Magic, my boy. The oldest kind." He rapped his knuckles against the wooden frame. "This one's special. The blade never quite... connects. Makes for quite the party trick."
Your fingers itched to try it. "How much?"
"To buy? More than you've got in that wallet." He chuckled at your crestfallen expression. "But I'll lend it to you for a week. Show your friends. Maybe slice some fruit. Just remember to mention Franz Joseph's when they scream."
Within the hour, you'd carefully loaded the massive contraption into your pickup, the old man fussing over the padding like a mother with a newborn. The drive home was tense, every bump making you glance nervously at the rearview mirror to check the guillotine hadn't shifted.
Back in your garage, you wrestled the heavy device into position, the scent of oil and aged wood filling the space. The blade hung ominously above the empty lunette, the release mechanism's rope coiled like a sleeping serpent. Excited to test it, you hurried inside to grab a watermelon from the fridge.
The cool night air hit your face as you returned, the watermelon heavy in your arms. But as you stepped into the garage, you froze. Someone was already there, their silhouette framed against the guillotine's massive outline....
It's set in the same world and will start of similarly, but will quickly expand out in different directions without directly copying the original.
____
A family member discovers a magical guillotine at a magic shop called Franz Joseph Illusions. It has the ability to cut off body parts and let them be reattached to anyone and anywhere!
Rules:
- When a body part is cut off, the person it is removed from can still feel and move it until it is attached to somebody else.
- When it is attached to somebody else, the original owner loses all sensation in it, and the new person gains the ability to move and feel it as if it is their own.
- If it is cut off from the second person, they keep control of the body part until it is again attached to another person.
- If a body part is attached to something inanimate (like a wall or a table), it just goes completely numb.
The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into Franz Joseph Illusions, the musty scent of aged wood and old velvet filling your nose. The shop was dimly lit, dust motes swirling in the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the grimy front windows. Behind the counter sat an ancient man with wiry white hair and thick spectacles that magnified his watery blue eyes. He barely glanced up from his newspaper as you entered.
Your boots scuffed against the worn wooden floorboards as you wandered between displays of magic props. A gleaming chrome box for sawing women in half stood beside a levitation rig with silk scarves still draped over its frame. But your attention kept drifting to the back corner where a massive guillotine loomed, its polished blade catching the light in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.
Running your fingers along the smooth oak frame, you examined the intricate carvings of fleur-de-lis along the sides. The metal components gleamed with fresh oil, the blade's edge so sharp you could see your distorted reflection in it. Crouching down, you checked beneath the lunette - the semicircular brace where a victim's neck would rest - but found no manufacturer's marks or price tags.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" The old man's voice made you jump. He'd appeared silently beside you, his gnarled hands stroking the guillotine's frame with disturbing affection. "Built in 1793 for the Comte de Rougemont. He commissioned it to save his own neck, if you'll pardon the expression."
You frowned. "How does a guillotine save someone?"
The old man's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Magic, my boy. The oldest kind." He rapped his knuckles against the wooden frame. "This one's special. The blade never quite... connects. Makes for quite the party trick."
Your fingers itched to try it. "How much?"
"To buy? More than you've got in that wallet." He chuckled at your crestfallen expression. "But I'll lend it to you for a week. Show your friends. Maybe slice some fruit. Just remember to mention Franz Joseph's when they scream."
Within the hour, you'd carefully loaded the massive contraption into your pickup, the old man fussing over the padding like a mother with a newborn. The drive home was tense, every bump making you glance nervously at the rearview mirror to check the guillotine hadn't shifted.
Back in your garage, you wrestled the heavy device into position, the scent of oil and aged wood filling the space. The blade hung ominously above the empty lunette, the release mechanism's rope coiled like a sleeping serpent. Excited to test it, you hurried inside to grab a watermelon from the fridge.
The cool night air hit your face as you returned, the watermelon heavy in your arms. But as you stepped into the garage, you froze. Someone was already there, their silhouette framed against the guillotine's massive outline....
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 be seen during a small window later this week.
So that Friday, Riley found herself an hour away with a clipboard in her lap, filling out a paper application. She’d just written her new name and still got a thrill from it a whole five weeks later. That’s how long she’d been married. Her mind drifted to Ben, standing there all handsome in his tux, looking at her like she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Her blonde, shoulder length hair had been adorned with flowers. Her face hidden behind her veil. She’d always cherish the moment when he’d lifted it over her head and mouthed, ‘Wow.’ She hadn’t been able to stop smiling. The butterflies had been nonstop that magical day, and they returned quickly every time she thought about it.
She loved being Mrs. Ben Harper. Loved being married. She was at the part of the application that asked for the relationship status. Married or single. With a bit of a flourish, she brought her pen over the box that said married. She hovered over it dramatically. She was about to make an indelible x, when the applicant to her right, a pretty brunette, cleared her throat.
“Don't,” she whispered. “Check single, or you don't stand a chance.”
“Excuse me?” Riley whispered back. Companies were not legally allowed to hire people based on whether they were married or not.
The brunette scanned the room, making sure no other ears were tracking their hushed whispers, then said softly, “My roommate already works here. She told me discreetly that they only hire people who aren’t married. Do what you want, but if you really want the job, don’t let on that you’re married.”
“Thanks…” Riley said hesitantly. Why would a data entry job care at all about whether or not she was married? She looked around the room and saw a total of 11 candidates including herself. She didn’t know how many would be offered a job. Maybe just one or two of them. She wasn’t particularly proficient at data entry, but she was a fast learner. She’d do whatever it took to secure financial stability for her and Ben.
This could change everything for them. Ben wouldn’t like that she’d have to lie about being married to him to get the job, but she wouldn’t have to tell him. It’s not like the company was going to come to her house. So she took a breath, and checked the box that said single.
The brunette whispered out the side of her mouth, “Good call. Best of luck in your interview.”
“You too,” Riley said.
A handsome man with dark hair and a thousand watt smile stepped out of the adjoining conference room. He picked up the sign in sheet with every applicant's name, and then scanned the room. “Josephine?” he asked in a clear, deep voice.
The brunette stood, smoothed her pantsuit and said, “That’s me.”
The man beamed at her. “Right this way,” and gestured for her to join him in the conference room.
Before she went, Josephine extended a hand to Riley. “If we end up working together, you can call me Josie.”
Riley giggled and took it. “I sure hope we do, Josie. I’m Riley.”
Josie winked and gave Riley’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “I know, I saw it on your application.” With that Josie headed into the interview.
Ten minutes later, she came out with a confident smile on her face and gave Riley a big thumbs up. “Piece of cake.”
“Did they offer you the job?” Riley asked with wide eyes.
Josie nodded. “On the spot. I’m to report back here on Monday.”
Riley felt her stomach lurch as she thought about how this might affect her odds, but smiled gamely. “Congrats. I hope my interview goes as well as yours.”
“Just be yourself.” Josie leaned down and whispered in Riley’s ear. “And be single.”
Riley laughed softly. “Got it.”
As Josie left the waiting room, Riley found herself wishing Josie could have stayed for moral support until it was her turn. She wished Ben could have come for the same reason, but that might have cost her her shot if her husband had tagged along.
Two more applicants came and went. One was a guy who came out with slumped shoulders. The other was a striking red headed woman who walked out with head held high and a confident swagger in her hips. It was clear that only one of them had gotten the job.
Riley observed that none of the men came out looking like they’d had an offer. Rather, it was only the women. Specifically, beautiful women.
Doubts flooded Riley’s mind again as her name was finally called. She stood up and walked towards the open door, but as she did, she wondered if she was willing to work for a company that seemed biased towards looks, gender, and marital status. If she wanted that, she could just go back to her last job, or the one before that, or the one before that.
But she remembered quickly that none of those places were going to pay 80 grand a year, so she put on her game face. For that much money, she even went so far as to chide herself for not wearing something low cut to show off her impressive cleavage. Her jiggly chest certainly kept her husband’s attention. But she’d opted for a pale blue blouse that gave her the conservative look she preferred to have in public. Hopefully that wasn’t a deal breaker.
Finally it was her turn, and she stepped into the conference room for her interview. There were two people on the other side of a long table. The handsome man that called in the candidates, and a woman. The man came around the desk, and closed the door behind her, then offered his hand. “I’m Marcus,” he said kindly. He gestured towards the woman that hadn’t moved, but was perusing a file on the table. “This is Doris.”
Doris was much older than Marcus. Marcus was maybe in his mid thirties, early forties, but Doris looked like she was going on a hundred and twenty. Deep wrinkles and sagging jowls made Riley think that she’d judged Del Corp too harshly. Clearly they didn’t just care about looks if Doris worked here.
When Riley stopped looking at Doris and glanced back at Marcus, she noticed his eyes bounce up quickly to hers. He’d been looking at her chest. She kept the smile plastered on her face, but inside thought, “You’ll never see ‘em perv. They belong to my husband.”
Marcus took Riley’s application and took it to his side of the table. Riley took a seat across from them. Riley noticed Doris glanced at her application, putting a bony finger near the section that indicated her relationship status. She nodded and gave what could have been a sound of approval, or begrudging interest.
Marcus smiled, and tapped his right hand on the table, as he perused more of her application. The silver ring that he wore on that hand made a loud ting ting sound as he tapped. After his cursory glance, the interview began. There was a back and forth about Riley’s employment history. Some questions about her computer proficiency. Doris had frowned at that part, but Marcus had seemed undeterred.
Riley thought she’d answered all the questions well. Maybe everything was going her way. Then Doris finally fixed her eyes on her and she felt the color leave her face.
As Doris spoke, Riley was reminded of every mean spinster she’d ever seen in movies. “Miss Harper,” Doris began, putting an emphasis on the ‘Miss,’ “We are looking for someone who is motivated team player. You might be called on to perform a task for the company at all hours. Would that be a problem?”
Thinking about her first paycheck, Riley didn’t hesitate. “No, ma’am.”
Doris’s eyes became narrow slits. “Is there anything, or anyone, in your life that might slow you down or get in the way. Anyone you might be…beholden too?”
Had Riley not had the earlier conversation with Josie, she might not have immediately seen this as a way to ask about her relationship status without directly asking about it. It clearly was a big deal. But given that it truly was none of their business, she again answered, “Nope. It’s just me right now. Nothing tying me down. Completely single and live by my lonesome.” She stopped after that, worried she might have laid it on a little too thick.
Marcus smile grew very wide at that answer, and he shared a look with Doris, who also gave a smile, although a very tight lipped one.
“Well, we think you’ll be a perfect fit, Riley. We’d like you to start Monday.”
Riley’s jaw dropped. “So I got the job!” she squealed, wanting to leap up and bounce around the room.
“You got the job!” Marcus repeated, standing up and buttoning his suit. He came around the table and for a second Riley thought he was going to hug her, but then he put out his hand and said, “Welcome to the Del Corp family.”
She took it and enthusiastically said to him and Doris, “Thank you. Thank you! I won’t let you down.”
She then strode out confidently from the conference room. It would be a long drive home, but that was no problem now. She had a high paying job! She couldn’t wait to tell her husband.
Before they called the next candidate, Marcus said, “I’m going to enjoy that one. She’s just my type.”
Doris nodded smugly. “Me too. There’s definitely a demand for busty blondes from the clients. And there’s a real sweetness about her too. She’ll be in high demand for sure.”
An hour later, Ben was thrilled when his wife told him the news, but the money Riley was being offered almost seemed too good to be true though. “So…you’re gonna be doing what exactly?”
“It’s data entry basically for a bunch of rich clients I guess. It can’t be too hard though, cause they didn’t seem too worried about my work history.”
Ben gave his wife a wry smile and asked, “Was it a man who interviewed you?”
Riley crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Just what are you implying?”
“Only that you’re super hot, even with that blouse buttoned all the way to the top.”
Riley’s eyebrows shot up in mock annoyance. “I’ll have you know that it was a man AND a woman.”
“So they both had the hots for you?”
Riley took a playful swat at her husband, who backed out of reach at the last second. A second later, her fingers began unbuttoning her blouse from the top down. “If this outfit bothers you so much, I’ll just have to take it off.”
As a silky black bra came into view, Ben’s mouth began to water. It had been almost 10 hours since they’d had sex. Far too long for the newlywed couple. “Yeah. Yeah you should definitely take it off.”
“Are you saying that I only got the job because of my body?”
“I would never say such a thing,” Ben said, keen to not jeopardize his chances of getting some.
“Would YOU give me the job because of my body?” Riley asked as she reached behind to unfasten the bra.
“I would give you the job and a raise and immediately make you CEO for a glimpse of your boobs alone.”
She giggled, and he saw the bra tighten as she pulled at the clasp, then the release. He saw the tops of her boobs wobble as gravity tried to let them escape. But Riley held the bra in place with one hand, while the other slowly pulled down the straps. She loved how Ben looked at her. It was okay for him to look. She so wanted him to. He was still so captivated by her body, even after having seen it so many times. The anticipation of getting to see her boobs never failed to get him excited. And that’s what she wanted right then. To get him very excited, and to take her. She couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.
“Wow,” Riley teased as she held the bra in place. “So I just have to show you my boobs, and you’ll give me the whole damn company?”
“I’d give you the whole world.”
“Good answer.” The bra fell. Boobs bounced out.
Riley tackled her man, and more clothes were quickly discarded so they could make love on their living room floor.
Ben was not a morning person, but that following Monday, he rose early to make his wife breakfast in bed. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and juice. It was a sweet gesture, but cooking had never been his forte. He burned everything but the juice, and even that was a little close.
He still happily brought it to her on a tray, but when he entered their bedroom, found that his wife was already up and half dressed in bra and panties. “Babe,” he whined. “You’re supposed to still be in bed!”
Riley turned and saw the barely edible breakfast her man had prepared. Her smile was radiant as she sauntered towards him. “You are the sweetest husband I could ever asked for,” she gushed. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
She threw her arms around his neck, causing the contents of the tray to rattle precariously as Ben did his best to save it. He lost the juice. Its contents hit the carpet of their bedroom, but still he tried to salvage the moment. “Seriously Riley, get in bed!”
Riley gave a cute pout that she used when she wanted to get her way. It always worked on her husband. “But I don’t have time.”
Ben faltered at her cute face, but said, “Nuh uh, there’s still plenty of time for you to eat and get ready.”
She kissed his lips and said, “Not if I do this.” And she stepped back, and sank to her knees. As she did, she pulled down Ben’s boxers.
As soon as Ben saw what his wife intended to do, his dick raced to catch up, getting hard so fast it hit the underside of the tray he was still holding. “No, this is your big day!” he protested. “I’m the one who’s trying to do something for you!”
Riley giggled as she took the tray from him and placed it on the floor. “I know,” she said sweetly. “And its that fact that makes me want to suck you off Mr. Harper. So shh.” She took him into her mouth. She wasn’t the best at cocksucking, but loved the sounds Ben made as she slid her tongue up and down his shaft. His little whimpers of pleasure were so cute and sexy. She loved being able to please him. She loved him so very much.
She swallowed down what he gave her, and left him to eat the breakfast. She brushed her teeth, finished dressing, and grabbed a power bar in the kitchen. She was almost out the door when Ben called out, “Wait!”
“I gotta go Ben, it’s an hour away,” Riley said in mock exasperation. But still, she waited for her husband to walk quickly towards her so he could embrace her, picking her up off her feet and kissing her.
He didn’t care that his dick had been in her mouth minutes ago. He was so proud of her. Loved her so much. Would do anything for her. “Thank you for being so awesome. I know you’re gonna go kick some ass today.”
“Just have the house clean and dinner on the table when I come back, babe,” Riley said in as low a voice as she could muster.
‘Yeah, I can do breakfast again,” Ben offered seriously.
Riley made a small grimace and said, “Uh, ha ha, just kidding. I’ll pick up something for us on the way home. You’ve done enough cooking.”
Ben hung his head. “It’s the thought that counts right.”
“Oh, you mean the thought that got you a blowjob? Yeah, I’d say that worked out for ya.”
They laughed and hugged again, and then Riley was out the door.
An hour later, Riley showed up for her new hire orientation, along with three other candidates she’d seen in the waiting room.
Looks like no one else had made the cut, she thought.
Josie was there of course. She owed her a debt for giving her that advice. There was also the stunning red head, and a taller, slender blonde with smaller boobs than her own.
She noticed that as far as beauty standards went, these women were probably the top four or five most attractive from yesterday. Maybe these were the ones who had simply checked single. She needed to make sure not to bring up her marriage to any of them. Not yet at least. After a few months when she’d proved what a good worker she could be, she’d let them know.
As she thought about that, she wondered if she’d be able to keep quiet about her husband around her coworkers for so long! Working remotely one day a week would make that easier at least. She just loved Ben so much and wanted everyone to know how lucky she was. Even complete strangers!
The women all milled about in the waiting room. Riley assumed they’d have orientation in the same adjoining conference room. She was about to start asking for names, when Doris showed up through the set of double doors that led into the building. She studied them each in turn, saying nothing as her eyes scrutinized them, as if looking for flaws. There was no big welcome, not even a smile. But after staring at them, she motioned with a curled finger to follow her. She put a silver ring she wore on her right finger, and touched the sensor on the double doors. She led them out of the waiting room, and deep into the heart of Del Corp.
They walked down a long hallway, turned right, found a set of stairs that led down and followed them. Another long hallway. Another turn. Another set of stairs. On and on, Riley noticed that every door they’d passed so far since the entrance had been closed. They never passed an open office, or break room, or a conference room. Riley suddenly felt stifled, and was again thankful that she’d only have to be here once a week.
They did pass several men, all with big smiles on their faces and wandering eyes that didn’t disguise where they were looking. Riley was taken aback by this. She didn’t want to raise a fuss her first day, but she had a mind to get the names of everyone and report them to HR. Surely a successful company like this had a top notch human resources.
It wasn’t all men though. They also passed several women, mostly older, or obese, or with a disfigurement of some kind. They also looked at each of the new women shrewdly and appraisingly. Riley wondered if this was some kind of weird corporate hazing. If it was, she didn’t like it.
On the third flight down, they approached a room on their right that was making a loud hum, and Josie asked curiously, “What’s in there?”
“Main servers,” Doris replied with unveiled irritation. “You’ll never need to go in there. It’s always locked, and only a few people have access.”
Access. Riley noticed that every door had a sensor for keyless entry. This was a very secure facility. She was suddenly shocked that the company had not done a background check on her. What kind of company that seemed to value privacy and security would hire someone without doing a thorough background check.
‘It really is like, oh, you’re hot and single? Welcome to the team,’ Riley mused as her irritation for this place steadily rose. She tried to remember why she was here. She allowed a mantra to run through her mind over and over again. ‘The money. Remember the money. Remember you’ll be working from home. Remember that you’re doing all this for Ben, the love of your life, and the future that we have together.’
After going down two more floors and countless hallways, they reached a large rectangular room that was very nice and welcoming. It was completely the opposite of everything Riley had seen so far. There were fake plants scattered throughout, fancy art on the wall, and several of the most comfy looking couches Riley had ever seen forming an open square in the middle of the room. In the middle of that square was a low square coffee table, and Riley saw four laptops in a row.
“Have a seat there,” Doris said, pointing at the couch directly in front of those laptops.
Riley went and plopped down, being sure the yellow dress she’d picked out for her first day didn’t fly up too high. She assumed the dress was fine for this job. She didn’t have any business professional clothes as she’d only had jobs where you had a uniform before this one. She’d wear whatever they deemed appropriate though, within reason. She would not be wearing anything that showed more of her cleavage than she was comfortable with. Her momma had raised her right. She’d still gotten Ben, hadn’t she? Yes. Better to conceal the goods and make ‘em chase you to get what’s inside.
“Here are your bracelets,” Doris said, interrupting Riley’s thoughts again. The old woman spoke in a dry, monotone, as if this were the last thing she wanted to be doing in the world. “After today you’ll need these bracelets to get in the building. They also monitor your health, because we care about our employees. If you suspect one is ever malfunctioning, report it immediately. Whatever you do, do not take it off unless you have the permission of a supervisor. Removal of it for any other reason will result in immediate termination.”
“But what if it doesn’t go with my outfit,” the redhead quipped.
Doris smiled, but not pleasantly. It was like the smile of a bully who enjoyed watching his victim squirm. “Oh, I think that you’ll find very soon that it will go with everything.”
The redhead frowned and sighed sarcastically. “Not likely, but if that’s the job, I’ll do it for as long as I’m here.”
By the sound of that, Riley thought that she might not last the week. Clearly she didn’t need the money as bad as Riley did.
Riley accepted her bracelet. It looked like a combination of jewelry and technology. The top half was flat and smooth, and Riley realized that it was capable of displaying messages as the phrase, “Welcome to Del Corp Riley,” was scrolling on hers. It was a bit heavy and bulky though underneath. Riley snapped it easily in place, but as she spun her wrist, she didn’t see an easy way to unfasten it. It felt very tight. Was she really going to have to wear this thing all the time?
‘The money, the money, the money…’
With the bracelets securely fastened, the four women listened as Doris began to speak to them, sounding almost bored now. “In a moment you’ll be meeting our CEO Avery Smith and three of the board members, but first, I’ll reintroduce you to your team lead, Marcus Orion.”
On cue, Marcus entered through a door opposite the one they’d come in, his arms stretched wide, his grin even wider. “Welcome new hires! I am so glad to see you today. Who’s ready to get started?”
Doris, her job apparently done, passed him on her way out of the room. She seemed very relieved to not have to be there anymore.
Marcus was the opposite of Doris, and seemed genuinely excited to have them here. “Ladies, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have this opportunity with you all. I’m going to be your primary handler. Doris will be my second. If for any reason you cannot reach me, you will report to her with any problems. Before you leave, both of our numbers will be in your phones.”
Riley raised her hand, as she had questions about the word, ‘handler.’
Marcus ignored her hand and pressed on enthusiastically. “Please turn on the laptop directly in front of each of you. These are state of the art computers that have been designed and manufactured entirely in house. I promise you they are better than anything on the market, and they’ll be what you’re using to work remotely. So fire them up, and then members of our senior leadership will be joining us.”
Riley hesitated, but lowered her hand and pressed the laptop’s power button. It didn’t look all that impressive. It just looked like a standard 16 inch laptop. It was fast though. The screen came to life almost instantaneously with the message, “Welcome to Del Corp. Please sync your bracelet.”
Josie was already looking at Marcus and asking, “How do we sync our bracelets?”
“Fantastic question Josie,” Marcus said grinning ear to ear. Just press the clasp on the bottom end to the pad on the lower right side of your keyboard. No, no, wait!” Marcus said, and his tone shifted quickly to silky smooth, to loud and abrasive.
Josie froze, and looked up at Marcus with an eyebrow raised. She was not accustomed to people snapping at her like that. Josie also needed the money, but still, she’d rather walk away than be disrespected.
Marcus’s wide smile was back in a flash. “Sorry, sorry,” he said as he clasped his palms together apologetically and shook them twice at Josie. “Please forgive me. It’s just important that we’re in sync, when we sync.” He laughed at his own lame joke, and paused for them to follow suit. When they didn’t, he said, “Bear with me. This is my first time being a Team Lead.” He put his hand on his heart. “I will get it right next time, you have my word.”
“Can we just get on with this,” said the other blonde.
Riley thought everyone seemed annoyed now. And why wouldn’t they be? Doris had acted like leading them here had been a big inconvenience. They’d gotten ogled repeatedly on the long walk to this room. They had to wear this bracelet which was transmitting who knew what kind of biometric data to the company. And now Marcus had just yelled at them.
“Okay, here we go,” Marcus said, undeterred by their lack of enthusiasm. He began to wave his hands like a conductor of a symphony. “I’ll count it down from 3, and then everyone press your bracelet to the spot on the laptop. 3. 2. 1. Sync!”
All four women placed their bracelet on their laptop, and all four felt a sharp jab as the tiny needle under the clasp pierced their skin and injected a milligram of nanites into their bloodstream.
A chorus of surprised objections arose.
“Ow! What was-”
“Something just stuck me!”
“What the hell?!”
Every woman but Riley had complained loudly except her. She’d only made a shrill whimper. She hated shots, and whatever that was had been right under her wrist, probably hitting the vein there.
“Sorry about that,” Marcus said as he pulled out a smartphone. He began to tap at the screen. “Just give it a minute to spread through your body and then you won’t care anymore.”
“Excuse me?” Josie snapped.
‘That’s it,” the redhead said standing briskly to her feet. “I’ve had enough. Get this damn thing off of me.” She began to fumble with the clasp with shaky fingers.
“Leadership told me there’s always one,” Marcus muttered. His voice became higher and insistent. “Everyone who leaves their bracelet on for just another 50 seconds will receive a thousand dollars, even if you quit immediately after.”
“I’m gonna get a lot more than that in the lawsuit I file against this company,” the red head hissed as she looked for a watch to unclasp it. But the more she inspected it, the more her fingers didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
Marcus was pleased to see her struggle, but still looked at her warily. Then his phone pinged. “Oh wow, one of you is already online. Good. Let’s see who…ah,” he said, winking at Josie. “The one who is always just ahead of everyone else. Makes sense.”
“Online?” the redhead exclaimed. “I don’t think so!” She forced her fingers underneath the clasp, trying to create enough pressure to unfasten it. Suddenly the arm she was using to apply the pressure tensed up as if she’d just received an electric jolt. “Ah! What was that!”
“It’s just the nanites keeping you from taking off the bracelet. That’s the last line of defense. But we won’t have to worry about that for much longer because…” Marcus’s phone pinged. “There we go, you’re online now too.”
It was Josie’s turn to stand, and she offered her left hand, the hand with that accursed bracelet, to help Riley up off the couch. Riley was reaching for it as Josie said briskly, “I didn’t sign up for this. Neither did she. We’re leaving.”
A third ping. Riley’s hand was in Josie’s. She was looking up into her face when Marcus said calmly, “Blank slate.”
“Blank slate confirmed,” said three female voices, perfectly in sync and without emotion.
Riley felt Josie’s hand go limp in hers, and watched in horror as the brunette’s eyes rolled into the back of her head so that only the whites were shown.
“I don’t understand,” Riley said, hearing the panic in her voice as she leaned forward and looked at the other two women. They all had the same blank expression.
“Me neither,” Marcus drawled. “Sometimes it takes a little longer for the nanites to circulate in some people. You must be pretty stubborn Riley. But everyone succumbs to the nanites eventually. No one’s ever failed to come online in under 90 seconds.”
His eyes raked over her body now with obvious sexual interest. Riley sprang to her feet and tugged at Josie’s limp arm. “Josie! Josie answer me right now! We need to leave! We need to-”
Ping.
Riley’s heart pounded in her chest at the sound of that fourth ping. Whatever was happening to these women, was about to happen to her.
“There we go,” Marcus said with an eerie smile. “Don’t worry. When this is all over, you’re gonna think you had a fantastic first day.”
“Please don’t-” Riley began, but saw Marcus mouth the words blank slate. She was vaguely aware of her own lips moving as she said in a monotone voice, “Blank slate confirmed.” And then all she knew was ignorant bliss as her eyes rolled up into her head.
“Time to meet our corporate overlords,” Marcus said happily. He hit a button on his phone that said Upload. He selected each woman, then pressed enter.
Each bracelet came to life with a soft chime. Each woman said in a robotic voice, “Uploading. Uploading. Uploading. Upload complete.”
Riley’s blue eyes came back down, and she looked at Marcus with a wry smile. “You need to do a better job at putting them at ease, Marcus.”
Josie’s brown eyes were on Marcus as well, her voice had an edge to it. “Maybe we were too hasty in promoting him to team lead, Avery I really thought he was going to lose control there for a moment.”
The redhead was not looking at Marcus, but was running her hands up her sides and over her chest. “Now now, gentlemen. It was his first time. He’s still got the drive and charisma we’re looking for, and is doing great and recruiting clients. Let’s let him off with a warning.”
The unnamed blonde didn’t seem to be interested in Marcus at all as her hands had begun to squeeze her tight buttocks. “What an amazing specimen. Surprised I didn’t have to fight you all for the chance to have her first.”
Riley’s voice became authoritative as she addressed the blonde. “Don’t get to carried away, Jenkins. This is just about meeting them, ensuring there’s no problem with the upload process, then sending them off for their physicals.”
The blonde’s face soured as she looked at Riley. She did not stop massaging her rear. “I helped write the protocols, Avery. There’s no harm in a little groping before we log out.”
Riley gave a perverted giggle. “Yes, I know. It’s tradition. We just musn’t go too overboard in case we have to release any of them back into the wild.”
Having said this, Marcus watched enviably as the four women groped and fondled their bodies over their clothes. A few minutes ticked by, but Marcus would have gladly watched his superiors explore the new hires for as long as he was allowed.
Riley had pulled her blouse aways from her chest and was taking a long look down it. Her face made it clear that she liked what she saw. She released the fabric, letting it snap back with a little less elasticity. “Okay, that’s enough gentlemen,” she announced with finality. “I think we’ve excited poor Marcus enough.”
It was true. He had not wanted to get an erection in front of his bosses, but seeing them inhabiting the bodies of these beautiful women, making them touch themselves provocatively, he was at full mast. He positioned his hands over his front, and tried to keep from gawking.
“It’s only fair,” Josie chuckled at him. “We’re all going to have erections when we are back in our bodies. Speaking of, you already sent a girl to each of our houses, correct Marcus?”
Marcus gave a curt nod. “Yes sir. Their bracelets were activated before this meeting, and they should all be at your house by the time you log out.”
“Excellent,” Riley said, and she stepped closer to Marcus. She took one of the hands covering his erection and placed it on her breast. “Don’t worry Marcus. You managed to get them to sync their bracelets without resorting to force, which might have damaged the merchandise. So we’ll still let you do their field tests. They are the first members of your team after all.” Riley helped the man squeeze her boob softly, looking up into his eyes with a mischievous smirk. “I bet you can’t wait.”
“N-no, s-sir,” Marcus stammered.
“I do think that’s the first time I’ve seen you flustered Marcus,” the redhead said with a laugh.
Riley released Marcus’s hand and stepped back. “You know what’s next. Keep them in blank slate mode and send them to their physicals. The doctor will check for STD’s and any other illnesses or maladies that would be a disruption to our company. We only provide the best for our clients. After that, the standing brainwashing program before we sent them off with their take home bag to…” Riley trailed off, then gave a sharp laugh. “Marcus, I don’t mind if you stare, but try to keep your mouth shut when you do. You look ridiculous.”
Marcus had been trying to look the CEO, Avery Smith, in the blue eyes of this gorgeous creature. But his eyes kept wandering to other areas. He was already thinking about tomorrow’s field tests. How he’d be in Riley’s home. How he could touch her as much as he wanted. His imagination was already running wild, but Avery’s subtle chastisement had snapped him out of it.
“Yes, of…of course Avery, er, Mr. Smith.”
The corner of Riley’s mouth went up, and she raised her hand and cupped her right boob as she looked at the other women. “I think our boy’s got it bad for this one.” The women nodded back at Riley, each of them smirking as well. Back at Marcus, Riley said, “We all have our favorites, but don’t monopolize her too much. But…you are her handler, so take a few days to get her out of your system after the field tests are over.”
“If she passes that is,” Josie said quickly.
“Naturally,” Riley retorted, looking annoyed. “Marcus has been warned. Should he find any red flags, she’ll go back to her normal life. Isn’t that right Marcus.”
“Of course, sir,” Marcus replied.
“Good,” Riley said, and smiled at him. Then she blew him a kiss. “Now be a good boy and send us back.”
“Right away sir,” Marcus said. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get used to meeting his bosses this way. He quickly selected all four women on his cell phone, and disconnected them. HIs shoulders slumped a little. He knew the men were in their respective homes and could still see him on the cameras mounted all around the room. But they were probably focused on the women now at their door that would attend to those pesky erections rather than him.
Marcus, on the other hand, would have to wait until later to have his relief. What he wouldn’t give to have his way with any of the women on the couch right now. Especially Riley. But he had his orders.
With blank slate mode still active by default, he said, “Grab your laptops and follow me so we can get your physicals underway.”
“Yes sir,” the four women responded at once. Their eyes focused on the command at hand, and like obedient worker drones, the four women retrieved their laptops from the coffee table. They formed a single line behind their boss. Their movements were precise, and they marched in step as Marcus led them from the room. They followed Marcus back into the series of hallways, and up a flight of stairs. Several doors that had been closed were now suddenly open, as staff at Del Corp wanted to assess the recent new hires. Programmers, team leads, technicians, cooks, paper pushers, analysis, recruiters, marketing, and more all watched the synchronized steps of the attractive women as they marched past. This time the women didn’t mind the stares, because none of them had a thought in their head other than following their team lead.
The workers of Del Corp with free will were all picking out their favorite new hire, making a note of who they’d spend time with during their breaks in the weeks ahead. The pretty blonde just behind Marcus seemed to be the most popular candidate by far.
They eventually passed through a door that Marcus unlocked by pressing the ring he wore on his right hand against a sensor. They stepped into a well lit sterile room with medical equipment and exam tables. A pudgy older man in a doctor’s coat was there to greet them. He was flanked by two very beautiful women who wore a vacant smile and nothing else.
“Did the old men have their fun?” the doctor asked Marcus politely, although his eyes did not meet him. They were focused on his four new patients who had followed obediently after him.
Marcus let out a sigh, but smiled. “If by fun you mean taking the piss out of me, then yes.”
The doctor laughed. “Sounds like them. Well, let’s get this show on the road. New hires, each of you hop up on one of the exam tables.”
The order was received with unflinching obedience as the four women walked purposefully into the sterile room, their shoes clicking on the white tiled floor. They each picked a gynecology exam table and sat there.
“I’ll be back when you’ve run your tests,” Marcus said, and left to go to his office. On the way he grabbed a woman with a bracelet who had been programmed to clean on her weekly visit to Del Corp. She didn’t protest, but allowed herself to be dragged along. She even seemed happy to have been chosen for whatever task Marcus had in mind.
When they arrived at his office, Marcus didn’t talk to her, just stripped off her clothes, bent her over his desk, and fucked her. He thought of Riley, the pretty doe eyed blonde that had been so sweet and chaste during the interview. He thought of Avery being inside her, teasing him with her body, making him grope her. He thought of what tomorrow would bring, and he came. He told the girl to clean up the mess, and then sat down in his chair. He’d needed that. He could finally think straight again..
Back in the exam room, the doctor’s nude assistants helped the doctor with silent efficiency. He’d trained them to help draw blood, check reflexes, take blood pressure, examine pupils, ears, gums, and more. They’d help him record it all. The new hires were perfectly calm during this whole process.
The cursory examination over, the doctor ordered them to remove their clothes. The four new hires all stood and undressed quickly. There was nothing sensual about their movements, just the subconscious desire to follow the order as expediently as possible.
The doctor gave orders to his assistants to pull out the stirrups attached to the tables, then had the new hires put their feet in them. They all did with no complaint. Each of them laying slightly back, their legs spread wide for the doctor. He gave each woman a pelvic exam. They did not flinch as his fingers pushed into them. Did not make a sound. They merely laid there as if this were all routine.
“Okay, that’s that,” the doctor said as he took off his gloves. “Get dressed, new hires.” As the naked women complied, he sent an assistant to fetch Marcus. Upon his return, the doctor told him, “I’ll have the lab results before you leave today. You can take them to get fitted and supplied now.”
Marcus was aware that the doctor had just seen these women naked before he had. He was not jealous though. He considered himself patient. He’d worked hard to get where he was. And tomorrow, he’d be able to upload into any of them and have complete control of their bodies. And when they returned next week, he could order them to do all manner of sexual acts on him, and they would agree readily.
When the new hires weren’t being made to serve him sexually or one of the other employees at Del Corp, they’d be ordered to do the mundane tasks. Like cleaning, or secretarial work, or anything that anyone deemed beneath them in this place. Thanks to different women being forced to come in on different days throughout the week, they always had plenty of willing slaves to do the grunt work at headquarters. But between now and next week, the new hires were strictly off limits until the field tests had been run.
As Marcus next led the women to a series of rooms that would get their measurements for clothes, outfits, and sex toys they might need while servicing a client, Ben was doing what Riley had joked about when she left. He was making the house sparkling clean. In their first five weeks of marriage, they’d fallen into stereotypical gender roles, where Ben played video games and did nothing, and Riley did everything that needed done like laundry, cleaning, and cooking. It had been a big step for Ben to make breakfast that morning. Now he tried his hand at laundry and cleaning. He was better at them than breakfast for sure. Riley would be so happy, that maybe he could talk her into doing something kinky tonight.
Being raised in a very conservative family, Riley had been a virgin when they got married. But Ben hadn’t. Far from it. He’d never admit to being a sex addict, but considered it a possibility. Before dating Riley, he’d had a few one night stands, some long term girlfriends, and had developed quite a few kinks thanks to those women. And porn. He’d watched porn every day, and was always finding something new he’d like to try in the bedroom with a girl, but Riley had put a stop to all that when they’d got married.
Riley didn’t want him watching porn or masturbating. The first time she’d told him, he’d thought she was joking. Riley’s hurt face let him know that she wasn’t. She wanted to be enough for him. Didn’t want him looking at girls online and getting ideas for positions or roleplay. Ben had hoped that over time his bride would change her mind about some of that, but except for the infrequent blowjobs, she would only do missionary or on top.
Because of his love for her, he’d stopped watching porn and jerking off. It hadn’t been too difficult, because Riley was usually around. As they both tended to work 2nd shift, they could fuck in the morning, and then again when they both got home. But now she had a 40 hour or more job a that took her away from him during a time where he was home by himself.
The hours seemed to drag by, and even though he’d gotten blown early that morning, he was already thinking about looking up his old friend pornography by the time noon rolled around. But he knew it would most likely affect his performance that night with his wife. So he waited, and focused on making the interior of their house shine.
It was mid afternoon when Marcus got the bad news. He’d just presented the women with a small boxed meal and told them to eat. It was a flavorless, tasteless mush, and was very cheap to manufacture. They chewed and swallowed it as they were told. Marcus watched them shovel it down while he ate a steak their onsite chef had prepared. He couldn’t stop smiling, that is, until the doctor walked in.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” the doctor said gravely.
Marcus put his fork down and asked, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the problem?”
“The blonde is pregnant.”
Marcus wiped his mouth and slammed a fist on the table. “Dammit!” His eyes fell upon Riley. He did not want to lose her, but a pregnancy meant instant termination. The nanites could stop future pregnancies, but not the one she’d come in here with. “Are you sure?”
The doctor nodded, then looked at who Marcus had focused on. “Oh, sorry. Forgot you had two blondes. Not that one. The other one,” he said, pointing at the unnamed blonde who sat there quietly eating her mush.
Relief flooded Marcus. It wasn’t great that he was already down a team member, but it hadn’t been Riley. Besides, it was easy to recruit. He’d just put out another ad that promised big money while working from home.
“Kathleen,” he said sternly. The blonde now known as Kathleen stopped eating and looked at him keenly. “Pitch your food and go wait in the conference room you interviewed in last week. Turn on the monitor in there, and watch the exit interview until I come to fire you.”
“Yes sir,” Kathleen said, and without hesitation she stood, dropped her food in a trash bin, and made her way to the conference room.
After she exited, the doctor reported the rest of his findings. “All the rest are very healthy. Two of them have been sexually active however,” he said, pointing at Riley and the redhead. “Their swabs had traces of sperm under the microscope. Could be a one night stand, or something more serious. Easiest way is just to ask and-”
Fearing that he might hear something he didn’t want to, Marcus cut him off. “Thanks doctor, I’ll take it from here.”
“But the board will want to-” the doctor began with a raised eyebrow.
Anger rose in Marcus, but he tapered it down and replied calmly, “Don’t worry about the board I will handle it. If I find any problems during the field tests, I’ll take the necessary steps to deal with them.”
The doctor let out a knowing sigh. “Ah, I get it. You really want to field test them. Fair enough.”
“So you’ll leave that out of the report?”
“If she gets the greenlight,” the doctor said, pointing at Riley, “You let me have first dibs when she comes back in.”
‘You can have my sloppy seconds,’ Marcus thought. Out loud he said. “I think we can make that happen.”
The doctor extended a hand, and Marcus shook it. “Well then, I found no traces of sexual activity. See you next week, ladies.”
They did not stay goodbye, or give any other parting niceties. They just sat there. Their meal finished, and the empty box on their laps. They simply stared straight ahead, and awaited their next command.
Marcus ushered them to their last stop for their first day. This room had several cubicle workstations, each with a laptop that resembled the ones they would be taking home. Marcus had them each log on, and click on a program that walked them through an endless series of data entry. They copied one set of numbers from one place on the screen to another. Dragged one file here, another there. They opened spreadsheet after spreadsheet. None of it meant anything, but served one purpose. It helped cement the illusion. It gave the lie a solid foundation on which to stand.
Should these women ever question in the outside world what their job really entailed, the nanites would lead their minds back to this place. This moment. Where they dragged and clicked and typed over and over again. It’s what they would think they were doing all day instead of doing menial tasks and getting fucked. It’s what they think they would be doing in their homes, even as client after client came to see them to use their bodies. Just another boring day, entering facts and figures.
But as boring as they might remember it being, they would never want to leave. They would be so happy with their job. Because as they stared at their monitors, they each began to intermittently flashed the core tenets they would come to live by until they were released from their employ.
Over and over again during those last few hours, the following messages were repeated on a loop.
You love Del Corp.
You will be faithful to Del Corp and its employees.
You will not draw undue attention to yourself outside of work.
You never want to take off your bracelet.
When your bracelet pings, you will log onto your computer at work within 30 minutes. If unable, you will call your team lead.
Always do what your team lead tells you to do.
Always believe whatever your team lead tells you.
When you are on Del Corp property, you will be an obedient slut, doing whatever tasks required of you.
You will feel grateful to be of use to any Del Corp employee.
You will take good care of your body, because it belongs to Del Corp, its employees, and its clients.
You live to serve your team lead, Del Corp employees, and those we deem clients.
You no longer care about having a social life.
You no longer care about dating anyone.
If you are currently dating someone, you will break up with them as soon as possible in a way that does not bring undue attention to Del Corp.
You do not seek sexual intimacy outside the confines of Del Corp employees and clients.
You are focused on being the best employee you can be.
You will only ever remember doing data entry when working remotely.
You will stow your take home bag in a secure place in your home and not look in it unless directed to by a client or team lead.
You will do everything in your power to protect Del Corp and its employees.
When asked, you will always describe your job as ‘boring data entry.’
If pressed for more information about Del Corp beyond that, you will respond with, ‘We value our clients’ privacy so I can’t elaborate further.’
Should anyone seem a threat to Del Corp, you will report to your team leader as soon as possible and await further instructions.
Riley blinked. She felt like she’d been staring at this screen forever, but saw in the lower left hand corner of her monitor that there was only five minutes left of work today! The job was tedious, but not at all hard. She found she didn’t mind it though. She was going to love working for Del Corp, and was thankful to have gotten Marcus as her team lead.
Marcus walked between their cubicles and announced, “Time to punch out ladies. You’ll find your laptop and take home bag are waiting for you at the exit. You all did wonderful today. I don’t see you all back again here until next…” he checked his phone, “a week from tomorrow.”
Riley’s face fell a bit. In such a short time she’d grown to love this place and her team. She looked at the others, and saw their faces mirror hers.
“I know, I’ll miss you too,” Marcus said with a wide grin. “Say, what did you all think of that delicious steak dinner we had for lunch today?”
“Steak…dinner?” Josie asked, furrowing her brow.
This was a simple test to see if the programming had worked. It was one thing for them to be in blank slate mode. They were more like mindless functioning robots in that state. The real test came when they were back to themselves.
“Yes,” Marcus said confidently, trusting that the nanites and brainwashing they’d received would dictate their reality. “You all had a wonderful steak dinner. You thought it was amazing. You even licked your plate clean Josie, remember?”
Josie blushed. She did remember now. It had been the best steak of her life. “I guess…I was just really hungry.”
“Thank you for feeding us such a great meal!” Riley exclaimed. “Do we get to eat that good every time we come?”
Marcus stepped towards her and said with a wink, “I think you’ll always leave here with something yummy in your bellies.”
All the girls smiled at each other, already looking forward to next Tuesday’s lunch time.
“Ladies, you’ll believe whatever I tell you, correct?” Marcus asked.
“Yes sir,” the three new hires said in perfect unison.
“And you’ll do whatever I tell you, correct?”
“Yes sir!” the ladies replied cheerily.
“Good,” Marcus said, his smile curving into something sinister. “I want you each logging in at 9am sharp every day and running the data entry program. Keep familiarizing yourself with it so that we can eliminate possible errors for our clients.” Doing this would ensure the brainwashing cemented itself in their brains.
Marcus continued. “I’ll be chatting with each of you individually over the next few days. Riley, you’ll be first up tomorrow. It’ll be a video chat, so please wear something that shows off your boobs.”
Riley’s thoughts hit a wall suddenly. The training, the steak dinner, all of that had been great, but, to ask Riley to show off her boobs on a conference call was…was…
Marcus watched Riley’s face contort while the nanites made her accept the programming. Her resistance met a torrent of words that seemed to imprint on her very soul.
‘I will do what my team lead tells me to do. I live to serve my team lead. I will obey him. I will wear whatever Marcus tells me, because he is my team lead and I am his obedient slut.
Riley’s face smoothed out, and she beamed at him before saying happily, “Yes sir.”
“Good girl,” Marcus said, then looked at the other two. “And I’ll expect you both to do the same. Actually Josie, you wear nothing at all.”
The two women had already been having an internal struggle after hearing what he’d said to Riley, so they were quicker at both saying, “Yes, sir,” but not quite as in sync.
“Make sure our video chats are in a private area in your house. An office space, bedroom, bathroom, whatever. And you’re not to be disturbed during this time.”
All of this was to limit exposure to a family member, boyfriend, girlfriend, or roommate. They could all be dealt with over a short period of time, but the field test was crucial in ensuring Del Corp’s safety protocols.”
“If all goes well after those video chats, you’ll be ready to handle clients. I hope to be sending you each several by the end of the week. Now head home. You’ve all done great work today.”
Marcus led them back the way they came. The walk didn’t seem as far now. The building that had once seen drab and foreboding now felt so much like home. She wished she didn’t have to leave. She loved Del Corp.
“I’m going to be thinking about that steak all week,” Josie confessed to Riley as they stepped out into the sunlight.
“Me too!” Riley laughed.
“I can’t believe I licked the plate in front of all of you. That’s…not something I’d usually do.”
The image swam vividly in Riley’s mind. Josie’s hands picking up a white plate with the remnants of savory juice on it. Josie’s face drawing near it. Her tongue sticking out and licking it from top to bottom until it was all clean. She found her own mouth watering as she remembered the taste of it.
“If I had my plate in front of me right now, I’d do it too.”
They said goodbye as they headed to their own cars, and headed home.
Marcus went to the conference room where the pregnant blonde was. Kathleen had watched the exit interview video over and over again so the message of it would be very clear in her mind.
It had read as follows:
I am grateful for the opportunity, but this job just wasn’t for me. It was my decision to leave. I will find work elsewhere. I will surrender my bracelet, and leave immediately..
Marcus pulled her up on his phone and took her out of blank slate mode, and deactivated the nanites in her body. Without the bracelet, they would pass out of her naturally over the next 24 hours, but the brainwashing she’d received should hold.
Lastly, he put his hand on the bracelet and said, “Release.” With a smooth click, it unlatched, and hung loosely on Kathleen’s arm.
A few seconds passed, and Kathleen blinked and looked around as if waking from sleep.
“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Marcus said, extending a hand to her.
“No, no,” she said sincerely as she accepted it. “I’m so grateful for the opportunity, but this job just isn’t for me. I’ll just have to find work elsewhere.”
Marcus nodded, then gestured towards the door. She took off her bracelet and set it on the table, then walked out. As soon as she was out of sight, Marcus shook his head. She would have been a great addition. Pity he never got to field test or fuck her. Maybe someday the company would start accepting pregnant women. Or married women for that matter. He had a client that would pay a small fortune for the chance to have regular sessions with a married woman. Apparently it was a big fetish of his. But right now the board’s mandate was clear. They only enslaved and hopped unattached women that would not raise suspicion. They wanted to be in business for a long, long time.
The whole drive home Riley kept thinking how much she loved Del Corp. How much she loved her team. Marcus, Josie, and… and there were two more, weren’t there? Another blonde like her, but…but she hadn’t seen her on the way out. But the beautiful redhead had been there. How had she not gotten her name? That was very rude of her, and quite embarrassing!
As she questioned this egregious oversight, the memory of typing numbers and clicking a mouse came into her mind very strongly. She just hadn’t had a chance was all. All she could remember was her time at the computer, and a wonderful steak dinner that the company had so generously provided. She was so lucky to have gotten the chance to work for them. She would make them proud. She belonged there. She belonged to Del Corp. All of her belonged to them. Her mind and her body.
Riley had been so enraptured by how amazing her orientation had been, that she almost forgot to pick up food on the way home. But as her stomach growled, she remembered she needed to take care of her body, so she stopped by a fast food place. Instead of her typical burger and fries, she got a salad. She paid for it and was about to pull onto the street, when she realized she’d forgotten Ben. How could she forget her wonderful husband? She drove back around, and got him a salad too.
Ben was famished by the time Riley walked through the front door, but first made a grand sweeping gesture at the house. “Ta da!” he exclaimed as she walked past him carrying a large black duffel and two fast food bag. She didn’t seem to notice how he’d swept, mopped, done the dishes, and had the place cleaner than it had been in a couple of weeks.
In fact, she didn’t say anything, didn’t even give him a kiss. She set the fast food bags on the table, and then disappeared into their guest bedroom that would now serve as Riley’s office. She stowed the bag in the highest part of the closet in there, and moved a box in front of it. Hopefully that would keep the contents secure. She wondered what was in the bag, and had the desire to check. But then very strongly in her mind came a pulsing thought.
You will not look in it unless directed to by a client or team lead.
Riley’s eyes unfocused and heard herself say aloud in a monotone voice, “I will not look in it unless directed by a client or team lead.” She looked around. What had she been thinking? Oh yes. She needed to take care of her body. She went back to the dining room and sat down at the table.
Ben was now feeling a little ruffled. “Uh, ahem, nothing? No, wow hon, the place looks great! This must have taken you all day.’”
Riley was unpacking her salad, but did stop to look around. “Oh, yeah, wow,” she said with less enthusiasm in her voice than Ben had been hoping for. “Come eat, Ben, and I’ll tell you what a great company Del Corp is.”
For the love of his wife, Ben chose to let it go and joined her at the table. His face fell though as he realized he was also eating a salad. “Hey, what was in that bag you brought in?”
“Work stuff,” Riley said quickly. She then proceeded to prattle on about how amazing Del Corp is. How great her team lead Marcus was. How all the people there were great. How her clients would great and how she might have some by the end of the week. How she couldn’t wait to log on to her new company laptop tomorrow to start working hard.
As she unpacked her day, the realized that she would have to break up with Ben. That was unfortunate, but it was a directive from the company, so she’d have to go through with it. She should do it now, but the way he was looking at her, like everything she said was so important, like she were the only woman in the world. Despite a growing desire to tell him they were through then and there, she convinced herself to do it tomorrow, or maybe even push it off till the weekend. She just wanted to stay with him a bit longer.
It was at this point, Ben got a word in edgewise. “So, what exactly will you be doing?”
“Boring data entry,” Riley said wistfully, as if it was all she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
“Uh, wow, you make it sound so exciting,” Ben quipped. “Seriously though, what kind of data entry? What kind of information will you be-”
Riley’s eye twitched, and then words burst forcefully out of her, “We value our clients’ privacy so I can’t elaborate further.” She took a bite of salad and considered the matter settled.
Ben was taken aback. “C’mon Riles, we’re not dating. We’re married. Husband and wife. Surely you can tell me of all people.”
Her husband’s words changed everything. It was true. They weren’t dating. They were married. She would not have to break up with him because they were not dating. She checked them carefully against what she knew of Del Corp’s mandates, and her mind seemed to accept this. She was so relieved.
Ben laughed at her silence. “What? Are they a dark and shady organization that is trying to enslave the general populace?”
Riley suddenly tensed. Ben was asking her to go against company policy by telling him what they did there. Why couldn’t he just accept her answer? Did he pose a threat to Del Corp? She tried to calm herself, tried to make sure not to draw any undue attention. With a sweeter but still serious disposition, she said, “Ben, honey, I’m telling you I can’t talk about it. So drop it.”
Ben looked down at his salad. This evening was not going as planned. She knew he hated salad. Why had she brought him one? She hadn’t even called and asked what he wanted. It’s like he’d been an afterthought. Surely the honeymoon stage couldn’t be over already. He tried to let it all pass. He loved her and she loved him. They’d go to bed together soon. They’d make love. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’m gonna go make a sandwich.”
Riley didn’t stop him, but was a little perturbed he didn’t seem to appreciate the salad she’d brought him because… because he… no. No!. Only she needed to take care of her body. But, as his wife, she wanted him to take care of his body too. Just, for her, it was a mandate. She NEEDED to take care of her body. If he wanted to make a sandwich that was fine. She found herself calming quickly, and got up as soon as she was done.
As Ben sat down at a vacant table, Riley went to work out on their treadmill. It had been a wedding present, and she’d only used it once. Now it seemed very important. She needed to take care of her body, and working out was a good way to do that.
A disconnect grew through the night as the couple seemed to keep going their separate ways. Ben tried to get her to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, but she got lost in a skin care regimen that seemed to take forever.
As it got dark, Ben heard Riley say from their bedroom, “Goodnight, Ben.” And then the door shut.
Ben quickly got up from the couch to join his wife in their marital bed. He had his clothes off in a flash, and got under the covers. She was turned on her side away from him. He loved the feeling of pressing his boner against her round ass. But Instead of her warm, smooth, naked skin, he pressed up against fluffy pajamas. He tried not to sound indignant as he asked, “Why are you wearing clothes?” They hadn’t been wearing clothes to bed for the last five weeks, save some skimpy lingerie that Riley would put on sometimes.
“I was chilly,” Riley said simply.
“But, I always warm you up, don’t I?” Ben said hopefully as he wrapped an arm around her waist. His hand lifted up the bottom of her shirt, and he felt her skin. It traveled up quickly to her breast. He was already so hard. He was glad he’d waited for her. He would be inside her soon and everything would be perfect again.
As Riley felt her husband’s hands fondle her breasts, she felt a spark between her legs, and butterflies in her tummy. She wanted to roll over. To kiss him. To let his hands eagerly explore her as they so often had. To let him be in awe of her body. It was his after all.
But that…that wasn’t right. It wasn’t his body. Her body belonged to Del Corp. And she did not seek sexual intimacy from anyone but Del Corp employees and clients. Her body belonged to them now. This fact seemed to repent nonstop in her mind as she slowly brought her hand down, and pushed Ben’s away from her breasts. The brief twinge of sexual desire had faded entirely.
“What gives, Riles?” Ben asked, hurt in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if you thought I was prying. I’ll respect that you can’t talk about your work.”
“It’s not that,” Riley said, feeling bad for turning him down. Why couldn’t he understand? She loved him, but he was not a Del Corp employee or client. But she couldn’t tell him that, because it would draw undue attention to Del Corp. So she made up another excuse. “I’m just…tired, honey. Long day, and I gotta be up early in the morning to log on to work.”
“I’ll…I’ll be super fast,” Ben said.
“No, Ben,” Riley answered quietly but firmly.
Ben’s boner was in full retreat. “Can I hold you at least?”
Riley thought about that. Holding wasn’t sexual, and Ben was her husband. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
So he did. He held her tight and whispered in her ear, “I love you. I really do. Maybe we can do it first thing in the morning.”
“Maybe,” Riley hedged. But she knew she would not let him have her. She was already planning to be up before him. To shower and shave her legs and maybe even put some makeup before she found an outfit that would accentuate her cleavage for Marcus. Her body belonged to him now, and the employees and clients of Del Corp. But she wouldn’t tell Ben any of that. It would hurt him to know that. He was her husband after all. They would be together till death do us part. So instead, she said what she knew to still be true, “I love you too.”
Ben hoped she’d change her mind, but soon heard his wife’s breathing change, and knew that she’d drifted off. He regretted not masturbating earlier then. He thought about getting up and going to the living room to rub one out, but he still had hope for tomorrow morning. So in the end, he slept.
When he woke up the next day, he rolled over to kiss his bride, but her spot was empty. He checked his phone and saw that it was almost 9am. He sat up and called out, “Riles!”
“Getting ready to log on for work honey,” she replied from the kitchen.
Ben swore and jumped out of bed. He was naked as usual first thing in the morning. He walked quickly to the kitchen and saw that his wife looked incredible. She always looked very beautiful to him, but here she was in a yellow buttoned top that he’d only seen her wear once before, plus a short black skirt that drew copious amounts of attention to her long legs. His eyes were still on the top though, because the top three buttons weren’t fastened, and her cleavage was fully on display.
“You’re…working from home today, right?” Ben asked, perplexed, but glad she wouldn’t be showing off her amazing rack to a bunch of drooling office mates.
“Yeah,” Riley replied excitedly. “Just getting my coffee and going to go into the guest bedroom. I finished converting it into an office early this morning. Nothing fancy, just a card table and your gamer chair. We can get an actual desk and my own office chair when I get my first paycheck.”
“Yeah, no prob babe,” Ben said hurriedly, even though he was a little miffed that he wouldn’t have his gamer chair today. “Can we please make time for a quickie before you-”
Riley was already fervently shaking her head. “I don’t want to be late. I’m to log on promptly at 9am.”
“Will you get a break?”
Riley thought about that. She wasn’t sure. Surely she’d be able to walk away for bathroom breaks and a lunch. “I should be able to, yes, but I’ll know more once I log on as to what that looks like. We can probably have lunch together.”
The way she smiled at him while talking made Ben’s heart melt. He felt like some of the inexplicable distance that had materialized last night was dissipating. “I’d like that, babe. Yeah. I’ll make us something nice.” He remembered their diminishing food supplies and then said, “Like ramen.”
She laughed, and it lit up the room. “My favorite.” She moved forward to kiss him, but at the last second, swerved and walked by him. She didn’t want Ben to get the wrong idea, because kissing could lead to sexual intimacy, and her body belonged to Del Corp and its employees and clients.
That act had felt cruel to Ben. He didn’t like whatever this was. Everything had seemed normal for a second, and then she acted like a stranger towards him. He followed her into her new office area. They still had two minutes before she needed to log on.
Riley was opening up her laptop and about to sit down when she realized he was behind her. “What are you doing?” she snapped. “You’re naked, and you’re in my workspace! Are you trying to get me fired!”
“Why would it matter if I’m naked?” Ben argued. “It’s not like they’re gonna see me and-”
“But they might,” Riley said frantically. “I’m having a video chat with my team lead first thing! If he sees your penis, I imagine that’d be it for me!” She waved him away with both hands.
Ben’s shoulders slumped, and he left the room.
“Close the door!” Riley called after he’d taken a few steps from the office. “I don’t want you overhearing anything confidential.”
“It’s not like I’m going to sell your company’s secrets to a foreign power or-” but he stopped, because she was glowering at him. He just nodded, and shut the door. It was going to be a long day. He walked back to the kitchen and began to make himself breakfast.
Riley was staring at the monitor, waiting for her marching orders, when she saw an alert come up that she was receiving a video chat request. She clicked on it, and saw Marcus’s face. He looked very happy to see her. She pushed her chest out so he could see in the camera that she’d done like she’d been told.
“Hey, Riley, is there anyone in the room right now with you?” Marcus asked as he studied her low cut top very closely.
“No, sir,” she said confidently.
“Good. Are you ready for your field test?”
“My what?” Riley asked curiously. She remembered a video call, but didn’t know what the term ‘field test’ meant.
“In a moment, I’m going to upload into your body and have a look around your home. I’m going to dig into as much of your personal life as possible to make sure there’s no external plans or people that might pose a threat to Del Corp. It’s all company policy.”
Marcus loved telling her all this, knowing that she’d be forced to accept it.
Riley furrowed her brow. She didn’t want Marcus to be in her home. To be…did he say in her body? But even as she tried to resist, the nanites did their job, smoothing her face, making her compliant to his will. And why should she be? She trusted Marcus completely. “Whatever you need,” she said. “Does that mean I won’t be doing data entry today?”
“You will actually. At least, that’s what you’ll remember doing. That’s what you’re going to do right now. Pull up the data entry program and begin moving the numbers around.”
Riley did as she was told. A spreadsheet with several numbers came up and began to flash for her to drag it from one place to another.
Marcus saw on his tablet that she was following his instructions to the letter. “Good. Now I want you to look at it. Remember it. All you did today was work on this data entry program.”
“All I did today was work on this data entry program,” she repeated.
“Excellent,” Marcus said. “Stay there. I’ll be joining you very soon.” He disconnected the chat, and pressed more buttons. A large pod opened in front of him. He was in the upload room. There were 64 pods in here, and more were being added every month. Several were already filled by the retired sex workers on staff, such as his number two Doris. A few were also used by the occasional client who was willing to pay through the nose to experience life in another body.
That’s what Marcus would be doing for the next several hours. He’d be scouring Riley’s life. Making sure she posed no threat. He certainly hoped she didn’t. He was delighted to have her on his team. He’d enjoy being in her body. And he’d be getting paid very well to do it.
He pressed a button on his phone, and the pod shut, and began to hum.
70 miles away in her home, Riley’s bracelet pinged. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and heard herself saying, “Uploading. Uploading. Uploading. Upload complete.”
“Finally,” she said as she looked down at herself with a hungry smile. “Look at you, all dressed up for the job. Good girl.” Her hands came up and were a hair away from her chest when she stopped and looked at the monitor. Her fingers minimized the screen so she could see herself in the laptop’s camera. “That’s better,” she said.
She brought two eager hands to her chest. Marcus was reminded how good they felt when Avery had made him grope her yesterday. Now he had unfettered access to them. He was supposed to do a perimeter check, but he’d said she lived alone. He would explore her a bit first. Let himself feel the pleasures of her body. Then and only then would he begin a deep dive into her life.
Riley’s hands began furiously unbuttoning the few buttons she’d fastened on her top. There was still one to go at the bottom but she yanked it forcefully off, sending the last button plinking off the wall. The top landed on the floor. Her hands went behind her back, and for several moments, Marcus struggled to unclasp the bra. The nanites did not give him access to her muscle memory, and he had only uploaded a couple of times before as a part of his own training. Since he’d be uploading a lot more in the future though, he'd better learn how to remove a bra from this perspective more proficiently.
At last he was rewarded with the clasp releasing, and he felt gravity pull at the weight on Riley’s chest. The bra joined the blouse on the floor and two double D’s bounced in the monitor. Riley’s body was heating up exponentially, especially between her legs. Marcus wanted to touch there as quickly as he could, so he stood up from the chair and pulled the skirt down. He saw pink cotton panties underneath. Riley took a deep breath, then pulled those down as well. Neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair covered her slit. Marcus made her watch the monitor as her right hand went straight there. The middle finger felt the soft coarseness of the hair, and then her lower lips parted and there was only silky wet bliss.
“Fuck!” Riley called out louder than Marcus meant to. “You’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you? Masturbating on company time. Well, you’re gonna be doing a lot more than that soon.”
After being kicked out of her office by his wife, Ben had gone to put on a plain white shirt and gray sweatpants. He’d eaten breakfast and eventually ended up moping in their living room. It was a small two bedroom house. The office was adjacent to the living room. When Riley yelled ‘Fuck!’ Ben heard it. It took a lot to make his wife swear, so he assumed something was very wrong. He leapt up to investigate. He didn’t care about confidentiality in that moment, and pushed the door open. His jaw dropped. Her back was to him, but he had no problem seeing his wife on the monitor.
For a split second, he thought his wife was getting off to internet porn. But it wasn’t porn. It was her. She was recording herself on the laptop with her legs spread, her finger frantically rubbing her pussy while her other hand wildly fondled her boobs.
He’d never seen her behave in such a way. Was she doing this for him? So he’d have something to wank to while she was working? To him, it was the hottest she’d ever looked, and blurted out, “You’re so fucking sexy babe. Let me watch.”
Riley’s eyes had been closed as she slipped a finger deep inside herself. But they flew open as she heard the sound of a man behind her. She whirled around in the spinning chair, a look of annoyed confusion on her face. She made no attempt to cover herself, or even pause masturbating. All she said was, “Who the hell are you?”
To be continued…
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 be seen during a small window later this week.
So that Friday, Riley found herself an hour away with a clipboard in her lap, filling out a paper application. She’d just written her new name and still got a thrill from it a whole five weeks later. That’s how long she’d been married. Her mind drifted to Ben, standing there all handsome in his tux, looking at her like she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Her blonde, shoulder length hair had been adorned with flowers. Her face hidden behind her veil. She’d always cherish the moment when he’d lifted it over her head and mouthed, ‘Wow.’ She hadn’t been able to stop smiling. The butterflies had been nonstop that magical day, and they returned quickly every time she thought about it.
She loved being Mrs. Ben Harper. Loved being married. She was at the part of the application that asked for the relationship status. Married or single. With a bit of a flourish, she brought her pen over the box that said married. She hovered over it dramatically. She was about to make an indelible x, when the applicant to her right, a pretty brunette, cleared her throat.
“Don't,” she whispered. “Check single, or you don't stand a chance.”
“Excuse me?” Riley whispered back. Companies were not legally allowed to hire people based on whether they were married or not.
The brunette scanned the room, making sure no other ears were tracking their hushed whispers, then said softly, “My roommate already works here. She told me discreetly that they only hire people who aren’t married. Do what you want, but if you really want the job, don’t let on that you’re married.”
“Thanks…” Riley said hesitantly. Why would a data entry job care at all about whether or not she was married? She looked around the room and saw a total of 11 candidates including herself. She didn’t know how many would be offered a job. Maybe just one or two of them. She wasn’t particularly proficient at data entry, but she was a fast learner. She’d do whatever it took to secure financial stability for her and Ben.
This could change everything for them. Ben wouldn’t like that she’d have to lie about being married to him to get the job, but she wouldn’t have to tell him. It’s not like the company was going to come to her house. So she took a breath, and checked the box that said single.
The brunette whispered out the side of her mouth, “Good call. Best of luck in your interview.”
“You too,” Riley said.
A handsome man with dark hair and a thousand watt smile stepped out of the adjoining conference room. He picked up the sign in sheet with every applicant's name, and then scanned the room. “Josephine?” he asked in a clear, deep voice.
The brunette stood, smoothed her pantsuit and said, “That’s me.”
The man beamed at her. “Right this way,” and gestured for her to join him in the conference room.
Before she went, Josephine extended a hand to Riley. “If we end up working together, you can call me Josie.”
Riley giggled and took it. “I sure hope we do, Josie. I’m Riley.”
Josie winked and gave Riley’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “I know, I saw it on your application.” With that Josie headed into the interview.
Ten minutes later, she came out with a confident smile on her face and gave Riley a big thumbs up. “Piece of cake.”
“Did they offer you the job?” Riley asked with wide eyes.
Josie nodded. “On the spot. I’m to report back here on Monday.”
Riley felt her stomach lurch as she thought about how this might affect her odds, but smiled gamely. “Congrats. I hope my interview goes as well as yours.”
“Just be yourself.” Josie leaned down and whispered in Riley’s ear. “And be single.”
Riley laughed softly. “Got it.”
As Josie left the waiting room, Riley found herself wishing Josie could have stayed for moral support until it was her turn. She wished Ben could have come for the same reason, but that might have cost her her shot if her husband had tagged along.
Two more applicants came and went. One was a guy who came out with slumped shoulders. The other was a striking red headed woman who walked out with head held high and a confident swagger in her hips. It was clear that only one of them had gotten the job.
Riley observed that none of the men came out looking like they’d had an offer. Rather, it was only the women. Specifically, beautiful women.
Doubts flooded Riley’s mind again as her name was finally called. She stood up and walked towards the open door, but as she did, she wondered if she was willing to work for a company that seemed biased towards looks, gender, and marital status. If she wanted that, she could just go back to her last job, or the one before that, or the one before that.
But she remembered quickly that none of those places were going to pay 80 grand a year, so she put on her game face. For that much money, she even went so far as to chide herself for not wearing something low cut to show off her impressive cleavage. Her jiggly chest certainly kept her husband’s attention. But she’d opted for a pale blue blouse that gave her the conservative look she preferred to have in public. Hopefully that wasn’t a deal breaker.
Finally it was her turn, and she stepped into the conference room for her interview. There were two people on the other side of a long table. The handsome man that called in the candidates, and a woman. The man came around the desk, and closed the door behind her, then offered his hand. “I’m Marcus,” he said kindly. He gestured towards the woman that hadn’t moved, but was perusing a file on the table. “This is Doris.”
Doris was much older than Marcus. Marcus was maybe in his mid thirties, early forties, but Doris looked like she was going on a hundred and twenty. Deep wrinkles and sagging jowls made Riley think that she’d judged Del Corp too harshly. Clearly they didn’t just care about looks if Doris worked here.
When Riley stopped looking at Doris and glanced back at Marcus, she noticed his eyes bounce up quickly to hers. He’d been looking at her chest. She kept the smile plastered on her face, but inside thought, “You’ll never see ‘em perv. They belong to my husband.”
Marcus took Riley’s application and took it to his side of the table. Riley took a seat across from them. Riley noticed Doris glanced at her application, putting a bony finger near the section that indicated her relationship status. She nodded and gave what could have been a sound of approval, or begrudging interest.
Marcus smiled, and tapped his right hand on the table, as he perused more of her application. The silver ring that he wore on that hand made a loud ting ting sound as he tapped. After his cursory glance, the interview began. There was a back and forth about Riley’s employment history. Some questions about her computer proficiency. Doris had frowned at that part, but Marcus had seemed undeterred.
Riley thought she’d answered all the questions well. Maybe everything was going her way. Then Doris finally fixed her eyes on her and she felt the color leave her face.
As Doris spoke, Riley was reminded of every mean spinster she’d ever seen in movies. “Miss Harper,” Doris began, putting an emphasis on the ‘Miss,’ “We are looking for someone who is motivated team player. You might be called on to perform a task for the company at all hours. Would that be a problem?”
Thinking about her first paycheck, Riley didn’t hesitate. “No, ma’am.”
Doris’s eyes became narrow slits. “Is there anything, or anyone, in your life that might slow you down or get in the way. Anyone you might be…beholden too?”
Had Riley not had the earlier conversation with Josie, she might not have immediately seen this as a way to ask about her relationship status without directly asking about it. It clearly was a big deal. But given that it truly was none of their business, she again answered, “Nope. It’s just me right now. Nothing tying me down. Completely single and live by my lonesome.” She stopped after that, worried she might have laid it on a little too thick.
Marcus smile grew very wide at that answer, and he shared a look with Doris, who also gave a smile, although a very tight lipped one.
“Well, we think you’ll be a perfect fit, Riley. We’d like you to start Monday.”
Riley’s jaw dropped. “So I got the job!” she squealed, wanting to leap up and bounce around the room.
“You got the job!” Marcus repeated, standing up and buttoning his suit. He came around the table and for a second Riley thought he was going to hug her, but then he put out his hand and said, “Welcome to the Del Corp family.”
She took it and enthusiastically said to him and Doris, “Thank you. Thank you! I won’t let you down.”
She then strode out confidently from the conference room. It would be a long drive home, but that was no problem now. She had a high paying job! She couldn’t wait to tell her husband.
Before they called the next candidate, Marcus said, “I’m going to enjoy that one. She’s just my type.”
Doris nodded smugly. “Me too. There’s definitely a demand for busty blondes from the clients. And there’s a real sweetness about her too. She’ll be in high demand for sure.”
An hour later, Ben was thrilled when his wife told him the news, but the money Riley was being offered almost seemed too good to be true though. “So…you’re gonna be doing what exactly?”
“It’s data entry basically for a bunch of rich clients I guess. It can’t be too hard though, cause they didn’t seem too worried about my work history.”
Ben gave his wife a wry smile and asked, “Was it a man who interviewed you?”
Riley crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Just what are you implying?”
“Only that you’re super hot, even with that blouse buttoned all the way to the top.”
Riley’s eyebrows shot up in mock annoyance. “I’ll have you know that it was a man AND a woman.”
“So they both had the hots for you?”
Riley took a playful swat at her husband, who backed out of reach at the last second. A second later, her fingers began unbuttoning her blouse from the top down. “If this outfit bothers you so much, I’ll just have to take it off.”
As a silky black bra came into view, Ben’s mouth began to water. It had been almost 10 hours since they’d had sex. Far too long for the newlywed couple. “Yeah. Yeah you should definitely take it off.”
“Are you saying that I only got the job because of my body?”
“I would never say such a thing,” Ben said, keen to not jeopardize his chances of getting some.
“Would YOU give me the job because of my body?” Riley asked as she reached behind to unfasten the bra.
“I would give you the job and a raise and immediately make you CEO for a glimpse of your boobs alone.”
She giggled, and he saw the bra tighten as she pulled at the clasp, then the release. He saw the tops of her boobs wobble as gravity tried to let them escape. But Riley held the bra in place with one hand, while the other slowly pulled down the straps. She loved how Ben looked at her. It was okay for him to look. She so wanted him to. He was still so captivated by her body, even after having seen it so many times. The anticipation of getting to see her boobs never failed to get him excited. And that’s what she wanted right then. To get him very excited, and to take her. She couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.
“Wow,” Riley teased as she held the bra in place. “So I just have to show you my boobs, and you’ll give me the whole damn company?”
“I’d give you the whole world.”
“Good answer.” The bra fell. Boobs bounced out.
Riley tackled her man, and more clothes were quickly discarded so they could make love on their living room floor.
Ben was not a morning person, but that following Monday, he rose early to make his wife breakfast in bed. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and juice. It was a sweet gesture, but cooking had never been his forte. He burned everything but the juice, and even that was a little close.
He still happily brought it to her on a tray, but when he entered their bedroom, found that his wife was already up and half dressed in bra and panties. “Babe,” he whined. “You’re supposed to still be in bed!”
Riley turned and saw the barely edible breakfast her man had prepared. Her smile was radiant as she sauntered towards him. “You are the sweetest husband I could ever asked for,” she gushed. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
She threw her arms around his neck, causing the contents of the tray to rattle precariously as Ben did his best to save it. He lost the juice. Its contents hit the carpet of their bedroom, but still he tried to salvage the moment. “Seriously Riley, get in bed!”
Riley gave a cute pout that she used when she wanted to get her way. It always worked on her husband. “But I don’t have time.”
Ben faltered at her cute face, but said, “Nuh uh, there’s still plenty of time for you to eat and get ready.”
She kissed his lips and said, “Not if I do this.” And she stepped back, and sank to her knees. As she did, she pulled down Ben’s boxers.
As soon as Ben saw what his wife intended to do, his dick raced to catch up, getting hard so fast it hit the underside of the tray he was still holding. “No, this is your big day!” he protested. “I’m the one who’s trying to do something for you!”
Riley giggled as she took the tray from him and placed it on the floor. “I know,” she said sweetly. “And its that fact that makes me want to suck you off Mr. Harper. So shh.” She took him into her mouth. She wasn’t the best at cocksucking, but loved the sounds Ben made as she slid her tongue up and down his shaft. His little whimpers of pleasure were so cute and sexy. She loved being able to please him. She loved him so very much.
She swallowed down what he gave her, and left him to eat the breakfast. She brushed her teeth, finished dressing, and grabbed a power bar in the kitchen. She was almost out the door when Ben called out, “Wait!”
“I gotta go Ben, it’s an hour away,” Riley said in mock exasperation. But still, she waited for her husband to walk quickly towards her so he could embrace her, picking her up off her feet and kissing her.
He didn’t care that his dick had been in her mouth minutes ago. He was so proud of her. Loved her so much. Would do anything for her. “Thank you for being so awesome. I know you’re gonna go kick some ass today.”
“Just have the house clean and dinner on the table when I come back, babe,” Riley said in as low a voice as she could muster.
‘Yeah, I can do breakfast again,” Ben offered seriously.
Riley made a small grimace and said, “Uh, ha ha, just kidding. I’ll pick up something for us on the way home. You’ve done enough cooking.”
Ben hung his head. “It’s the thought that counts right.”
“Oh, you mean the thought that got you a blowjob? Yeah, I’d say that worked out for ya.”
They laughed and hugged again, and then Riley was out the door.
An hour later, Riley showed up for her new hire orientation, along with three other candidates she’d seen in the waiting room.
Looks like no one else had made the cut, she thought.
Josie was there of course. She owed her a debt for giving her that advice. There was also the stunning red head, and a taller, slender blonde with smaller boobs than her own.
She noticed that as far as beauty standards went, these women were probably the top four or five most attractive from yesterday. Maybe these were the ones who had simply checked single. She needed to make sure not to bring up her marriage to any of them. Not yet at least. After a few months when she’d proved what a good worker she could be, she’d let them know.
As she thought about that, she wondered if she’d be able to keep quiet about her husband around her coworkers for so long! Working remotely one day a week would make that easier at least. She just loved Ben so much and wanted everyone to know how lucky she was. Even complete strangers!
The women all milled about in the waiting room. Riley assumed they’d have orientation in the same adjoining conference room. She was about to start asking for names, when Doris showed up through the set of double doors that led into the building. She studied them each in turn, saying nothing as her eyes scrutinized them, as if looking for flaws. There was no big welcome, not even a smile. But after staring at them, she motioned with a curled finger to follow her. She put a silver ring she wore on her right finger, and touched the sensor on the double doors. She led them out of the waiting room, and deep into the heart of Del Corp.
They walked down a long hallway, turned right, found a set of stairs that led down and followed them. Another long hallway. Another turn. Another set of stairs. On and on, Riley noticed that every door they’d passed so far since the entrance had been closed. They never passed an open office, or break room, or a conference room. Riley suddenly felt stifled, and was again thankful that she’d only have to be here once a week.
They did pass several men, all with big smiles on their faces and wandering eyes that didn’t disguise where they were looking. Riley was taken aback by this. She didn’t want to raise a fuss her first day, but she had a mind to get the names of everyone and report them to HR. Surely a successful company like this had a top notch human resources.
It wasn’t all men though. They also passed several women, mostly older, or obese, or with a disfigurement of some kind. They also looked at each of the new women shrewdly and appraisingly. Riley wondered if this was some kind of weird corporate hazing. If it was, she didn’t like it.
On the third flight down, they approached a room on their right that was making a loud hum, and Josie asked curiously, “What’s in there?”
“Main servers,” Doris replied with unveiled irritation. “You’ll never need to go in there. It’s always locked, and only a few people have access.”
Access. Riley noticed that every door had a sensor for keyless entry. This was a very secure facility. She was suddenly shocked that the company had not done a background check on her. What kind of company that seemed to value privacy and security would hire someone without doing a thorough background check.
‘It really is like, oh, you’re hot and single? Welcome to the team,’ Riley mused as her irritation for this place steadily rose. She tried to remember why she was here. She allowed a mantra to run through her mind over and over again. ‘The money. Remember the money. Remember you’ll be working from home. Remember that you’re doing all this for Ben, the love of your life, and the future that we have together.’
After going down two more floors and countless hallways, they reached a large rectangular room that was very nice and welcoming. It was completely the opposite of everything Riley had seen so far. There were fake plants scattered throughout, fancy art on the wall, and several of the most comfy looking couches Riley had ever seen forming an open square in the middle of the room. In the middle of that square was a low square coffee table, and Riley saw four laptops in a row.
“Have a seat there,” Doris said, pointing at the couch directly in front of those laptops.
Riley went and plopped down, being sure the yellow dress she’d picked out for her first day didn’t fly up too high. She assumed the dress was fine for this job. She didn’t have any business professional clothes as she’d only had jobs where you had a uniform before this one. She’d wear whatever they deemed appropriate though, within reason. She would not be wearing anything that showed more of her cleavage than she was comfortable with. Her momma had raised her right. She’d still gotten Ben, hadn’t she? Yes. Better to conceal the goods and make ‘em chase you to get what’s inside.
“Here are your bracelets,” Doris said, interrupting Riley’s thoughts again. The old woman spoke in a dry, monotone, as if this were the last thing she wanted to be doing in the world. “After today you’ll need these bracelets to get in the building. They also monitor your health, because we care about our employees. If you suspect one is ever malfunctioning, report it immediately. Whatever you do, do not take it off unless you have the permission of a supervisor. Removal of it for any other reason will result in immediate termination.”
“But what if it doesn’t go with my outfit,” the redhead quipped.
Doris smiled, but not pleasantly. It was like the smile of a bully who enjoyed watching his victim squirm. “Oh, I think that you’ll find very soon that it will go with everything.”
The redhead frowned and sighed sarcastically. “Not likely, but if that’s the job, I’ll do it for as long as I’m here.”
By the sound of that, Riley thought that she might not last the week. Clearly she didn’t need the money as bad as Riley did.
Riley accepted her bracelet. It looked like a combination of jewelry and technology. The top half was flat and smooth, and Riley realized that it was capable of displaying messages as the phrase, “Welcome to Del Corp Riley,” was scrolling on hers. It was a bit heavy and bulky though underneath. Riley snapped it easily in place, but as she spun her wrist, she didn’t see an easy way to unfasten it. It felt very tight. Was she really going to have to wear this thing all the time?
‘The money, the money, the money…’
With the bracelets securely fastened, the four women listened as Doris began to speak to them, sounding almost bored now. “In a moment you’ll be meeting our CEO Avery Smith and three of the board members, but first, I’ll reintroduce you to your team lead, Marcus Orion.”
On cue, Marcus entered through a door opposite the one they’d come in, his arms stretched wide, his grin even wider. “Welcome new hires! I am so glad to see you today. Who’s ready to get started?”
Doris, her job apparently done, passed him on her way out of the room. She seemed very relieved to not have to be there anymore.
Marcus was the opposite of Doris, and seemed genuinely excited to have them here. “Ladies, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have this opportunity with you all. I’m going to be your primary handler. Doris will be my second. If for any reason you cannot reach me, you will report to her with any problems. Before you leave, both of our numbers will be in your phones.”
Riley raised her hand, as she had questions about the word, ‘handler.’
Marcus ignored her hand and pressed on enthusiastically. “Please turn on the laptop directly in front of each of you. These are state of the art computers that have been designed and manufactured entirely in house. I promise you they are better than anything on the market, and they’ll be what you’re using to work remotely. So fire them up, and then members of our senior leadership will be joining us.”
Riley hesitated, but lowered her hand and pressed the laptop’s power button. It didn’t look all that impressive. It just looked like a standard 16 inch laptop. It was fast though. The screen came to life almost instantaneously with the message, “Welcome to Del Corp. Please sync your bracelet.”
Josie was already looking at Marcus and asking, “How do we sync our bracelets?”
“Fantastic question Josie,” Marcus said grinning ear to ear. Just press the clasp on the bottom end to the pad on the lower right side of your keyboard. No, no, wait!” Marcus said, and his tone shifted quickly to silky smooth, to loud and abrasive.
Josie froze, and looked up at Marcus with an eyebrow raised. She was not accustomed to people snapping at her like that. Josie also needed the money, but still, she’d rather walk away than be disrespected.
Marcus’s wide smile was back in a flash. “Sorry, sorry,” he said as he clasped his palms together apologetically and shook them twice at Josie. “Please forgive me. It’s just important that we’re in sync, when we sync.” He laughed at his own lame joke, and paused for them to follow suit. When they didn’t, he said, “Bear with me. This is my first time being a Team Lead.” He put his hand on his heart. “I will get it right next time, you have my word.”
“Can we just get on with this,” said the other blonde.
Riley thought everyone seemed annoyed now. And why wouldn’t they be? Doris had acted like leading them here had been a big inconvenience. They’d gotten ogled repeatedly on the long walk to this room. They had to wear this bracelet which was transmitting who knew what kind of biometric data to the company. And now Marcus had just yelled at them.
“Okay, here we go,” Marcus said, undeterred by their lack of enthusiasm. He began to wave his hands like a conductor of a symphony. “I’ll count it down from 3, and then everyone press your bracelet to the spot on the laptop. 3. 2. 1. Sync!”
All four women placed their bracelet on their laptop, and all four felt a sharp jab as the tiny needle under the clasp pierced their skin and injected a milligram of nanites into their bloodstream.
A chorus of surprised objections arose.
“Ow! What was-”
“Something just stuck me!”
“What the hell?!”
Every woman but Riley had complained loudly except her. She’d only made a shrill whimper. She hated shots, and whatever that was had been right under her wrist, probably hitting the vein there.
“Sorry about that,” Marcus said as he pulled out a smartphone. He began to tap at the screen. “Just give it a minute to spread through your body and then you won’t care anymore.”
“Excuse me?” Josie snapped.
‘That’s it,” the redhead said standing briskly to her feet. “I’ve had enough. Get this damn thing off of me.” She began to fumble with the clasp with shaky fingers.
“Leadership told me there’s always one,” Marcus muttered. His voice became higher and insistent. “Everyone who leaves their bracelet on for just another 50 seconds will receive a thousand dollars, even if you quit immediately after.”
“I’m gonna get a lot more than that in the lawsuit I file against this company,” the red head hissed as she looked for a watch to unclasp it. But the more she inspected it, the more her fingers didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
Marcus was pleased to see her struggle, but still looked at her warily. Then his phone pinged. “Oh wow, one of you is already online. Good. Let’s see who…ah,” he said, winking at Josie. “The one who is always just ahead of everyone else. Makes sense.”
“Online?” the redhead exclaimed. “I don’t think so!” She forced her fingers underneath the clasp, trying to create enough pressure to unfasten it. Suddenly the arm she was using to apply the pressure tensed up as if she’d just received an electric jolt. “Ah! What was that!”
“It’s just the nanites keeping you from taking off the bracelet. That’s the last line of defense. But we won’t have to worry about that for much longer because…” Marcus’s phone pinged. “There we go, you’re online now too.”
It was Josie’s turn to stand, and she offered her left hand, the hand with that accursed bracelet, to help Riley up off the couch. Riley was reaching for it as Josie said briskly, “I didn’t sign up for this. Neither did she. We’re leaving.”
A third ping. Riley’s hand was in Josie’s. She was looking up into her face when Marcus said calmly, “Blank slate.”
“Blank slate confirmed,” said three female voices, perfectly in sync and without emotion.
Riley felt Josie’s hand go limp in hers, and watched in horror as the brunette’s eyes rolled into the back of her head so that only the whites were shown.
“I don’t understand,” Riley said, hearing the panic in her voice as she leaned forward and looked at the other two women. They all had the same blank expression.
“Me neither,” Marcus drawled. “Sometimes it takes a little longer for the nanites to circulate in some people. You must be pretty stubborn Riley. But everyone succumbs to the nanites eventually. No one’s ever failed to come online in under 90 seconds.”
His eyes raked over her body now with obvious sexual interest. Riley sprang to her feet and tugged at Josie’s limp arm. “Josie! Josie answer me right now! We need to leave! We need to-”
Ping.
Riley’s heart pounded in her chest at the sound of that fourth ping. Whatever was happening to these women, was about to happen to her.
“There we go,” Marcus said with an eerie smile. “Don’t worry. When this is all over, you’re gonna think you had a fantastic first day.”
“Please don’t-” Riley began, but saw Marcus mouth the words blank slate. She was vaguely aware of her own lips moving as she said in a monotone voice, “Blank slate confirmed.” And then all she knew was ignorant bliss as her eyes rolled up into her head.
“Time to meet our corporate overlords,” Marcus said happily. He hit a button on his phone that said Upload. He selected each woman, then pressed enter.
Each bracelet came to life with a soft chime. Each woman said in a robotic voice, “Uploading. Uploading. Uploading. Upload complete.”
Riley’s blue eyes came back down, and she looked at Marcus with a wry smile. “You need to do a better job at putting them at ease, Marcus.”
Josie’s brown eyes were on Marcus as well, her voice had an edge to it. “Maybe we were too hasty in promoting him to team lead, Avery I really thought he was going to lose control there for a moment.”
The redhead was not looking at Marcus, but was running her hands up her sides and over her chest. “Now now, gentlemen. It was his first time. He’s still got the drive and charisma we’re looking for, and is doing great and recruiting clients. Let’s let him off with a warning.”
The unnamed blonde didn’t seem to be interested in Marcus at all as her hands had begun to squeeze her tight buttocks. “What an amazing specimen. Surprised I didn’t have to fight you all for the chance to have her first.”
Riley’s voice became authoritative as she addressed the blonde. “Don’t get to carried away, Jenkins. This is just about meeting them, ensuring there’s no problem with the upload process, then sending them off for their physicals.”
The blonde’s face soured as she looked at Riley. She did not stop massaging her rear. “I helped write the protocols, Avery. There’s no harm in a little groping before we log out.”
Riley gave a perverted giggle. “Yes, I know. It’s tradition. We just musn’t go too overboard in case we have to release any of them back into the wild.”
Having said this, Marcus watched enviably as the four women groped and fondled their bodies over their clothes. A few minutes ticked by, but Marcus would have gladly watched his superiors explore the new hires for as long as he was allowed.
Riley had pulled her blouse aways from her chest and was taking a long look down it. Her face made it clear that she liked what she saw. She released the fabric, letting it snap back with a little less elasticity. “Okay, that’s enough gentlemen,” she announced with finality. “I think we’ve excited poor Marcus enough.”
It was true. He had not wanted to get an erection in front of his bosses, but seeing them inhabiting the bodies of these beautiful women, making them touch themselves provocatively, he was at full mast. He positioned his hands over his front, and tried to keep from gawking.
“It’s only fair,” Josie chuckled at him. “We’re all going to have erections when we are back in our bodies. Speaking of, you already sent a girl to each of our houses, correct Marcus?”
Marcus gave a curt nod. “Yes sir. Their bracelets were activated before this meeting, and they should all be at your house by the time you log out.”
“Excellent,” Riley said, and she stepped closer to Marcus. She took one of the hands covering his erection and placed it on her breast. “Don’t worry Marcus. You managed to get them to sync their bracelets without resorting to force, which might have damaged the merchandise. So we’ll still let you do their field tests. They are the first members of your team after all.” Riley helped the man squeeze her boob softly, looking up into his eyes with a mischievous smirk. “I bet you can’t wait.”
“N-no, s-sir,” Marcus stammered.
“I do think that’s the first time I’ve seen you flustered Marcus,” the redhead said with a laugh.
Riley released Marcus’s hand and stepped back. “You know what’s next. Keep them in blank slate mode and send them to their physicals. The doctor will check for STD’s and any other illnesses or maladies that would be a disruption to our company. We only provide the best for our clients. After that, the standing brainwashing program before we sent them off with their take home bag to…” Riley trailed off, then gave a sharp laugh. “Marcus, I don’t mind if you stare, but try to keep your mouth shut when you do. You look ridiculous.”
Marcus had been trying to look the CEO, Avery Smith, in the blue eyes of this gorgeous creature. But his eyes kept wandering to other areas. He was already thinking about tomorrow’s field tests. How he’d be in Riley’s home. How he could touch her as much as he wanted. His imagination was already running wild, but Avery’s subtle chastisement had snapped him out of it.
“Yes, of…of course Avery, er, Mr. Smith.”
The corner of Riley’s mouth went up, and she raised her hand and cupped her right boob as she looked at the other women. “I think our boy’s got it bad for this one.” The women nodded back at Riley, each of them smirking as well. Back at Marcus, Riley said, “We all have our favorites, but don’t monopolize her too much. But…you are her handler, so take a few days to get her out of your system after the field tests are over.”
“If she passes that is,” Josie said quickly.
“Naturally,” Riley retorted, looking annoyed. “Marcus has been warned. Should he find any red flags, she’ll go back to her normal life. Isn’t that right Marcus.”
“Of course, sir,” Marcus replied.
“Good,” Riley said, and smiled at him. Then she blew him a kiss. “Now be a good boy and send us back.”
“Right away sir,” Marcus said. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get used to meeting his bosses this way. He quickly selected all four women on his cell phone, and disconnected them. HIs shoulders slumped a little. He knew the men were in their respective homes and could still see him on the cameras mounted all around the room. But they were probably focused on the women now at their door that would attend to those pesky erections rather than him.
Marcus, on the other hand, would have to wait until later to have his relief. What he wouldn’t give to have his way with any of the women on the couch right now. Especially Riley. But he had his orders.
With blank slate mode still active by default, he said, “Grab your laptops and follow me so we can get your physicals underway.”
“Yes sir,” the four women responded at once. Their eyes focused on the command at hand, and like obedient worker drones, the four women retrieved their laptops from the coffee table. They formed a single line behind their boss. Their movements were precise, and they marched in step as Marcus led them from the room. They followed Marcus back into the series of hallways, and up a flight of stairs. Several doors that had been closed were now suddenly open, as staff at Del Corp wanted to assess the recent new hires. Programmers, team leads, technicians, cooks, paper pushers, analysis, recruiters, marketing, and more all watched the synchronized steps of the attractive women as they marched past. This time the women didn’t mind the stares, because none of them had a thought in their head other than following their team lead.
The workers of Del Corp with free will were all picking out their favorite new hire, making a note of who they’d spend time with during their breaks in the weeks ahead. The pretty blonde just behind Marcus seemed to be the most popular candidate by far.
They eventually passed through a door that Marcus unlocked by pressing the ring he wore on his right hand against a sensor. They stepped into a well lit sterile room with medical equipment and exam tables. A pudgy older man in a doctor’s coat was there to greet them. He was flanked by two very beautiful women who wore a vacant smile and nothing else.
“Did the old men have their fun?” the doctor asked Marcus politely, although his eyes did not meet him. They were focused on his four new patients who had followed obediently after him.
Marcus let out a sigh, but smiled. “If by fun you mean taking the piss out of me, then yes.”
The doctor laughed. “Sounds like them. Well, let’s get this show on the road. New hires, each of you hop up on one of the exam tables.”
The order was received with unflinching obedience as the four women walked purposefully into the sterile room, their shoes clicking on the white tiled floor. They each picked a gynecology exam table and sat there.
“I’ll be back when you’ve run your tests,” Marcus said, and left to go to his office. On the way he grabbed a woman with a bracelet who had been programmed to clean on her weekly visit to Del Corp. She didn’t protest, but allowed herself to be dragged along. She even seemed happy to have been chosen for whatever task Marcus had in mind.
When they arrived at his office, Marcus didn’t talk to her, just stripped off her clothes, bent her over his desk, and fucked her. He thought of Riley, the pretty doe eyed blonde that had been so sweet and chaste during the interview. He thought of Avery being inside her, teasing him with her body, making him grope her. He thought of what tomorrow would bring, and he came. He told the girl to clean up the mess, and then sat down in his chair. He’d needed that. He could finally think straight again..
Back in the exam room, the doctor’s nude assistants helped the doctor with silent efficiency. He’d trained them to help draw blood, check reflexes, take blood pressure, examine pupils, ears, gums, and more. They’d help him record it all. The new hires were perfectly calm during this whole process.
The cursory examination over, the doctor ordered them to remove their clothes. The four new hires all stood and undressed quickly. There was nothing sensual about their movements, just the subconscious desire to follow the order as expediently as possible.
The doctor gave orders to his assistants to pull out the stirrups attached to the tables, then had the new hires put their feet in them. They all did with no complaint. Each of them laying slightly back, their legs spread wide for the doctor. He gave each woman a pelvic exam. They did not flinch as his fingers pushed into them. Did not make a sound. They merely laid there as if this were all routine.
“Okay, that’s that,” the doctor said as he took off his gloves. “Get dressed, new hires.” As the naked women complied, he sent an assistant to fetch Marcus. Upon his return, the doctor told him, “I’ll have the lab results before you leave today. You can take them to get fitted and supplied now.”
Marcus was aware that the doctor had just seen these women naked before he had. He was not jealous though. He considered himself patient. He’d worked hard to get where he was. And tomorrow, he’d be able to upload into any of them and have complete control of their bodies. And when they returned next week, he could order them to do all manner of sexual acts on him, and they would agree readily.
When the new hires weren’t being made to serve him sexually or one of the other employees at Del Corp, they’d be ordered to do the mundane tasks. Like cleaning, or secretarial work, or anything that anyone deemed beneath them in this place. Thanks to different women being forced to come in on different days throughout the week, they always had plenty of willing slaves to do the grunt work at headquarters. But between now and next week, the new hires were strictly off limits until the field tests had been run.
As Marcus next led the women to a series of rooms that would get their measurements for clothes, outfits, and sex toys they might need while servicing a client, Ben was doing what Riley had joked about when she left. He was making the house sparkling clean. In their first five weeks of marriage, they’d fallen into stereotypical gender roles, where Ben played video games and did nothing, and Riley did everything that needed done like laundry, cleaning, and cooking. It had been a big step for Ben to make breakfast that morning. Now he tried his hand at laundry and cleaning. He was better at them than breakfast for sure. Riley would be so happy, that maybe he could talk her into doing something kinky tonight.
Being raised in a very conservative family, Riley had been a virgin when they got married. But Ben hadn’t. Far from it. He’d never admit to being a sex addict, but considered it a possibility. Before dating Riley, he’d had a few one night stands, some long term girlfriends, and had developed quite a few kinks thanks to those women. And porn. He’d watched porn every day, and was always finding something new he’d like to try in the bedroom with a girl, but Riley had put a stop to all that when they’d got married.
Riley didn’t want him watching porn or masturbating. The first time she’d told him, he’d thought she was joking. Riley’s hurt face let him know that she wasn’t. She wanted to be enough for him. Didn’t want him looking at girls online and getting ideas for positions or roleplay. Ben had hoped that over time his bride would change her mind about some of that, but except for the infrequent blowjobs, she would only do missionary or on top.
Because of his love for her, he’d stopped watching porn and jerking off. It hadn’t been too difficult, because Riley was usually around. As they both tended to work 2nd shift, they could fuck in the morning, and then again when they both got home. But now she had a 40 hour or more job a that took her away from him during a time where he was home by himself.
The hours seemed to drag by, and even though he’d gotten blown early that morning, he was already thinking about looking up his old friend pornography by the time noon rolled around. But he knew it would most likely affect his performance that night with his wife. So he waited, and focused on making the interior of their house shine.
It was mid afternoon when Marcus got the bad news. He’d just presented the women with a small boxed meal and told them to eat. It was a flavorless, tasteless mush, and was very cheap to manufacture. They chewed and swallowed it as they were told. Marcus watched them shovel it down while he ate a steak their onsite chef had prepared. He couldn’t stop smiling, that is, until the doctor walked in.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” the doctor said gravely.
Marcus put his fork down and asked, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the problem?”
“The blonde is pregnant.”
Marcus wiped his mouth and slammed a fist on the table. “Dammit!” His eyes fell upon Riley. He did not want to lose her, but a pregnancy meant instant termination. The nanites could stop future pregnancies, but not the one she’d come in here with. “Are you sure?”
The doctor nodded, then looked at who Marcus had focused on. “Oh, sorry. Forgot you had two blondes. Not that one. The other one,” he said, pointing at the unnamed blonde who sat there quietly eating her mush.
Relief flooded Marcus. It wasn’t great that he was already down a team member, but it hadn’t been Riley. Besides, it was easy to recruit. He’d just put out another ad that promised big money while working from home.
“Kathleen,” he said sternly. The blonde now known as Kathleen stopped eating and looked at him keenly. “Pitch your food and go wait in the conference room you interviewed in last week. Turn on the monitor in there, and watch the exit interview until I come to fire you.”
“Yes sir,” Kathleen said, and without hesitation she stood, dropped her food in a trash bin, and made her way to the conference room.
After she exited, the doctor reported the rest of his findings. “All the rest are very healthy. Two of them have been sexually active however,” he said, pointing at Riley and the redhead. “Their swabs had traces of sperm under the microscope. Could be a one night stand, or something more serious. Easiest way is just to ask and-”
Fearing that he might hear something he didn’t want to, Marcus cut him off. “Thanks doctor, I’ll take it from here.”
“But the board will want to-” the doctor began with a raised eyebrow.
Anger rose in Marcus, but he tapered it down and replied calmly, “Don’t worry about the board I will handle it. If I find any problems during the field tests, I’ll take the necessary steps to deal with them.”
The doctor let out a knowing sigh. “Ah, I get it. You really want to field test them. Fair enough.”
“So you’ll leave that out of the report?”
“If she gets the greenlight,” the doctor said, pointing at Riley, “You let me have first dibs when she comes back in.”
‘You can have my sloppy seconds,’ Marcus thought. Out loud he said. “I think we can make that happen.”
The doctor extended a hand, and Marcus shook it. “Well then, I found no traces of sexual activity. See you next week, ladies.”
They did not stay goodbye, or give any other parting niceties. They just sat there. Their meal finished, and the empty box on their laps. They simply stared straight ahead, and awaited their next command.
Marcus ushered them to their last stop for their first day. This room had several cubicle workstations, each with a laptop that resembled the ones they would be taking home. Marcus had them each log on, and click on a program that walked them through an endless series of data entry. They copied one set of numbers from one place on the screen to another. Dragged one file here, another there. They opened spreadsheet after spreadsheet. None of it meant anything, but served one purpose. It helped cement the illusion. It gave the lie a solid foundation on which to stand.
Should these women ever question in the outside world what their job really entailed, the nanites would lead their minds back to this place. This moment. Where they dragged and clicked and typed over and over again. It’s what they would think they were doing all day instead of doing menial tasks and getting fucked. It’s what they think they would be doing in their homes, even as client after client came to see them to use their bodies. Just another boring day, entering facts and figures.
But as boring as they might remember it being, they would never want to leave. They would be so happy with their job. Because as they stared at their monitors, they each began to intermittently flashed the core tenets they would come to live by until they were released from their employ.
Over and over again during those last few hours, the following messages were repeated on a loop.
You love Del Corp.
You will be faithful to Del Corp and its employees.
You will not draw undue attention to yourself outside of work.
You never want to take off your bracelet.
When your bracelet pings, you will log onto your computer at work within 30 minutes. If unable, you will call your team lead.
Always do what your team lead tells you to do.
Always believe whatever your team lead tells you.
When you are on Del Corp property, you will be an obedient slut, doing whatever tasks required of you.
You will feel grateful to be of use to any Del Corp employee.
You will take good care of your body, because it belongs to Del Corp, its employees, and its clients.
You live to serve your team lead, Del Corp employees, and those we deem clients.
You no longer care about having a social life.
You no longer care about dating anyone.
If you are currently dating someone, you will break up with them as soon as possible in a way that does not bring undue attention to Del Corp.
You do not seek sexual intimacy outside the confines of Del Corp employees and clients.
You are focused on being the best employee you can be.
You will only ever remember doing data entry when working remotely.
You will stow your take home bag in a secure place in your home and not look in it unless directed to by a client or team lead.
You will do everything in your power to protect Del Corp and its employees.
When asked, you will always describe your job as ‘boring data entry.’
If pressed for more information about Del Corp beyond that, you will respond with, ‘We value our clients’ privacy so I can’t elaborate further.’
Should anyone seem a threat to Del Corp, you will report to your team leader as soon as possible and await further instructions.
Riley blinked. She felt like she’d been staring at this screen forever, but saw in the lower left hand corner of her monitor that there was only five minutes left of work today! The job was tedious, but not at all hard. She found she didn’t mind it though. She was going to love working for Del Corp, and was thankful to have gotten Marcus as her team lead.
Marcus walked between their cubicles and announced, “Time to punch out ladies. You’ll find your laptop and take home bag are waiting for you at the exit. You all did wonderful today. I don’t see you all back again here until next…” he checked his phone, “a week from tomorrow.”
Riley’s face fell a bit. In such a short time she’d grown to love this place and her team. She looked at the others, and saw their faces mirror hers.
“I know, I’ll miss you too,” Marcus said with a wide grin. “Say, what did you all think of that delicious steak dinner we had for lunch today?”
“Steak…dinner?” Josie asked, furrowing her brow.
This was a simple test to see if the programming had worked. It was one thing for them to be in blank slate mode. They were more like mindless functioning robots in that state. The real test came when they were back to themselves.
“Yes,” Marcus said confidently, trusting that the nanites and brainwashing they’d received would dictate their reality. “You all had a wonderful steak dinner. You thought it was amazing. You even licked your plate clean Josie, remember?”
Josie blushed. She did remember now. It had been the best steak of her life. “I guess…I was just really hungry.”
“Thank you for feeding us such a great meal!” Riley exclaimed. “Do we get to eat that good every time we come?”
Marcus stepped towards her and said with a wink, “I think you’ll always leave here with something yummy in your bellies.”
All the girls smiled at each other, already looking forward to next Tuesday’s lunch time.
“Ladies, you’ll believe whatever I tell you, correct?” Marcus asked.
“Yes sir,” the three new hires said in perfect unison.
“And you’ll do whatever I tell you, correct?”
“Yes sir!” the ladies replied cheerily.
“Good,” Marcus said, his smile curving into something sinister. “I want you each logging in at 9am sharp every day and running the data entry program. Keep familiarizing yourself with it so that we can eliminate possible errors for our clients.” Doing this would ensure the brainwashing cemented itself in their brains.
Marcus continued. “I’ll be chatting with each of you individually over the next few days. Riley, you’ll be first up tomorrow. It’ll be a video chat, so please wear something that shows off your boobs.”
Riley’s thoughts hit a wall suddenly. The training, the steak dinner, all of that had been great, but, to ask Riley to show off her boobs on a conference call was…was…
Marcus watched Riley’s face contort while the nanites made her accept the programming. Her resistance met a torrent of words that seemed to imprint on her very soul.
‘I will do what my team lead tells me to do. I live to serve my team lead. I will obey him. I will wear whatever Marcus tells me, because he is my team lead and I am his obedient slut.
Riley’s face smoothed out, and she beamed at him before saying happily, “Yes sir.”
“Good girl,” Marcus said, then looked at the other two. “And I’ll expect you both to do the same. Actually Josie, you wear nothing at all.”
The two women had already been having an internal struggle after hearing what he’d said to Riley, so they were quicker at both saying, “Yes, sir,” but not quite as in sync.
“Make sure our video chats are in a private area in your house. An office space, bedroom, bathroom, whatever. And you’re not to be disturbed during this time.”
All of this was to limit exposure to a family member, boyfriend, girlfriend, or roommate. They could all be dealt with over a short period of time, but the field test was crucial in ensuring Del Corp’s safety protocols.”
“If all goes well after those video chats, you’ll be ready to handle clients. I hope to be sending you each several by the end of the week. Now head home. You’ve all done great work today.”
Marcus led them back the way they came. The walk didn’t seem as far now. The building that had once seen drab and foreboding now felt so much like home. She wished she didn’t have to leave. She loved Del Corp.
“I’m going to be thinking about that steak all week,” Josie confessed to Riley as they stepped out into the sunlight.
“Me too!” Riley laughed.
“I can’t believe I licked the plate in front of all of you. That’s…not something I’d usually do.”
The image swam vividly in Riley’s mind. Josie’s hands picking up a white plate with the remnants of savory juice on it. Josie’s face drawing near it. Her tongue sticking out and licking it from top to bottom until it was all clean. She found her own mouth watering as she remembered the taste of it.
“If I had my plate in front of me right now, I’d do it too.”
They said goodbye as they headed to their own cars, and headed home.
Marcus went to the conference room where the pregnant blonde was. Kathleen had watched the exit interview video over and over again so the message of it would be very clear in her mind.
It had read as follows:
I am grateful for the opportunity, but this job just wasn’t for me. It was my decision to leave. I will find work elsewhere. I will surrender my bracelet, and leave immediately..
Marcus pulled her up on his phone and took her out of blank slate mode, and deactivated the nanites in her body. Without the bracelet, they would pass out of her naturally over the next 24 hours, but the brainwashing she’d received should hold.
Lastly, he put his hand on the bracelet and said, “Release.” With a smooth click, it unlatched, and hung loosely on Kathleen’s arm.
A few seconds passed, and Kathleen blinked and looked around as if waking from sleep.
“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Marcus said, extending a hand to her.
“No, no,” she said sincerely as she accepted it. “I’m so grateful for the opportunity, but this job just isn’t for me. I’ll just have to find work elsewhere.”
Marcus nodded, then gestured towards the door. She took off her bracelet and set it on the table, then walked out. As soon as she was out of sight, Marcus shook his head. She would have been a great addition. Pity he never got to field test or fuck her. Maybe someday the company would start accepting pregnant women. Or married women for that matter. He had a client that would pay a small fortune for the chance to have regular sessions with a married woman. Apparently it was a big fetish of his. But right now the board’s mandate was clear. They only enslaved and hopped unattached women that would not raise suspicion. They wanted to be in business for a long, long time.
The whole drive home Riley kept thinking how much she loved Del Corp. How much she loved her team. Marcus, Josie, and… and there were two more, weren’t there? Another blonde like her, but…but she hadn’t seen her on the way out. But the beautiful redhead had been there. How had she not gotten her name? That was very rude of her, and quite embarrassing!
As she questioned this egregious oversight, the memory of typing numbers and clicking a mouse came into her mind very strongly. She just hadn’t had a chance was all. All she could remember was her time at the computer, and a wonderful steak dinner that the company had so generously provided. She was so lucky to have gotten the chance to work for them. She would make them proud. She belonged there. She belonged to Del Corp. All of her belonged to them. Her mind and her body.
Riley had been so enraptured by how amazing her orientation had been, that she almost forgot to pick up food on the way home. But as her stomach growled, she remembered she needed to take care of her body, so she stopped by a fast food place. Instead of her typical burger and fries, she got a salad. She paid for it and was about to pull onto the street, when she realized she’d forgotten Ben. How could she forget her wonderful husband? She drove back around, and got him a salad too.
Ben was famished by the time Riley walked through the front door, but first made a grand sweeping gesture at the house. “Ta da!” he exclaimed as she walked past him carrying a large black duffel and two fast food bag. She didn’t seem to notice how he’d swept, mopped, done the dishes, and had the place cleaner than it had been in a couple of weeks.
In fact, she didn’t say anything, didn’t even give him a kiss. She set the fast food bags on the table, and then disappeared into their guest bedroom that would now serve as Riley’s office. She stowed the bag in the highest part of the closet in there, and moved a box in front of it. Hopefully that would keep the contents secure. She wondered what was in the bag, and had the desire to check. But then very strongly in her mind came a pulsing thought.
You will not look in it unless directed to by a client or team lead.
Riley’s eyes unfocused and heard herself say aloud in a monotone voice, “I will not look in it unless directed by a client or team lead.” She looked around. What had she been thinking? Oh yes. She needed to take care of her body. She went back to the dining room and sat down at the table.
Ben was now feeling a little ruffled. “Uh, ahem, nothing? No, wow hon, the place looks great! This must have taken you all day.’”
Riley was unpacking her salad, but did stop to look around. “Oh, yeah, wow,” she said with less enthusiasm in her voice than Ben had been hoping for. “Come eat, Ben, and I’ll tell you what a great company Del Corp is.”
For the love of his wife, Ben chose to let it go and joined her at the table. His face fell though as he realized he was also eating a salad. “Hey, what was in that bag you brought in?”
“Work stuff,” Riley said quickly. She then proceeded to prattle on about how amazing Del Corp is. How great her team lead Marcus was. How all the people there were great. How her clients would great and how she might have some by the end of the week. How she couldn’t wait to log on to her new company laptop tomorrow to start working hard.
As she unpacked her day, the realized that she would have to break up with Ben. That was unfortunate, but it was a directive from the company, so she’d have to go through with it. She should do it now, but the way he was looking at her, like everything she said was so important, like she were the only woman in the world. Despite a growing desire to tell him they were through then and there, she convinced herself to do it tomorrow, or maybe even push it off till the weekend. She just wanted to stay with him a bit longer.
It was at this point, Ben got a word in edgewise. “So, what exactly will you be doing?”
“Boring data entry,” Riley said wistfully, as if it was all she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
“Uh, wow, you make it sound so exciting,” Ben quipped. “Seriously though, what kind of data entry? What kind of information will you be-”
Riley’s eye twitched, and then words burst forcefully out of her, “We value our clients’ privacy so I can’t elaborate further.” She took a bite of salad and considered the matter settled.
Ben was taken aback. “C’mon Riles, we’re not dating. We’re married. Husband and wife. Surely you can tell me of all people.”
Her husband’s words changed everything. It was true. They weren’t dating. They were married. She would not have to break up with him because they were not dating. She checked them carefully against what she knew of Del Corp’s mandates, and her mind seemed to accept this. She was so relieved.
Ben laughed at her silence. “What? Are they a dark and shady organization that is trying to enslave the general populace?”
Riley suddenly tensed. Ben was asking her to go against company policy by telling him what they did there. Why couldn’t he just accept her answer? Did he pose a threat to Del Corp? She tried to calm herself, tried to make sure not to draw any undue attention. With a sweeter but still serious disposition, she said, “Ben, honey, I’m telling you I can’t talk about it. So drop it.”
Ben looked down at his salad. This evening was not going as planned. She knew he hated salad. Why had she brought him one? She hadn’t even called and asked what he wanted. It’s like he’d been an afterthought. Surely the honeymoon stage couldn’t be over already. He tried to let it all pass. He loved her and she loved him. They’d go to bed together soon. They’d make love. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’m gonna go make a sandwich.”
Riley didn’t stop him, but was a little perturbed he didn’t seem to appreciate the salad she’d brought him because… because he… no. No!. Only she needed to take care of her body. But, as his wife, she wanted him to take care of his body too. Just, for her, it was a mandate. She NEEDED to take care of her body. If he wanted to make a sandwich that was fine. She found herself calming quickly, and got up as soon as she was done.
As Ben sat down at a vacant table, Riley went to work out on their treadmill. It had been a wedding present, and she’d only used it once. Now it seemed very important. She needed to take care of her body, and working out was a good way to do that.
A disconnect grew through the night as the couple seemed to keep going their separate ways. Ben tried to get her to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, but she got lost in a skin care regimen that seemed to take forever.
As it got dark, Ben heard Riley say from their bedroom, “Goodnight, Ben.” And then the door shut.
Ben quickly got up from the couch to join his wife in their marital bed. He had his clothes off in a flash, and got under the covers. She was turned on her side away from him. He loved the feeling of pressing his boner against her round ass. But Instead of her warm, smooth, naked skin, he pressed up against fluffy pajamas. He tried not to sound indignant as he asked, “Why are you wearing clothes?” They hadn’t been wearing clothes to bed for the last five weeks, save some skimpy lingerie that Riley would put on sometimes.
“I was chilly,” Riley said simply.
“But, I always warm you up, don’t I?” Ben said hopefully as he wrapped an arm around her waist. His hand lifted up the bottom of her shirt, and he felt her skin. It traveled up quickly to her breast. He was already so hard. He was glad he’d waited for her. He would be inside her soon and everything would be perfect again.
As Riley felt her husband’s hands fondle her breasts, she felt a spark between her legs, and butterflies in her tummy. She wanted to roll over. To kiss him. To let his hands eagerly explore her as they so often had. To let him be in awe of her body. It was his after all.
But that…that wasn’t right. It wasn’t his body. Her body belonged to Del Corp. And she did not seek sexual intimacy from anyone but Del Corp employees and clients. Her body belonged to them now. This fact seemed to repent nonstop in her mind as she slowly brought her hand down, and pushed Ben’s away from her breasts. The brief twinge of sexual desire had faded entirely.
“What gives, Riles?” Ben asked, hurt in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if you thought I was prying. I’ll respect that you can’t talk about your work.”
“It’s not that,” Riley said, feeling bad for turning him down. Why couldn’t he understand? She loved him, but he was not a Del Corp employee or client. But she couldn’t tell him that, because it would draw undue attention to Del Corp. So she made up another excuse. “I’m just…tired, honey. Long day, and I gotta be up early in the morning to log on to work.”
“I’ll…I’ll be super fast,” Ben said.
“No, Ben,” Riley answered quietly but firmly.
Ben’s boner was in full retreat. “Can I hold you at least?”
Riley thought about that. Holding wasn’t sexual, and Ben was her husband. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
So he did. He held her tight and whispered in her ear, “I love you. I really do. Maybe we can do it first thing in the morning.”
“Maybe,” Riley hedged. But she knew she would not let him have her. She was already planning to be up before him. To shower and shave her legs and maybe even put some makeup before she found an outfit that would accentuate her cleavage for Marcus. Her body belonged to him now, and the employees and clients of Del Corp. But she wouldn’t tell Ben any of that. It would hurt him to know that. He was her husband after all. They would be together till death do us part. So instead, she said what she knew to still be true, “I love you too.”
Ben hoped she’d change her mind, but soon heard his wife’s breathing change, and knew that she’d drifted off. He regretted not masturbating earlier then. He thought about getting up and going to the living room to rub one out, but he still had hope for tomorrow morning. So in the end, he slept.
When he woke up the next day, he rolled over to kiss his bride, but her spot was empty. He checked his phone and saw that it was almost 9am. He sat up and called out, “Riles!”
“Getting ready to log on for work honey,” she replied from the kitchen.
Ben swore and jumped out of bed. He was naked as usual first thing in the morning. He walked quickly to the kitchen and saw that his wife looked incredible. She always looked very beautiful to him, but here she was in a yellow buttoned top that he’d only seen her wear once before, plus a short black skirt that drew copious amounts of attention to her long legs. His eyes were still on the top though, because the top three buttons weren’t fastened, and her cleavage was fully on display.
“You’re…working from home today, right?” Ben asked, perplexed, but glad she wouldn’t be showing off her amazing rack to a bunch of drooling office mates.
“Yeah,” Riley replied excitedly. “Just getting my coffee and going to go into the guest bedroom. I finished converting it into an office early this morning. Nothing fancy, just a card table and your gamer chair. We can get an actual desk and my own office chair when I get my first paycheck.”
“Yeah, no prob babe,” Ben said hurriedly, even though he was a little miffed that he wouldn’t have his gamer chair today. “Can we please make time for a quickie before you-”
Riley was already fervently shaking her head. “I don’t want to be late. I’m to log on promptly at 9am.”
“Will you get a break?”
Riley thought about that. She wasn’t sure. Surely she’d be able to walk away for bathroom breaks and a lunch. “I should be able to, yes, but I’ll know more once I log on as to what that looks like. We can probably have lunch together.”
The way she smiled at him while talking made Ben’s heart melt. He felt like some of the inexplicable distance that had materialized last night was dissipating. “I’d like that, babe. Yeah. I’ll make us something nice.” He remembered their diminishing food supplies and then said, “Like ramen.”
She laughed, and it lit up the room. “My favorite.” She moved forward to kiss him, but at the last second, swerved and walked by him. She didn’t want Ben to get the wrong idea, because kissing could lead to sexual intimacy, and her body belonged to Del Corp and its employees and clients.
That act had felt cruel to Ben. He didn’t like whatever this was. Everything had seemed normal for a second, and then she acted like a stranger towards him. He followed her into her new office area. They still had two minutes before she needed to log on.
Riley was opening up her laptop and about to sit down when she realized he was behind her. “What are you doing?” she snapped. “You’re naked, and you’re in my workspace! Are you trying to get me fired!”
“Why would it matter if I’m naked?” Ben argued. “It’s not like they’re gonna see me and-”
“But they might,” Riley said frantically. “I’m having a video chat with my team lead first thing! If he sees your penis, I imagine that’d be it for me!” She waved him away with both hands.
Ben’s shoulders slumped, and he left the room.
“Close the door!” Riley called after he’d taken a few steps from the office. “I don’t want you overhearing anything confidential.”
“It’s not like I’m going to sell your company’s secrets to a foreign power or-” but he stopped, because she was glowering at him. He just nodded, and shut the door. It was going to be a long day. He walked back to the kitchen and began to make himself breakfast.
Riley was staring at the monitor, waiting for her marching orders, when she saw an alert come up that she was receiving a video chat request. She clicked on it, and saw Marcus’s face. He looked very happy to see her. She pushed her chest out so he could see in the camera that she’d done like she’d been told.
“Hey, Riley, is there anyone in the room right now with you?” Marcus asked as he studied her low cut top very closely.
“No, sir,” she said confidently.
“Good. Are you ready for your field test?”
“My what?” Riley asked curiously. She remembered a video call, but didn’t know what the term ‘field test’ meant.
“In a moment, I’m going to upload into your body and have a look around your home. I’m going to dig into as much of your personal life as possible to make sure there’s no external plans or people that might pose a threat to Del Corp. It’s all company policy.”
Marcus loved telling her all this, knowing that she’d be forced to accept it.
Riley furrowed her brow. She didn’t want Marcus to be in her home. To be…did he say in her body? But even as she tried to resist, the nanites did their job, smoothing her face, making her compliant to his will. And why should she be? She trusted Marcus completely. “Whatever you need,” she said. “Does that mean I won’t be doing data entry today?”
“You will actually. At least, that’s what you’ll remember doing. That’s what you’re going to do right now. Pull up the data entry program and begin moving the numbers around.”
Riley did as she was told. A spreadsheet with several numbers came up and began to flash for her to drag it from one place to another.
Marcus saw on his tablet that she was following his instructions to the letter. “Good. Now I want you to look at it. Remember it. All you did today was work on this data entry program.”
“All I did today was work on this data entry program,” she repeated.
“Excellent,” Marcus said. “Stay there. I’ll be joining you very soon.” He disconnected the chat, and pressed more buttons. A large pod opened in front of him. He was in the upload room. There were 64 pods in here, and more were being added every month. Several were already filled by the retired sex workers on staff, such as his number two Doris. A few were also used by the occasional client who was willing to pay through the nose to experience life in another body.
That’s what Marcus would be doing for the next several hours. He’d be scouring Riley’s life. Making sure she posed no threat. He certainly hoped she didn’t. He was delighted to have her on his team. He’d enjoy being in her body. And he’d be getting paid very well to do it.
He pressed a button on his phone, and the pod shut, and began to hum.
70 miles away in her home, Riley’s bracelet pinged. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and heard herself saying, “Uploading. Uploading. Uploading. Upload complete.”
“Finally,” she said as she looked down at herself with a hungry smile. “Look at you, all dressed up for the job. Good girl.” Her hands came up and were a hair away from her chest when she stopped and looked at the monitor. Her fingers minimized the screen so she could see herself in the laptop’s camera. “That’s better,” she said.
She brought two eager hands to her chest. Marcus was reminded how good they felt when Avery had made him grope her yesterday. Now he had unfettered access to them. He was supposed to do a perimeter check, but he’d said she lived alone. He would explore her a bit first. Let himself feel the pleasures of her body. Then and only then would he begin a deep dive into her life.
Riley’s hands began furiously unbuttoning the few buttons she’d fastened on her top. There was still one to go at the bottom but she yanked it forcefully off, sending the last button plinking off the wall. The top landed on the floor. Her hands went behind her back, and for several moments, Marcus struggled to unclasp the bra. The nanites did not give him access to her muscle memory, and he had only uploaded a couple of times before as a part of his own training. Since he’d be uploading a lot more in the future though, he'd better learn how to remove a bra from this perspective more proficiently.
At last he was rewarded with the clasp releasing, and he felt gravity pull at the weight on Riley’s chest. The bra joined the blouse on the floor and two double D’s bounced in the monitor. Riley’s body was heating up exponentially, especially between her legs. Marcus wanted to touch there as quickly as he could, so he stood up from the chair and pulled the skirt down. He saw pink cotton panties underneath. Riley took a deep breath, then pulled those down as well. Neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair covered her slit. Marcus made her watch the monitor as her right hand went straight there. The middle finger felt the soft coarseness of the hair, and then her lower lips parted and there was only silky wet bliss.
“Fuck!” Riley called out louder than Marcus meant to. “You’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you? Masturbating on company time. Well, you’re gonna be doing a lot more than that soon.”
After being kicked out of her office by his wife, Ben had gone to put on a plain white shirt and gray sweatpants. He’d eaten breakfast and eventually ended up moping in their living room. It was a small two bedroom house. The office was adjacent to the living room. When Riley yelled ‘Fuck!’ Ben heard it. It took a lot to make his wife swear, so he assumed something was very wrong. He leapt up to investigate. He didn’t care about confidentiality in that moment, and pushed the door open. His jaw dropped. Her back was to him, but he had no problem seeing his wife on the monitor.
For a split second, he thought his wife was getting off to internet porn. But it wasn’t porn. It was her. She was recording herself on the laptop with her legs spread, her finger frantically rubbing her pussy while her other hand wildly fondled her boobs.
He’d never seen her behave in such a way. Was she doing this for him? So he’d have something to wank to while she was working? To him, it was the hottest she’d ever looked, and blurted out, “You’re so fucking sexy babe. Let me watch.”
Riley’s eyes had been closed as she slipped a finger deep inside herself. But they flew open as she heard the sound of a man behind her. She whirled around in the spinning chair, a look of annoyed confusion on her face. She made no attempt to cover herself, or even pause masturbating. All she said was, “Who the hell are you?”
To be continued…
I try not to think of myself as the bad guy. Yes, I found myself involved in the development of mind-control technology, but I did my best to protect the world from the worst of it. After that, things just kind of happened on their own.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
In hindsight, I don’t see how things could have turned out any other way. I’m not saying that as an excuse for any of the things I did or as if it makes them any less bad, but having taken the first step, things just kind of kept happening.
It started at work. I won’t say where.
We were testing methods of remote information transmission that didn’t rely on explicit outputs or inputs. Basically communication that bypassed the barriers outlined in models like Berlo’s SMCR: Instead of relying on language to convey meaning, our aim was to find a way to convey meaning itself directly from one mind to at least one other.
Again, with the benefit of hindsight, the implications were obvious, but we weren’t concerned with whether we should, we just wanted to see if we could. Classic hubris of the scientifically minded.
And it turns out we can. Or more specifically, I can. I’ve made sure all traces of the research material has been scrubbed from any database; every hard drive degaussed, every memory stick smashed into tiny pieces, every document shredded and the whole lot set on fire just to be safe. The technology is too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.
Yes, like mine. It turns out my hands are also the wrong hands, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought if I just kept the research to myself and studied it in secret, I could find a way to use it to make the world a better place. I guess I can still do that. Maybe it will make up for the bad that I’ve done, which on reflection isn’t even that bad.
Sure, I accidentally corrupted the free will of a fellow human being and inadvertently turned them into my loyal assistant and sex slave, but they’re happy. I know they’re happy, because in a lot of ways, they’re also me.
That helps, right?
*
Everyone was very excited. It was something worth being excited about. Transmission was old tech and measuring changes in brain waves was old tech, but reliably translating knowledge as it was being recalled into data, then being able to implant that data into another mind was a big fucking deal.
Other departments in other labs were specialising in mechanical transmission - robotics and cybernetics, for replacement or auxiliary limbs or remote work in hazardous environments. Useful stuff, but not nearly as delicate as what we were trying to achieve. They were trying to transmit a signal to a robot hand to gently hold an egg: We were trying to pull a single thought out of one mind and stitch it seamlessly into another.
Our first major breakthrough was impression: Not the conveyance of explicit knowledge or of a specific message, just a vague sense experienced by the broadcaster transmitted to the receiver. It had to be a strong sense, which meant staff with intense phobias being the broadcaster knowing what objects were beneath a series of cups, and the receiver choosing a cup at random based on the impression being transmitted to them.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the results fell well outside of what would have been possible on pure guesswork and we were pumped to fine tune the technology to see what it could do.
I say “random,” because even though it wasn’t, even though we knew it wasn’t and even though the receiver knew that a successful test would be proof that it wasn’t, they still felt as though they were choosing randomly. At no point did they feel like they were under someone else’s influence or receiving information externally; in every single instance, they were convinced that the experiment had failed and they were just choosing at random.
That should have been our first warning.
We advanced from cups viewed from two positions to mazes navigated from two positions, and then from mazes to simple guessing games like battleships and go fish. Again, no explicit information, but impressions that still left the receiver under the illusion that they were just lucky guessers.
From simple games we moved on to more advanced guessing games like celebrity heads and poker. This was a significant step forwards, but we were still relying on impressions that could be rationalised by the receiver as guesswork and luck. At no point was anyone being fed information that they couldn’t have conceivably deduced, remembered, calculated or bumbled their way into naturally.
That’s when the second major breakthrough happened. One of our broadcasters, Jackson, had gotten tired transmitting the correct answers to his receiver and had started feeding them deliberately incorrect answers. Nothing obvious - just answers that were close enough that they could make even someone who already knew second guess themselves. His receiver had a post-it note on her forehead with “Tiger Woods” written in permanent marker on it, and she had been given the clue “Golfing champion.”
By now, everyone had gotten used to Jackson’s shenanigans, so we grinned or grimaced as poor Lena rattled through every wrong answer she could be compelled to try.
“Tony the Tiger. Michael Jordan. Walt Disney. Santa Claus. Mickey Mouse. Bullroarer Took. Babe Ruth. Heisenberg. Wait, who the hell is Bullroarer Took?”
She didn’t get an answer, as the lab immediately exploded into questions and exclamations and people generally just freaking out. We’d done it, and somehow completely by accident: An entirely new, explicit piece of information had been seamlessly added to a receiver’s brain and it wasn’t until a few seconds after they’d actually said it that they even realised it wasn’t information from their own brain.
That was our second warning.
The third warning came quite a bit later, but by pure chance, I was the only one who noticed and when I did, I acted immediately.
Jackson’s shenanigans had inadvertently opened up new paths of inquiry. By randomly but deliberately poking at areas of knowledge specifically unrelated to the task at hand, we were able to isolate the neural activation patterns associated with conscious knowledge independent of emotional belief.
What followed were several successful instances of transmitting discrete pieces of data from broadcaster to receiver, however we then ran into the new problem of getting the receiver to distinguish between their own thoughts and the information being fed to them. Furthermore, when asked to explain the reasoning behind the transmitted answers, receivers became dismissive, evasive and sometimes even agitated, later explaining that the information just “felt true,” a sensation that applied even in instances where the receiver had been deliberately fed incorrect data.
With mounting dread, we realised the danger of the technology we had created.
The true horror sunk in during a coffee break, when by pure chance I saw Jackon’s reflection making an odd hand gesture over the drink of a coworker whose back was turned. I had to force myself to turn around slowly, watching Jackson converse casually without his eyes leaving her face. It wasn’t until she took a sip that he seemed to relax and noticed me by the coffee machine. I did my best to betray nothing, placing my own coffee onto the table in front of him and moving as though to sit when I “remembered” to get cream from the fridge.
This time when I turned I saw his hurried motion plainly in the brushed metal door, and it took all the self control I had not to confront him or punch his lights out. I returned to the table, adding the cream without sitting before returning it to the fridge. I picked up my coffee and was about to walk out of the room with it when Jackson called out to me with some innocent question about my department. It quickly became clear that he was stalling, waiting for me to drink, so I feigned a casual sip with tightly pursed lips as we spoke and he seemed to relax. I took the opportunity to leave with my cup and as soon as I was out of sight went straight to the micro-observation facility.
We had initially aimed to use physical chips implanted in the subject’s brains to establish a connection, but the risk of accidental damage compounded by multiple intrusions in the case of faulty hardware or the replacement of redundant units made this untenable. Thankfully (or perhaps not), we were assisted by our sister department in nanotech, who had developed a biomonitoring system using carbide nanites that could enter the bloodstream through the digestive tract. To test for successful nanite absorption, we just needed to take a blood sample and insert it into an observation case. And it didn’t just work on blood.
I felt my stomach drop as the coffee reading came back positive. A concentration high enough that even a mouthful would fully colonise a body within hours. I felt sick as I entered a vial of my own saliva, and when that test also came back as a weak positive and rising, I almost fainted.
That fucking bastard.
I had to stop myself from running to the configuration deck and came to a sudden halt halfway there. There’s no way Jackson could have done anything underhanded on one of the terminals without someone seeing him. The room, the equipment and change was constantly monitored as a security measure. If he were going to do anything without being detected, it would need to be somewhere private where he could still access the server and the network. He wasn’t authorised to be anywhere near the site’s core infrastructure, but it was the only place where he would have everything he needed.
I didn’t know how I was going to get access to the server room when I arrived - it’s not as if I had access either - but it turned out that I didn’t need access and neither did Jackson.
Lena had access, and she had left the door unlocked.
She looked up at me owlishly from where she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a laptop on her knees.
“Oh, Hi Marcus,” she said, parroting Tommy Wiseau’s infamous line as though we were meeting in the break room.
“Lena?” I asked cautiously. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just making sure that anytime a new host comes online, they’re set to receive only,” she said, as though she were just filling out her calendar. She turned the laptop so that I could see the screen and pointed at the second of two dots on a map of the facility. “See? There you are right next to me. You came online just a minute ago, so I’ve already made you a receiver.”
“And why would you do that?”
“Because Jackson told me to.”
I stared at the unquestioning innocence in her eyes.
“And you have to do what he says?”
Lena rolled her eyes at me. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeated. The silence was broken only by the steady whine of cooling fans.
Eventually, Lena shifted uncomfortably. “So, what are you doing here? You’re not IT.”
Not wanting to alarm her, I said the first thing that I could think of. “No, but Jackson sent me.”
The way Lena’s face lit up at his name made me feel ill.
“Does that mean you’re working for him too?”
“Yes,” I lied. Like a man laying down rails for a moving train as he’s riding on it, I grabbed blindly for any string of words that might work. “And he told me to come get you for something important. He’s… outside in the parking lot and says you need to come straight away.”
Lena’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, but I have to stay here for stage three. I’ve just finished getting everyone online.”
“That’s fine. He told me to take over. I have to do what he says, remember? You’ve finished stage two, haven’t you? He says you’ve done a very good job.”
Again, the look of bliss that took over Lena’s face twisted my gut.
“Great! Where can I find him?”
“He just told me as he was walking out,” I said, letting Lena stand up and hand me the laptop. “You’ll have to go look for him. He’s keeping an eye out for you.”
“Okay!” I watched Lena leave the room and closed it behind her, making sure to lock it this time. We shared our parking with three other departments across eight floors, so unless Jackson really was there already, that would keep her out of the way.
She’d been right. Jackson had worked his way through the entire department’s staff and I had a live view of every single person in the facility. Watching the glowing dots meander around the map gave me a truly terrifying glimpse into the future we had made possible.
What caught my eye was something that didn’t exist in the standard interface. We had created individual controls for the kind of transmissions we wanted and the direction we wanted them to go in, but Lena had added a new input without a label.
Clicking on it, a text field appears in which the name “Enfield, Lena” was already populated followed by a yes/no switch.
I pressed “yes” and blacked out.
*
I was in the parking lot, on the blue level by bay two-zero-two. At first I wondered how I had been suddenly transported when I realised how strange I felt all over - my body, my clothes and my hair all felt wrong somehow.
I looked down and felt the strength leave my legs as I saw a woman’s body stretching out below me. A woman’s body in a pair of black Mary Janes, matching pencil skirt, white dress shirt and a lanyard whose ID read “Lena Enfield.”
I stared at myself in shock, having fallen to my knees and began running my unfamiliar hands over my unfamiliar body, trying to confirm that I wasn’t somehow dreaming.
“Lena!” a voice echoed across the concrete, causing me to jump in a mix of fear and guilt. I turned in the direction of the voice and felt my heart quail at the side of Jackson striding towards me, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant I felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over and I wanted to be absolutely anywhere except anywhere near him, and in that same moment I felt myself dragged back into the cool air of the server room, sitting on the floor with Lena’s laptop on my legs.
We had theorised that it was possible, but had never been arrogant or stupid enough to try it. The psychological risks and ethical dangers it posed were beyond our ability to rationalise and well outside the original scope of the project, though there were rumours that it would eventually be turned towards a similar end.
But I didn’t have time to marvel at the development. Jackson would interrogate Lena, Lena would tell him the truth, and he would run straight here. I had to act fast.
Jackson would head straight for the server room once he realised what had happened.
I could head straight for the director’s office, but there was no guarantee that she wasn’t also in on his plot. I checked the map again: She had her nanites installed and despite her rank in the organisation had also been set to receive, as had every guard on her floor. Jackson really intended to just dominate everyone in the building. I had all the proof I needed to expose Jackson and have him arrested.
We would need to deprogram Lena. Shit, assuming that was even possible. God only knew how badly Jackson had been screwing with her brain, or for how long. And there was always a chance the higher ups would find out and do what higher ups always do when they have the opportunity to take even more wealth and power.
I fretted for much longer than I should have under the circumstances. Maybe there really was no other way, or maybe I was just deliberately backing myself into a corner. Whatever the case, the sudden jangle of keys at the door alerted me that I had run out of time, and that within seconds, Jackson would be in the room to steal back the laptop, or possibly even frame me, now that he’d been discovered.
I’d considered the option and dismissed it as immoral. Self-serving. A road too dangerous to even consider walking down. But having failed to take any other action, it was the only one I had left.
It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. When the chips are down and the pressure is on, the only person you can depend on is yourself.
I dragged my own icon into the super broadcaster position, and hit “execute.”
*
There wasn’t any sudden rush of sensation. There never had been: Broadcasting just took the data you wanted to impart and transmitted a copy to the target. But for some reason, I still expected something.
What did happen was the sound of keys hitting the floor outside, followed by a hollow groan of absolute despair.
I unlocked the door and opened it to find Jackson, grey-faced and swaying with his hands covering his face. Lena was behind him, looking pitiful, but not nearly as distraught as Jackson.
“Hello, Jackson.” I said flatly.
“Don’t…” he moaned through his hands.
People had begun to file into the room, ashen-faced but with a mix of anger, all of them staring at Jackson as he tried to hide behind himself.
I’d used the nanites to broadcast two things: The knowledge of what Jackson had tried to do, and my overwhelming disgust at him for the attempt.
Now everyone knew what he’d done, he knew that they knew and he shared their hatred for himself because I had copied it directly from my mind into his.
“Nobody hurt him,” I said, seeing the balled fists and shaking hands around me. “Nobody let him hurt himself, either. Get him out of here.”
Four men approached Jackson, who didn’t resist as they grimly marched him away. I turned to Lena, who was running her hands through her hair, wide-eyed and shivering.
“H-he was-s in m-my head…” she stammered.
I didn’t have any words of consolation for her. Least of all, because not moments ago I had also been inside her mind. The only reason she knew about Jackson was because I had “told” her. I motioned for another one of the staff to take her away.
“Alright, everyone,” I said to those who remained. “I want an all-hands meeting in the break room. Tell everyone you see, and someone head upstairs to find…”
I trailed off as I realised how much time would be wasted finding everyone in the building and telling them where to go, and then more wasted simply having the meeting itself, and that was assuming nobody disagreed with what I was about to say.
Well, neither of those things were problems anymore, were they?
I activated my transmitter and broadcast a new set of instructions.
“The project is to be terminated. Nobody can be trusted with this power. Destroy all hardware, all documentation, strip the building down and wipe everything.”
The effect was instant: People began moving with an almost frantic purpose, delegating tasks to themselves or people nearby as files began to be pulled out of drawers and shredded, computers wiped and machinery disassembled. I had intended to join in, but found myself at sea in a centre of bustling activity, so instead walked myself out to my car to lie down and clear my head.
Had I done the right thing? Yes. Absolutely. Any other decision would have exposed everyone to the risk of Jackson regaining control, or the project being compromised by a figure in authority. Even if the director was of sound moral character, her superiors might not be, or their superiors above them. Someone, somewhere in the organisation would have tried to take advantage, just like Jackson did. Better to destroy everything and pretend it never happened.
I watched numbly as a procession of staff began to file out with armfuls and boxes of shredded documents, leaving trails of confetti in their wake. Like ants, they threw their boxes into one of the massive steel containers used for waste disposal. Some others had started fussing over the nearest cars, and it took me a while to realise that they were siphoning the petrol.
My initial alarm was quelled somewhat when they left the containers of fuel to one side instead of lighting it immediately. Any kind of fire would alert the emergency services, who would no doubt try to stop what was happening once they arrived.
It was actually kind of peaceful, sitting apart from the action and just watching it unfold. Almost like watching an ant colony cleaning out a lunchbox: All of the inside bits got broken down and taken outside until all that was left was the shell.
They had filled all six bins and four of the cargo trucks by the time they were done. Everything had been reduced to the smallest parts it could be torn, cut, unscrewed, unplugged or just smashed into. There was no cheering as fuel was added or the flames lit from a safe distance. Just the quiet relief of a terrible future averted.
Someone coughed near me and I turned to see Lena and a few other members of staff with a single trolley loaded with some equipment that hadn’t been destroyed. Confused, I turned to Lena.
“Aren’t you going to add it to the pile?” I asked.
“Not this stuff,” Lena said cheerfully, apparently recovered from her earlier breakdown. “We figured it would be a shame if we destroyed literally everything, so we’ve saved some of it. And because you decided to be mister lazy-pants while the rest of us were hard at work, we’re giving you the job of taking care of it.”
I couldn’t stop my brow furrowing in confusion. “I never told you to do that.”
Lena scoffed as the others began loading the equipment into my car. “Good. We’re not here to do what you tell us. The vote was unanimous: We’re all getting out, so you get to babysit the last remnants. Hide it, destroy it, do whatever you want. This is your share of the responsibility. Maybe next time, do your bit instead of wandering off for a nap, okay?”
And with that, they left to join the rapidly dispersing crowd as everyone jumped into their cars or hitched a ride from the others. A column of black smoke reached up from the facility, and it would be a matter of minutes before the firefighters arrived. Just by virtue of the work we were doing, the cops wouldn’t be far behind.
Without time to get everything out of my car and into the fire, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made my way out with the rest, racking my brain furiously as I tried to avoid speeding on my way home.
I never told them to set aside any equipment for me. No, I never CONSCIOUSLY told them. That really was the only explanation: There was no way that - after being given the artificial impression that the entire project needed to be burned to the ground - they would somehow conveniently decide that I should be trusted with the last pieces of evidence. Not just any evidence, either: At a glance I could tell that I had been left with everything I needed to manufacture and configure the nanites myself, just on a much smaller scale.
Despite my best intentions, some small part of myself had subconsciously implanted the addendum that one way or another, I should have the power to continue the project privately.
Fine, then. I’d get home, pack up what little I could fit and get the hell out of the city, state, maybe even country before finding somewhere I could safely destroy the last remains of a terrible mistake.
That was almost two years ago.
I never did get around to destroying that equipment.
mind control
masturbation
possession
stealth control
selfcest
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8
Judy is an isolated shut-in who freezes up during any real-time social interation. She's worked from home her entire life, just getting by on the jobs that require no direct contact, but despite her excellent work, her inability to participate in calls is threatening her work. Now her one remaining major client is at risk unless she shows up to a meeting with his bosses in person! What should she do?
Judy didn’t know what to do.
It was a state of mind she was very familiar with, though that really only made her feel worse. A lifetime of anxiety-induced indecision and a paralysing fear of social interaction had seen her grow from a withdrawn and nebbish child into the adult life of a reclusive shut-in.
It was only thanks to the miracles of the modern age that she was able to find work on a freelance basis with mixed media - graphic design, sound design, programming - instead of simply wasting away in an attic somewhere.
She wasn’t stupid (though anyone would have struggled to convince her of this): She had a keen eye, a deft hand and a knack for problem-solving, so long as the problem could be expressed in a short email or project brief. If only she could maintain her composure when faced with… well, another person’s face, she might have become quite successful in life. As it was, any work that required an in-person meeting or even so much as a video call caused her to shut down in such a way that she couldn’t even bring herself to decline the invitation. The resulting reputation for ghosting had hurt her job prospects, and she realised that if she didn’t do something drastic, the work might dry up entirely.
Right now she had one major client that hadn’t yet written her off as a lost cause, but she could tell it was a close thing. Her work until recently had been very well received, but her contact there had recently been promoted to project manager and he had been determined to pull her up with him, despite her protests.
“It’s my supervisor,” one of his earlier messages read. “Several supervisors, to be honest. They’re refusing to believe that all of the work you’ve done for us could have been done by a single person.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she had replied. “Just tell them I’m a team of people. I could do with a raise.”
“They already think that - which is the problem. They think I’ve outsourced our work overseas.”
Judy had almost bent her stylus when she read that, and had taken a full day to think of a polite and measured way to respond.
“What the fuck?”
“They think you’re a workshop in the Philippines or India or God knows where. Point is, they don’t believe you’re real and now they’re demanding that I only use contractors who verifiably live in the country.”
Judy spent several hours typing up her honest and graphic opinion on what Li could tell his supervisors before deleting the lot and starting over.
Li Yu was not an especially talented IT engineer, nor did he pretend to be. Instead, his greatest talent appeared to be finding the right person for the job and ensuring they got the support they needed to excel. It didn’t sound like a big deal on paper, but Judy was very qualified to appreciate its value and rarity.
“What do they want? Passports? Birth certificates? I’ve got everything I need to prove I’m real - I’ll scan the lot and you can tell them where to stuff it.”
“I did suggest that, but someone’s given them the idea that those can all be faked. Which isn’t technically wrong but is also completely wrong. At any rate, they’re not interested in anything digital or on paper: They want to meet you in person.”
Judy tsked as she typed. “Bullshit, that doesn’t prove anything. I could be a hooker you hired for all they know.” It was an improper way to talk to a client, but her nerves were getting the best of her.
“You can expect a lengthy, if somewhat inept interrogation. I think they might want to take you on as a full time employee, if that’s something you’re interested in?”
“I like being my own boss.”
Judy and Li had spent almost two weeks trying to find a way to convince Li’s supervisors of the truth, but the company’s demands had remained in place. If anything, Judy’s repeated requests for privacy and her aversion to meeting in person had only made them more suspicious, and they had finally reached a point where Li was being forced to find another contractor.
Judy was at a loss.
She had considered showing up as requested, just like she’d considered going to the store to buy milk or even just open the door to receive her grocery delivery, but every time she did, something inside her locked up no matter how hard she fought herself.
“You’re just being a baby,” her unsympathetic parents had told her. Unsympathetic had been the response of the world at large, and she desperately wanted to hold onto the one person who seemed to understand her, or was at least willing to work with her.
But what could she do?
Years ago, a former friend had jokingly suggested that she rent her body out on a possession service - at least that way someone would be getting some use out of her. They hadn’t stayed friends for long after that, and while Judy had investigated much later out of morbid curiosity, the uniformly erotic nature of the service at the time had led to her closing her browser in disgust.
But that had been ages ago, and while she was certain that the market for erotic encounters would be no less lively, it might be possible that some respectable enterprises could have built on the technology. Working from home had become just a part of life; she hadn’t heard of anyone using possession for remote work, but it was possible, right?
Her initial results were not encouraging, but after a bit of tweaking with her search terms, she managed to find what she was looking for.
It was inevitable, really: Introduce any new piece of technology - especially one that allows you to manipulate a complete stranger anonymously - and someone will find a way to make money from it. Sex work was the obvious avenue, but there were plenty of other ways cash in and it went both ways.
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Judy wasted no time, clicking into the automated chat window that appeared.
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Judy grimaced. It wasn’t a pleasant way to think about it, but better to get people used to the idea as soon as possible, she supposed.
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---Fantastic! What kind of skill-set will your session require? For example, you can type “Housekeeping,” “Academic Exam,” or “Physical exercise”---
---Social---
---Almost there! What name would you like to be addressed by during this chat session? You do not have to use your real name, though we will require it before we can complete your booking!---
Judy hesitated.
Fuck it, why not?
---Judy---
---Thanks, Judy! I’ll pass your details along to our sales team, and an agent will be with you shortly! You are currently number [3] in the queue. Your estimated wait time is [15] minutes.---
Judy made herself a coffee while she waited and idly wondered what it must be like being an agent. Hell, now that she was taking the plunge, she might consider offering her own services - no doubt there were plenty of people who would like to pretend to have her skills - but then she remembered that doing so would almost certainly require she interact with someone face-to-face in her client’s body, and she cringed so violently that she almost spilled her mug.
Eventually, a new agent appeared in her chat window by the name of Susan. The idea of chatting with a woman was vaguely comforting before she reminded herself that it could really be anyone on the other side. Even if it really was someone named Susan, it might not be Susan in control. Judy shivered.
---Hello there! Am I chatting with Judy?---
---Yes, hello Susan.---
---Hi Judy, I understand that you’re looking for an agent to attend a social event for you. Could you provide some more details?---
Judy gave as much information as she could without mentioning names or businesses. She mentioned that she would need an agent also skilled in a wide range of media creation tools when Susan replied.
---Skill deficits will not be a problem. Our agents have their own skill sets, but they will also be able to access yours while in control. It’s an automated process that works regardless of whether you are conscious or not, and the information cannot leave your own mind, so the agent loses all memory of your life when they return to their body.---
This was a massive relief. More so than the possibility of being controlled by someone who couldn’t live up to her abilities in person, Judy had been terrified that the agent might try to steal her own memories and personal information.
---What level of expertise do you require? We have agents offering a range of engagement levels, from passive attendance to unforgettable enchantment. Prices are vary based on the difficulty of the task.---
Judy considered what kind of impression she wanted to make. It should be enough to prove that she existed, but “passive attendance” sounded like she may as well be getting controlled by a potato.
---Memorable and charming.---
---Thank you, Judy. I think I can find an agent that will meet these requirements. Before I leave you: You’ve used a female name for this initial contact. Would you have any objections to a male agent?---
Judy was stunned. She hadn’t expected this level of consideration - really it would have made sense for the company not to disclose anything that might make their clients squeamish - but it was a surprising act of honesty. Before she could type, Susan sent another message.
---There’s no guarantee that your agent will be male if you say yes, but it will be something I keep in mind while arranging a shortlist.---
Judy thought about herself, about the way she looked and about the way she lived. The way she saw it, there wasn’t anything worth perving on, and if they did she could obviously report them.
---No objections---
---In that case I think I know someone perfectly suited for this job. Let me get in touch with him to see if he’s available and I’ll send you an email with available dates and prices. Is there anything you would like to ask before I end this conversation?---
Judy hesitated.
---What happens if my agent
Judy left the half-finished message in the text box.
does something inappropriate with my body?---
---You can communicate with your agent from within your own mind at all times. Your agent is required to behave according to your direction, and we have harsh penalties for anyone who abuses the trust of our clients.---
Judy grimaced, but nodded. She only had their word for it, of course, but for now their word would just have to do.
---Thank you Susan. That’s everything for now.---
---You’re very welcome, Judy. We’ll be in touch soon.---
The window blinked out of existence, and Judy realised that she had deafened herself to the thunder of her own anxious heartbeat. She stepped away from the computer for a while, choosing to lie down on the couch under the skylight until she calmed down.
Was she really going ahead with this? But she’d already tried everything else with Li. The only other option was simply accepting that she couldn’t do any work for him anymore and watching her savings dwindle away as the work dried up. Not that she was expecting this to be cheap, but it at least meant that she could keep working with Li.
Should she tell him? Absolutely not! He was in deep enough trouble as it was - if she told him and he somehow let slip that she was being controlled by an agent, his supervisors would lose it completely! No, it was far, far better for her to keep this one little excursion to herself. Maybe she would tell him later, but not now.
In the meantime, Judy pulled out her phone and sent him a message.
---Any luck?---
Li’s reply came almost immediately; a sure sign that he was anxious.
---Not really, but I’m exploring some options.---
Judy sighed. That was the closest he usually got to admitting he was out of ideas. She’d saved him more than a few times with some last-minute creative solutions, and here she was again, saving them both.
---I think I might have something.---
---Oh?---
---I think I should just suck it up and meet your bosses in person.---
The ellipsis icon blinked on and off several times, indicating that Li was having trouble responding.
---Are you sure? You really don’t have to push yourself like that.---
---I don’t want to, but I think there’s too much at stake for both of us, so I’m preparing myself to make this one exception.---
---You’re definitely sure?---
---Definitely. Don’t let me change my mind.---
---I’ll call them now.---
And that was it. She was committed. Oh, sure she could still technically chicken out, but it would probably end both of their careers on the spot if she tried that. Li would almost certainly have to throw her under the bus just to keep his job. No, she was effectively locked in. All there was to do now was arrange a date, pay the fee and meet her agent.
***
The replies came in at almost the same time, with the possession agent making contact while Judy was still choosing which date to meet with Li.
Judy opened the chat invitation in another window.
---Hello, am I speaking with Judy?---
---Yes.---
---Hi, Judy. I’ll be your agent for the session you have requested. Are you still interested in our services?---
Judy hesitated.
---I just need to make a good impression on a friend’s bosses. No funny business. Can you do that?---
---I’ve got an excellent track record for good impressions. You’re in safe hands.---
---About that. Susan told me you’re a guy. Is that true?---
Susan counted the seconds under her breath before her agent responded.
---That’s correct. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can ask Susan to find another agent for you.---
It should have made Judy uncomfortable. If anything, she was more uncomfortable at how unbothered she was about it. Not about being controlled - she was plenty unsettled at the idea, even now - but it seemed like it really didn’t matter whether the person controlling her was a man or a woman. She’d be at their mercy either way.
---No, that’s fine. Susan told me that you get into trouble if you try anything.---
---That’s an understatement, believe me.---
He was probably telling the truth. Operations like this flew under the legal radar specifically because they didn’t cause any problems the law cared to investigate. Yet.
---Okay. I’ve been offered a dinner appointment either this or next Saturday.---
---I’m free both days. Which would you prefer?---
---The night after tomorrow, then. 7pm.---
---Until?---
Judy bit her lip.
---9pm. We turn up, we make small talk, we eat, we leave.---
---On that kind of timeline, I would recommend a 4pm start and a 10pm finish. Sessions are charged at a minimum of 6 hours anyway, and it will give us time to prepare and debrief.---
Judy’s eyes narrowed.
---Prepare? Debrief?---
---We’ll need to recover the agent control device after the session. My services also include cosmetics and apparel at no extra charge. Policy prevents you from sharing any personal information or images that I might use to plan ahead, but I’ve found that I get the best results when I’ve had time to customise a look for the occasion.---
Judy had never once considered her appearance in terms of anything beyond personal hygiene. She was clean, but otherwise utterly unadorned. What would have been the point?
---I guess you couldn’t do any worse.---
---Ah. In that case, I think I can pleasantly surprise you.---
Judy sighed.
---Sure, sure. So what is this going to cost me?---
The agent sent her a lump sum figure as well as some possible payment plan options.
Judy grimaced. Whatever way she spun it, it was going to cost about a tenth of her total savings. Still, if it meant being able to maintain steady work, it was worth it.
---I’ll pay up front?---
---No worries. Susan will send you the Fund-a-Friend address directly. Would you prefer a home delivery or dead drop?---
Judy sighed. In her case, there wasn’t really much of a choice.
---Home delivery.---
---No problems. Once we have received payment, you will receive a form to add your address. We’ll need a photo of somewhere safe to leave the package - it’s about the size of a deck of cards. Once the package is delivered, you’ll receive another message to retrieve it. Instructions will be inside.---
---Okay. Is there anything else we need to cover?---
---That’s about everything for the time being. You should hear from Susan soon. I’m looking forward to working with you!---
The chat window turned grey as the agent’s side went inactive, and Judy did a quick skim of the conversation history before closing it. She’d only just accepted the dinner invite for that Saturday when another message from Susan arrived requesting payment and the relevant details.
Judy transferred her money to the nominated shell company, feeling her heart sink along with her bank balance. Once again, she had nothing to do but wait and hope she hadn’t just been scammed.
***
Judy couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t focus. She could barely eat.
The anxiety was killing her, and every second that the courier’s message didn’t arrive was agony. Had she been scammed? How would she know? The dinner was tomorrow and she still hadn’t heard a thing! How late could she leave it before cancelling?
Streaming shows was dull, the news was the same old crap, gaming felt hollow and pointless, music was just noise and everything she tried to eat turned to tasteless mush in her mouth.
She almost jumped out of her skin when the message notification finally came in.
Slowly, silently, as though she somehow expected the courier to be waiting outside to pounce on her, Judy carefully opened her front door the tiniest amount needed to see into the hallway beyond. Seeing nobody, she quickly opened the door enough to dart around the frame, reaching for the small paper package on the floor.
As she pulled back, she noticed a nondescript figure at the far end of the hall. It didn’t seem to have noticed her, but her blood ran cold as she pulled back inside, closing and locking the door behind her.
Before she had a chance to speculate, she received another message.
---Delivery confirmed. Have a nice day---
Of course it was the courier. There was no way they could risk their deliveries being stolen off the stoop. Still, it left Judy feeling rattled as well as light-headed, having taken yet another step to surrendering control of her body.
The package contained what looked like a single earbud, albeit with a much larger magnet casing than she’d ever seen on actual headphones.
It was tempting to try it on now. Not that she expected anything to happen, just to get used to the idea of wearing it. Nothing was going to happen if she put it in now, was it? Her appointment wasn’t until tomorrow, but maybe it would be a good idea to try it on so that she didn’t have second thoughts or maybe even make a mistake later. She should put it on. Nothing was going to happen. Just put it on.
Mouth dry, heart racing, Judy carefully slipped the bud into her ear as per the instructions. Without consciously meaning to, or perhaps trying to fool herself into thinking she’d done it by accident, she pressed the Connect button.
Nothing happened.
***
Judy had hoped that some kind of concrete evidence would alleviate her anxiety somewhat.
It didn’t: She was still anxious, she just had a weird earpiece looking thing to speculate about at the same time.
In spite of her agent saying he would arrange their outfit, she had gone through her wardrobe and assembled what she judged to be… well, if not charming, then at least decent outfits. It wasn’t that she lacked a sense of aesthetic - her character and costume designs across several projects had been met with overwhelming positivity - it was just that she’d never bought anything flattering for herself because what was the point? The same went for makeup; while some women would at least apply what they considered to be the bare necessities, Judy just went bare. No need to bother painting her face when nobody was going to see it.
She had felt an odd kind of relief to learn that a lot of other women cottoned onto the same mindset during lockdown.
Still, she had a mismatched assortment of stuff that had accumulated in her room over the years. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy her agent - she didn’t want him going crazy or anything.
She kept in touch with Li, who was beside himself with excitement. She had to tell him to calm down several times, reminding him that this whole arrangement was very much a one-off and very, very much under duress. After this, his bosses could shut the hell up and be happy that he was getting excellent work from her at an affordable price.
The time seemed to pass both too slowly and all at once, and suddenly it was 3:55pm.
Judy lay on her bed, earpiece in place, the seconds trickling away on her phone screen.
She could still back out of this. Sure, she’d lose every penny of the money she’d spent, but she’d at least have never given control of her body to a complete stranger, to dance around like a puppet in front of other complete strangers.
She had the same argument she’d had with herself before she had opened the website, and again and again since then, and just like every other time, the part of her that wanted to just curl up into a ball lost.
She pressed the Connect button, her heart skipping as this time she heard the clear two-tone beep indicating that the device was connected and ready to download her agent.
Last chance to back out.
Judy took a shuddering breath, and pressed again.
It was like having a stream of ice-cold water poured into her ear; water that flash-flooded her entire body, causing her to gasp and choke and her body to shudder violently in place. For a brief moment she was terrified that something had gone wrong, that she was suffering some kind of seizure or maybe some kind of horrifying nerve damage, but the sensation quickly faded, leaving her still feeling cold to her core and strangely hollow.
She tried to raise her hand.
Nothing happened.
She tried to blink.
Nothing happened.
She tried to stir her suddenly sluggish heart.
Nothing happened.
All she could do was lay deathly still as her chest rose and fell with almost imperceptible slowness.
Once again, she was afraid that something had gone wrong. Had the transmission failed? Was she about to be left here, paralyzed by her own foolishness until she eventually died of dehydration? Nobody would even know she was in trouble - Li would assume she’d ghosted him and the agency certainly wasn’t about to get involved except maybe to recover the earpiece from her helpless body. Trapped and fearful, she couldn’t even muster the control needed to cry.
And suddenly, she felt a burst of warmth in her ear.
It wasn’t violent or overwhelming like it had been earlier: This time it was like she was an empty bottle, and someone was pouring warm honey into her. She felt it trickle down her face, her neck, the entire length of her body until it pooled in her toes, filling them with warmth and banishing the chill that had taken hold of her.
As the warmth reached her ankles, she felt her feet rotate themselves experimentally, flexing and curling her toes. It was happening! The agent was taking control!
The warmth crept up her legs, filling her calves, then her thighs, then her waist and…
Judy had been mentally bracing herself for some kind of flare of sensation as the warmth reached her sex - some indication that a perverted mind was gleefully savouring the control it had taken from her - but found herself almost disappointed when this didn’t happen. Instead, her body raised its bent legs up above her, rotating left and right as though testing for any mobility issues.
I’m perfectly healthy, thank you, Judy thought testily.
Her stomach and chest were next, and again Judy had to convince herself that she wasn’t frustrated at the lack of any sudden rush of sensation in her breasts or nipples. Instead, she felt her heart rate speed up to something more familiar, her breathing returning to its usual depth.
Now the warmth split at her shoulders, running down to her fingers as the flow found a new outlet. As with her legs, sluggish hands slowly came to life, lifting themselves into the air and flexing experimentally. Judy didn’t get the sensation that her agent could see anything yet, but the control and purpose behind the movement gave her the impression that this was a check they had done several times before.
Her arms quickly filled to the shoulder, and now the warmth was crawling up her neck, filling it as it reached the base of her skull and she felt her mouth swallow of its own accord.
With almost nothing of the cold remaining, the warmth passed her lips, her nose, her eyes, and then faded completely. Judy was laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She blinked.
More accurately, her body blinked.
Judy saw her vision survey the room slowly, the agent controlling her body getting his bearings before slowly sitting up and dangling her legs off the edge. He reached up both arms to stretch, pulling her shoulders back in a way that made Judy regret the many long nights spent hunched in front of a screen. Next he rotated her body side to side, using her hands to anchor himself until her spine popped. After that it was her legs - again, nothing sensual like she had dreaded, just a clinical test of functionality.
Her body stood up, and Judy experienced the terrible vertigo that came from having her point of view change position without having any control over it. She had automatically and foolishly expected a kind of out of body experience, where she was an outside observer while her body was controlled. In hindsight, it was a silly way of thinking - she was still in here, she just wasn’t in control.
She watched her body look around the room again, and this time she felt a tickling sensation in her mind.
The bathroom is through that door.
She hadn’t consciously thought it, the knowledge had simply been pulled out of her, like a note out of a filing cabinet. Her mind shivered in unease at how easily her agent had dipped into her memory.
“It’s always unsetting when it happens for the first time,” she heard herself say and felt a gentle smile form on her lips. “You’ll get used to it.”
Her vision pivoted towards the door to the en suite and she watched - a passenger gazing through the viewing deck of her own eyes - as her room passed around her as her body walked itself forwards. It was a very disconcerting but also strangely fascinating experience.
Her hand reached out and turned the handle.
The light switch is on the right hand side at about waist height.
Her vision didn’t turn. Instead her hand reached out with the familiarity of one who had lived here all their adult life, flicking on the light without a second thought.
Her vision darkened as her body shut its eyes against the bright light. She never had learned to prepare herself for the glare, no matter how many times it caught her.
Opening her eyes slowly, she saw her body standing in front of the bathroom mirror.
It was a familiar sight: It was her plain face framed by her unkempt hair, her frumpy sweater over her wrinkled clothes. But the posture and facial expression were wrong. This other Judy in front of her stood with her shoulders back instead of the habitual slouch, and the expression of light-hearted cheer on her face was disturbingly alien.
Her body wrinkled its brow, but its smile didn’t fade.
“It’s not that bad, is it?” her voice said.
Judy was ashamed to realise that she mustn’t have seen her own smile in years.
“Well,” her body said, “hopefully we can change that, if only for today.”
Judy wondered what her agent’s name was, knowing even as she did so that he could probably hear or at least sense her question.
Her body tapped its nose with a reluctant grin. “Can’t tell you that, I’m afraid. But for the duration of my stay, you can call me JD.”
Like John Doe, Judy thought.
“Like John Doe,” her body agreed cautiously. “But I like to think of it as ‘Judy’ without the ‘u.’ It’s nice to finally meet you, Judy. Face-to-face, as it were.”
Judy groaned inwardly, but found herself warming to JD’s attempt at humour. It was strange that the first in-person voice she would hear in conversation for years would be her own, and the strangeness seemed to overcome the anxiety that would ordinarily cause her to shut down completely.
“It’s a benefit of the control I have,” JD explained. “Our emotions are nominally separate, but the process of communicating with you and accessing your memories involves passing on a part of my mental state into yours. So even if you are - as you think of yourself - a neurotic shut-in, you have enough of me in you right now to make the experience bearable.”
Judy marvelled in a mix of amazement and concern at the implications of what she had just heard herself say. She had truly passed the point of no return, now: A stranger was wearing her body, indirectly controlling her mind and all she could do for the next six hours was watch.
The loss of control was - if anything - a relief, and Judy found herself feeling strangely optimistic about the night ahead.
Her reflection grinned back at her.
“Let’s get ready then, shall we?”
Judy didn’t know what to do.
It was a state of mind she was very familiar with, though that really only made her feel worse. A lifetime of anxiety-induced indecision and a paralysing fear of social interaction had seen her grow from a withdrawn and nebbish child into the adult life of a reclusive shut-in.
It was only thanks to the miracles of the modern age that she was able to find work on a freelance basis with mixed media - graphic design, sound design, programming - instead of simply wasting away in an attic somewhere.
She wasn’t stupid (though anyone would have struggled to convince her of this): She had a keen eye, a deft hand and a knack for problem-solving, so long as the problem could be expressed in a short email or project brief. If only she could maintain her composure when faced with… well, another person’s face, she might have become quite successful in life. As it was, any work that required an in-person meeting or even so much as a video call caused her to shut down in such a way that she couldn’t even bring herself to decline the invitation. The resulting reputation for ghosting had hurt her job prospects, and she realised that if she didn’t do something drastic, the work might dry up entirely.
Right now she had one major client that hadn’t yet written her off as a lost cause, but she could tell it was a close thing. Her work until recently had been very well received, but her contact there had recently been promoted to project manager and he had been determined to pull her up with him, despite her protests.
“It’s my supervisor,” one of his earlier messages read. “Several supervisors, to be honest. They’re refusing to believe that all of the work you’ve done for us could have been done by a single person.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she had replied. “Just tell them I’m a team of people. I could do with a raise.”
“They already think that - which is the problem. They think I’ve outsourced our work overseas.”
Judy had almost bent her stylus when she read that, and had taken a full day to think of a polite and measured way to respond.
“What the fuck?”
“They think you’re a workshop in the Philippines or India or God knows where. Point is, they don’t believe you’re real and now they’re demanding that I only use contractors who verifiably live in the country.”
Judy spent several hours typing up her honest and graphic opinion on what Li could tell his supervisors before deleting the lot and starting over.
Li Yu was not an especially talented IT engineer, nor did he pretend to be. Instead, his greatest talent appeared to be finding the right person for the job and ensuring they got the support they needed to excel. It didn’t sound like a big deal on paper, but Judy was very qualified to appreciate its value and rarity.
“What do they want? Passports? Birth certificates? I’ve got everything I need to prove I’m real - I’ll scan the lot and you can tell them where to stuff it.”
“I did suggest that, but someone’s given them the idea that those can all be faked. Which isn’t technically wrong but is also completely wrong. At any rate, they’re not interested in anything digital or on paper: They want to meet you in person.”
Judy tsked as she typed. “Bullshit, that doesn’t prove anything. I could be a hooker you hired for all they know.” It was an improper way to talk to a client, but her nerves were getting the best of her.
“You can expect a lengthy, if somewhat inept interrogation. I think they might want to take you on as a full time employee, if that’s something you’re interested in?”
“I like being my own boss.”
Judy and Li had spent almost two weeks trying to find a way to convince Li’s supervisors of the truth, but the company’s demands had remained in place. If anything, Judy’s repeated requests for privacy and her aversion to meeting in person had only made them more suspicious, and they had finally reached a point where Li was being forced to find another contractor.
Judy was at a loss.
She had considered showing up as requested, just like she’d considered going to the store to buy milk or even just open the door to receive her grocery delivery, but every time she did, something inside her locked up no matter how hard she fought herself.
“You’re just being a baby,” her unsympathetic parents had told her. Unsympathetic had been the response of the world at large, and she desperately wanted to hold onto the one person who seemed to understand her, or was at least willing to work with her.
But what could she do?
Years ago, a former friend had jokingly suggested that she rent her body out on a possession service - at least that way someone would be getting some use out of her. They hadn’t stayed friends for long after that, and while Judy had investigated much later out of morbid curiosity, the uniformly erotic nature of the service at the time had led to her closing her browser in disgust.
But that had been ages ago, and while she was certain that the market for erotic encounters would be no less lively, it might be possible that some respectable enterprises could have built on the technology. Working from home had become just a part of life; she hadn’t heard of anyone using possession for remote work, but it was possible, right?
Her initial results were not encouraging, but after a bit of tweaking with her search terms, she managed to find what she was looking for.
It was inevitable, really: Introduce any new piece of technology - especially one that allows you to manipulate a complete stranger anonymously - and someone will find a way to make money from it. Sex work was the obvious avenue, but there were plenty of other ways cash in and it went both ways.
Got an important test? Boring social event? Chores piling up? Let someone else take the wheel while you watch from the background, or take a nap in the comfort of your own head. Sign up now for a week’s trial of our fitness special: We do the reps, you get the results!
Judy wasted no time, clicking into the automated chat window that appeared.
---Hello! Are you a new or existing customer?---
---New---
---That’s great! Are you looking to rent or be rented?---
Judy grimaced. It wasn’t a pleasant way to think about it, but better to get people used to the idea as soon as possible, she supposed.
---Rent---
---No problem! Do you want to rent a body or an agent?---
---Agent---
---Fantastic! What kind of skill-set will your session require? For example, you can type “Housekeeping,” “Academic Exam,” or “Physical exercise”---
---Social---
---Almost there! What name would you like to be addressed by during this chat session? You do not have to use your real name, though we will require it before we can complete your booking!---
Judy hesitated.
Fuck it, why not?
---Judy---
---Thanks, Judy! I’ll pass your details along to our sales team, and an agent will be with you shortly! You are currently number [3] in the queue. Your estimated wait time is [15] minutes.---
Judy made herself a coffee while she waited and idly wondered what it must be like being an agent. Hell, now that she was taking the plunge, she might consider offering her own services - no doubt there were plenty of people who would like to pretend to have her skills - but then she remembered that doing so would almost certainly require she interact with someone face-to-face in her client’s body, and she cringed so violently that she almost spilled her mug.
Eventually, a new agent appeared in her chat window by the name of Susan. The idea of chatting with a woman was vaguely comforting before she reminded herself that it could really be anyone on the other side. Even if it really was someone named Susan, it might not be Susan in control. Judy shivered.
---Hello there! Am I chatting with Judy?---
---Yes, hello Susan.---
---Hi Judy, I understand that you’re looking for an agent to attend a social event for you. Could you provide some more details?---
Judy gave as much information as she could without mentioning names or businesses. She mentioned that she would need an agent also skilled in a wide range of media creation tools when Susan replied.
---Skill deficits will not be a problem. Our agents have their own skill sets, but they will also be able to access yours while in control. It’s an automated process that works regardless of whether you are conscious or not, and the information cannot leave your own mind, so the agent loses all memory of your life when they return to their body.---
This was a massive relief. More so than the possibility of being controlled by someone who couldn’t live up to her abilities in person, Judy had been terrified that the agent might try to steal her own memories and personal information.
---What level of expertise do you require? We have agents offering a range of engagement levels, from passive attendance to unforgettable enchantment. Prices are vary based on the difficulty of the task.---
Judy considered what kind of impression she wanted to make. It should be enough to prove that she existed, but “passive attendance” sounded like she may as well be getting controlled by a potato.
---Memorable and charming.---
---Thank you, Judy. I think I can find an agent that will meet these requirements. Before I leave you: You’ve used a female name for this initial contact. Would you have any objections to a male agent?---
Judy was stunned. She hadn’t expected this level of consideration - really it would have made sense for the company not to disclose anything that might make their clients squeamish - but it was a surprising act of honesty. Before she could type, Susan sent another message.
---There’s no guarantee that your agent will be male if you say yes, but it will be something I keep in mind while arranging a shortlist.---
Judy thought about herself, about the way she looked and about the way she lived. The way she saw it, there wasn’t anything worth perving on, and if they did she could obviously report them.
---No objections---
---In that case I think I know someone perfectly suited for this job. Let me get in touch with him to see if he’s available and I’ll send you an email with available dates and prices. Is there anything you would like to ask before I end this conversation?---
Judy hesitated.
---What happens if my agent
Judy left the half-finished message in the text box.
does something inappropriate with my body?---
---You can communicate with your agent from within your own mind at all times. Your agent is required to behave according to your direction, and we have harsh penalties for anyone who abuses the trust of our clients.---
Judy grimaced, but nodded. She only had their word for it, of course, but for now their word would just have to do.
---Thank you Susan. That’s everything for now.---
---You’re very welcome, Judy. We’ll be in touch soon.---
The window blinked out of existence, and Judy realised that she had deafened herself to the thunder of her own anxious heartbeat. She stepped away from the computer for a while, choosing to lie down on the couch under the skylight until she calmed down.
Was she really going ahead with this? But she’d already tried everything else with Li. The only other option was simply accepting that she couldn’t do any work for him anymore and watching her savings dwindle away as the work dried up. Not that she was expecting this to be cheap, but it at least meant that she could keep working with Li.
Should she tell him? Absolutely not! He was in deep enough trouble as it was - if she told him and he somehow let slip that she was being controlled by an agent, his supervisors would lose it completely! No, it was far, far better for her to keep this one little excursion to herself. Maybe she would tell him later, but not now.
In the meantime, Judy pulled out her phone and sent him a message.
---Any luck?---
Li’s reply came almost immediately; a sure sign that he was anxious.
---Not really, but I’m exploring some options.---
Judy sighed. That was the closest he usually got to admitting he was out of ideas. She’d saved him more than a few times with some last-minute creative solutions, and here she was again, saving them both.
---I think I might have something.---
---Oh?---
---I think I should just suck it up and meet your bosses in person.---
The ellipsis icon blinked on and off several times, indicating that Li was having trouble responding.
---Are you sure? You really don’t have to push yourself like that.---
---I don’t want to, but I think there’s too much at stake for both of us, so I’m preparing myself to make this one exception.---
---You’re definitely sure?---
---Definitely. Don’t let me change my mind.---
---I’ll call them now.---
And that was it. She was committed. Oh, sure she could still technically chicken out, but it would probably end both of their careers on the spot if she tried that. Li would almost certainly have to throw her under the bus just to keep his job. No, she was effectively locked in. All there was to do now was arrange a date, pay the fee and meet her agent.
***
The replies came in at almost the same time, with the possession agent making contact while Judy was still choosing which date to meet with Li.
Judy opened the chat invitation in another window.
---Hello, am I speaking with Judy?---
---Yes.---
---Hi, Judy. I’ll be your agent for the session you have requested. Are you still interested in our services?---
Judy hesitated.
---I just need to make a good impression on a friend’s bosses. No funny business. Can you do that?---
---I’ve got an excellent track record for good impressions. You’re in safe hands.---
---About that. Susan told me you’re a guy. Is that true?---
Susan counted the seconds under her breath before her agent responded.
---That’s correct. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can ask Susan to find another agent for you.---
It should have made Judy uncomfortable. If anything, she was more uncomfortable at how unbothered she was about it. Not about being controlled - she was plenty unsettled at the idea, even now - but it seemed like it really didn’t matter whether the person controlling her was a man or a woman. She’d be at their mercy either way.
---No, that’s fine. Susan told me that you get into trouble if you try anything.---
---That’s an understatement, believe me.---
He was probably telling the truth. Operations like this flew under the legal radar specifically because they didn’t cause any problems the law cared to investigate. Yet.
---Okay. I’ve been offered a dinner appointment either this or next Saturday.---
---I’m free both days. Which would you prefer?---
---The night after tomorrow, then. 7pm.---
---Until?---
Judy bit her lip.
---9pm. We turn up, we make small talk, we eat, we leave.---
---On that kind of timeline, I would recommend a 4pm start and a 10pm finish. Sessions are charged at a minimum of 6 hours anyway, and it will give us time to prepare and debrief.---
Judy’s eyes narrowed.
---Prepare? Debrief?---
---We’ll need to recover the agent control device after the session. My services also include cosmetics and apparel at no extra charge. Policy prevents you from sharing any personal information or images that I might use to plan ahead, but I’ve found that I get the best results when I’ve had time to customise a look for the occasion.---
Judy had never once considered her appearance in terms of anything beyond personal hygiene. She was clean, but otherwise utterly unadorned. What would have been the point?
---I guess you couldn’t do any worse.---
---Ah. In that case, I think I can pleasantly surprise you.---
Judy sighed.
---Sure, sure. So what is this going to cost me?---
The agent sent her a lump sum figure as well as some possible payment plan options.
Judy grimaced. Whatever way she spun it, it was going to cost about a tenth of her total savings. Still, if it meant being able to maintain steady work, it was worth it.
---I’ll pay up front?---
---No worries. Susan will send you the Fund-a-Friend address directly. Would you prefer a home delivery or dead drop?---
Judy sighed. In her case, there wasn’t really much of a choice.
---Home delivery.---
---No problems. Once we have received payment, you will receive a form to add your address. We’ll need a photo of somewhere safe to leave the package - it’s about the size of a deck of cards. Once the package is delivered, you’ll receive another message to retrieve it. Instructions will be inside.---
---Okay. Is there anything else we need to cover?---
---That’s about everything for the time being. You should hear from Susan soon. I’m looking forward to working with you!---
The chat window turned grey as the agent’s side went inactive, and Judy did a quick skim of the conversation history before closing it. She’d only just accepted the dinner invite for that Saturday when another message from Susan arrived requesting payment and the relevant details.
Judy transferred her money to the nominated shell company, feeling her heart sink along with her bank balance. Once again, she had nothing to do but wait and hope she hadn’t just been scammed.
***
Judy couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t focus. She could barely eat.
The anxiety was killing her, and every second that the courier’s message didn’t arrive was agony. Had she been scammed? How would she know? The dinner was tomorrow and she still hadn’t heard a thing! How late could she leave it before cancelling?
Streaming shows was dull, the news was the same old crap, gaming felt hollow and pointless, music was just noise and everything she tried to eat turned to tasteless mush in her mouth.
She almost jumped out of her skin when the message notification finally came in.
Slowly, silently, as though she somehow expected the courier to be waiting outside to pounce on her, Judy carefully opened her front door the tiniest amount needed to see into the hallway beyond. Seeing nobody, she quickly opened the door enough to dart around the frame, reaching for the small paper package on the floor.
As she pulled back, she noticed a nondescript figure at the far end of the hall. It didn’t seem to have noticed her, but her blood ran cold as she pulled back inside, closing and locking the door behind her.
Before she had a chance to speculate, she received another message.
---Delivery confirmed. Have a nice day---
Of course it was the courier. There was no way they could risk their deliveries being stolen off the stoop. Still, it left Judy feeling rattled as well as light-headed, having taken yet another step to surrendering control of her body.
The package contained what looked like a single earbud, albeit with a much larger magnet casing than she’d ever seen on actual headphones.
It was tempting to try it on now. Not that she expected anything to happen, just to get used to the idea of wearing it. Nothing was going to happen if she put it in now, was it? Her appointment wasn’t until tomorrow, but maybe it would be a good idea to try it on so that she didn’t have second thoughts or maybe even make a mistake later. She should put it on. Nothing was going to happen. Just put it on.
Mouth dry, heart racing, Judy carefully slipped the bud into her ear as per the instructions. Without consciously meaning to, or perhaps trying to fool herself into thinking she’d done it by accident, she pressed the Connect button.
Nothing happened.
***
Judy had hoped that some kind of concrete evidence would alleviate her anxiety somewhat.
It didn’t: She was still anxious, she just had a weird earpiece looking thing to speculate about at the same time.
In spite of her agent saying he would arrange their outfit, she had gone through her wardrobe and assembled what she judged to be… well, if not charming, then at least decent outfits. It wasn’t that she lacked a sense of aesthetic - her character and costume designs across several projects had been met with overwhelming positivity - it was just that she’d never bought anything flattering for herself because what was the point? The same went for makeup; while some women would at least apply what they considered to be the bare necessities, Judy just went bare. No need to bother painting her face when nobody was going to see it.
She had felt an odd kind of relief to learn that a lot of other women cottoned onto the same mindset during lockdown.
Still, she had a mismatched assortment of stuff that had accumulated in her room over the years. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy her agent - she didn’t want him going crazy or anything.
She kept in touch with Li, who was beside himself with excitement. She had to tell him to calm down several times, reminding him that this whole arrangement was very much a one-off and very, very much under duress. After this, his bosses could shut the hell up and be happy that he was getting excellent work from her at an affordable price.
The time seemed to pass both too slowly and all at once, and suddenly it was 3:55pm.
Judy lay on her bed, earpiece in place, the seconds trickling away on her phone screen.
She could still back out of this. Sure, she’d lose every penny of the money she’d spent, but she’d at least have never given control of her body to a complete stranger, to dance around like a puppet in front of other complete strangers.
She had the same argument she’d had with herself before she had opened the website, and again and again since then, and just like every other time, the part of her that wanted to just curl up into a ball lost.
She pressed the Connect button, her heart skipping as this time she heard the clear two-tone beep indicating that the device was connected and ready to download her agent.
Last chance to back out.
Judy took a shuddering breath, and pressed again.
It was like having a stream of ice-cold water poured into her ear; water that flash-flooded her entire body, causing her to gasp and choke and her body to shudder violently in place. For a brief moment she was terrified that something had gone wrong, that she was suffering some kind of seizure or maybe some kind of horrifying nerve damage, but the sensation quickly faded, leaving her still feeling cold to her core and strangely hollow.
She tried to raise her hand.
Nothing happened.
She tried to blink.
Nothing happened.
She tried to stir her suddenly sluggish heart.
Nothing happened.
All she could do was lay deathly still as her chest rose and fell with almost imperceptible slowness.
Once again, she was afraid that something had gone wrong. Had the transmission failed? Was she about to be left here, paralyzed by her own foolishness until she eventually died of dehydration? Nobody would even know she was in trouble - Li would assume she’d ghosted him and the agency certainly wasn’t about to get involved except maybe to recover the earpiece from her helpless body. Trapped and fearful, she couldn’t even muster the control needed to cry.
And suddenly, she felt a burst of warmth in her ear.
It wasn’t violent or overwhelming like it had been earlier: This time it was like she was an empty bottle, and someone was pouring warm honey into her. She felt it trickle down her face, her neck, the entire length of her body until it pooled in her toes, filling them with warmth and banishing the chill that had taken hold of her.
As the warmth reached her ankles, she felt her feet rotate themselves experimentally, flexing and curling her toes. It was happening! The agent was taking control!
The warmth crept up her legs, filling her calves, then her thighs, then her waist and…
Judy had been mentally bracing herself for some kind of flare of sensation as the warmth reached her sex - some indication that a perverted mind was gleefully savouring the control it had taken from her - but found herself almost disappointed when this didn’t happen. Instead, her body raised its bent legs up above her, rotating left and right as though testing for any mobility issues.
I’m perfectly healthy, thank you, Judy thought testily.
Her stomach and chest were next, and again Judy had to convince herself that she wasn’t frustrated at the lack of any sudden rush of sensation in her breasts or nipples. Instead, she felt her heart rate speed up to something more familiar, her breathing returning to its usual depth.
Now the warmth split at her shoulders, running down to her fingers as the flow found a new outlet. As with her legs, sluggish hands slowly came to life, lifting themselves into the air and flexing experimentally. Judy didn’t get the sensation that her agent could see anything yet, but the control and purpose behind the movement gave her the impression that this was a check they had done several times before.
Her arms quickly filled to the shoulder, and now the warmth was crawling up her neck, filling it as it reached the base of her skull and she felt her mouth swallow of its own accord.
With almost nothing of the cold remaining, the warmth passed her lips, her nose, her eyes, and then faded completely. Judy was laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She blinked.
More accurately, her body blinked.
Judy saw her vision survey the room slowly, the agent controlling her body getting his bearings before slowly sitting up and dangling her legs off the edge. He reached up both arms to stretch, pulling her shoulders back in a way that made Judy regret the many long nights spent hunched in front of a screen. Next he rotated her body side to side, using her hands to anchor himself until her spine popped. After that it was her legs - again, nothing sensual like she had dreaded, just a clinical test of functionality.
Her body stood up, and Judy experienced the terrible vertigo that came from having her point of view change position without having any control over it. She had automatically and foolishly expected a kind of out of body experience, where she was an outside observer while her body was controlled. In hindsight, it was a silly way of thinking - she was still in here, she just wasn’t in control.
She watched her body look around the room again, and this time she felt a tickling sensation in her mind.
The bathroom is through that door.
She hadn’t consciously thought it, the knowledge had simply been pulled out of her, like a note out of a filing cabinet. Her mind shivered in unease at how easily her agent had dipped into her memory.
“It’s always unsetting when it happens for the first time,” she heard herself say and felt a gentle smile form on her lips. “You’ll get used to it.”
Her vision pivoted towards the door to the en suite and she watched - a passenger gazing through the viewing deck of her own eyes - as her room passed around her as her body walked itself forwards. It was a very disconcerting but also strangely fascinating experience.
Her hand reached out and turned the handle.
The light switch is on the right hand side at about waist height.
Her vision didn’t turn. Instead her hand reached out with the familiarity of one who had lived here all their adult life, flicking on the light without a second thought.
Her vision darkened as her body shut its eyes against the bright light. She never had learned to prepare herself for the glare, no matter how many times it caught her.
Opening her eyes slowly, she saw her body standing in front of the bathroom mirror.
It was a familiar sight: It was her plain face framed by her unkempt hair, her frumpy sweater over her wrinkled clothes. But the posture and facial expression were wrong. This other Judy in front of her stood with her shoulders back instead of the habitual slouch, and the expression of light-hearted cheer on her face was disturbingly alien.
Her body wrinkled its brow, but its smile didn’t fade.
“It’s not that bad, is it?” her voice said.
Judy was ashamed to realise that she mustn’t have seen her own smile in years.
“Well,” her body said, “hopefully we can change that, if only for today.”
Judy wondered what her agent’s name was, knowing even as she did so that he could probably hear or at least sense her question.
Her body tapped its nose with a reluctant grin. “Can’t tell you that, I’m afraid. But for the duration of my stay, you can call me JD.”
Like John Doe, Judy thought.
“Like John Doe,” her body agreed cautiously. “But I like to think of it as ‘Judy’ without the ‘u.’ It’s nice to finally meet you, Judy. Face-to-face, as it were.”
Judy groaned inwardly, but found herself warming to JD’s attempt at humour. It was strange that the first in-person voice she would hear in conversation for years would be her own, and the strangeness seemed to overcome the anxiety that would ordinarily cause her to shut down completely.
“It’s a benefit of the control I have,” JD explained. “Our emotions are nominally separate, but the process of communicating with you and accessing your memories involves passing on a part of my mental state into yours. So even if you are - as you think of yourself - a neurotic shut-in, you have enough of me in you right now to make the experience bearable.”
Judy marvelled in a mix of amazement and concern at the implications of what she had just heard herself say. She had truly passed the point of no return, now: A stranger was wearing her body, indirectly controlling her mind and all she could do for the next six hours was watch.
The loss of control was - if anything - a relief, and Judy found herself feeling strangely optimistic about the night ahead.
Her reflection grinned back at her.
“Let’s get ready then, shall we?”
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Matt stumbles upon a ring that lets him possess people.
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
Heavily inspired by the writing.com story The Possession Spell, but nerfed so the one with the power isn't in absolute control of everything.
My name's Matt. That day was meant to be just another day.. but it turned very weird, and very interesting.
It would have been about 5pm when I walked into my apartment. It was convenient, since it was close enough to college, yet wasn't super expensive or loud. Plus I could walk to all the fun parties.
Anyway, I walked in to see my girlfriend, Mira, sitting on the couch. I always thought she was cute in an exotic way - she was short, petite, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She was half Japanese, which is why I think I found her so attractive. Today, she was looking at me in a very unusual way. Not like her at all.
"Hey... Matt" she said hesitantly. Oh shit, I thought. Was she breaking up with me?
"Hi?" I said carefully.
"So I have something to tell you..." Shit. It's really happening. I think she saw the look on my face, and quickly added "Oh no don't worry, nothing is wrong. We're still good. It's just... this is so weird."
Relieved, I approached her and noticed she was wearing a ring. She never wore jewelry like that. "So, nice ring..." I said.
"Yeah that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually..." she started, getting up and walking over to me. I walked closer and took her hand. She flinched as I began to examine the ring, still on her finger. As I went to pull it off... "No!"
The ring was half off, and I felt a force - not unlike a blast of wind - hit me. "Fine!" I slipped the ring back on... and blacked out.
---
I awoke in bed a short while later. Mira was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with what appeared to be the ring she had been wearing.
"Ugh, what happened?" I asked, feeling a trace of a headache.
"Oh, you're up. I have to tell you something..." Mira said. "It's this ring. It's... magic or something."
"Huh?" I asked.
"Yeah. When you walked in... that wasn't actually me. Well it was... but not quite." I was confused, so I just let her continue. "This ring lets someone take over someone else's body..."
"Sure it does." I joked.
"I'm serious!" Mira insisted. "I walked into your apartment maybe 10 minutes before you were meant to be home. Then I blacked out. When I came to... I was you."
"So is that why I blacked out?" I asked.
"Probably. I gotta say it was a shock for sure. That and Alan was on the couch and looked pretty scared. He explained everything though.
"Alan was... wait was that him inside you?" The pieces were coming together.
"Yeah. But he didn't do anything. He said he had only just found the ring today, and was gonna show you. But I walked in first and..."
"He took over your body."
"Yup" she said.
"So... how did it feel?" I asked. "Being me?"
"Well I honestly was just freaked, so I took the ring off as soon as I got to your bed. That kicked me right out." A grin formed on Mira's face. "Let me tell you, though."
She slipped the ring on, and disappeared from sight. Then, predictably, I blacked out.
---
That time, when I woke up, it was morning. I also felt... like I had just jerked off.
"Good morning!" Mira said as she walked out of the bathroom. She seemed in a very good mood.
"Uhh... morning?" I said.
"So I have an answer for you." Mira said while grinning. "Being you was hot!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well I jumped into your body last night, took a nice long shower... if you know what I mean, hope you don't mind. Then I went to sleep, and went for another round in the morning." She explained, grin not letting up. "Gotta day it felt a lot different than it usually does for me..."
I was shocked. Taking advantage of this, she winked. "Well I have to go now... you're still coming over tonight, aren't you?" Then she waved and skipped out of my room.
"Huh..." I said, still processing what had just happened. I didn't mind so much since it was Mira, and - I mean - we'd done plenty together already.
I was taken out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I called out, and saw Alan meekly walk in.
"Hey man..." he started.
"This about the ring?" I asked, hiding some irritation.
"Yeah... look, I'm sorry I took over Mira. But it was an accident... and it was only for a couple of minutes." He really did look sorry.
"Well all's well I guess.. but she left with the ring.
"She what?" Alan cried out.
"Yeah. I'm going to her place later, but she had plans for the rest of the day."
Alan continued to complain, but eventually gave up. The whole day was spent in anticipation. I'd never really wondered about how it feels for girls, but I couldn't help but be a little curious now that the opportunity might be there.
---
Later that evening, I pulled up to Mira's place and rang the doorbell. It opened and I was greeted by her busty roommate Alison, blonde hair wet, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe.
"Hi sexy..." she purred, moving in such a way that only made it obvious that she was naked under her robe - not that it was hidden before.
"Uh.. hi Ali." I stammered. "Sorry... I'm here to see Mira."
"Mira isn't here..." she purred, exposing one long leg through the robe, "but I'll happily take care of you instead..."
I felt my face flush red, and attempted to navigate around Alison and get to Mira's room. She grabbed my hand with hers, and I noticed a sparkle on her hand. The ring.
"Should have guessed it was you, Mira" I said.
Alison's demeanor shifted instantly, and she started laughing. "You should have seen your face... you were so adorably awkward!"
"You expected otherwise?"
"Well no... I've just been inside Ali all day today, just lounging around. Thought I'd have some fun with you first." Mira-in-Alison explained.
"So was that it?" I asked. Mira laughed and not-so-subtly let the robe slip off her borrowed figure and down to the floor. I stared at Alison's exposed chest for a second before I was dragged into her bedroom.
Alison's body was very different from Mira's - she was tall, blonde, curvy, while Mira was short and petite. Needless to say, when Mira was in control of Alison's body, sex was fucking awesome. I won't go into detail, but knowing that my Mira was inside her sexy (ok. I admit it) roommate just made it even better. After we were done, I lay on top of her and just fondled her tits.
"Babe that felt so good in her body..." Mira purred. "And these big boobs feel so nice when you squeeze them like that..."
"It's just hard to believe it's you in there, babe" I replied. "But I sure as hell aren't complaining!" Mira laughed and grinned at me.
"Well now that we've done that I can't leave her right now... want to go for another round?" She winked at me. I felt my dick grow hard at the thought. "Or I could just give you a blowjob..." Mira offered.
Let's just leave it at the fact that the evening was a lot of fun.
---
The next morning, Mira shooed me out of Alison's bed. A couple of minutes after I jumped on Mira's bed, she appeared next to me. As herself this time.
"Whoa, don't scare me like that!" I muttered. She smiled one of her trademark cheeky smiles. "That was fun last night."
"Sure was! Blondes really do have more fun!" She grinned. "Speaking of..." she winked at me, and placed the ring into my hand. I looked at her. "Well, go on! Put it on and go jump into Alison!"
Hardly believing my ears, I slipped on the ring. It was a rush, to be sure. I suddenly felt weightless. Looking down at myself I understood why. I was floating, and completely transparent! I looked around and experimented with my movement. It was surprisingly easy. I leaned in the direction of Alison's room, and floated off.
When I got there (through the walls!) I saw her lying in her bed, dressed in a nightie that she definitely hadn't been wearing at night, and was scrolling on her phone. Well, this was it. I swooped down and lowered my ghostly form over her body. I felt a jarring sensation as a shock went through my whole body. The next thing I knew, I was under a warm blanket, holding a phone.
Of course, I immediately dropped the phone. There was something off about the way I was lying down. Flat on my stomach, back slightly arched. I laid my head on the pillow, and felt something large and soft on my chest. I looked down and saw Alison's voluminous chest inside a soft pink nightie. It was odd seeing her tits from this angle now.
I quickly jumped out of bed, hair flying everywhere and feeling a very big jiggle on my chest. I ran to her closet - there was a mirror there, of course - and admired my reflection.
Looking back at me in the mirror was Mira's roommate Alison. Blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders. A pale pink nightie over her impressively large boobs, which left her midriff exposed. Below that, hot pink panties, and nothing else. The best part? Right now, that was me. I let out a giggle - distinctly feminine, I noted - and sauntered up closer to the mirror. Man, I felt sexy inside Alison's skin. Naturally, my hands went to explore my new body. Although I'd gotten pretty familiar with it last night, this was very different. This time it was me, and I was feeling all the foreign sensations from my feminine body as my own. And damn, was it hot!
I let out a slight moan as my new hands caressed my new body. I had to say, it definitely felt a lot better feeling up Alison from inside than from when I was myself. As I reached into Alison's - ahem, my panties - there was a knock at the door, followed by Mira walking in. She saw what I was doing, blushed a little, then recovered.
"I see you're having fun there, babe" she smirked.
"I uh... ah..." I stuttered, and Mira laughed.
"Oh relax! It's not like I didn't do the same in your body. This time I just get to watch it happen to someone else!" she winked at me. "Want some help, Alison?"
I gulped and nodded. Mira came over and ran a hand along my exposed stomach. "You know I'm not normally into chicks, but knowing it's my boyfriend inside there is making me so hot for you right now..." she purred and leaned in for a kiss. Her hand slipped into those same pink panties I had been trying to explore earlier...
All I had to say was wow. Either it was just that the female body felt so good, or just my own arousal, or Mira... whatever it was, that was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Not to mention all the new feelings I got to experience from inside Alison's body.
---
A few hours later, after the high of my orgasms inside Alison had worn off, I exited her body and re-formed back on Mira's bed, with her grinning. "That was fucking amazing!" I said, also grinning.
"Oh I could tell you liked it, babe. I heard..." Mira taunted. "I bet Alan misses this thing..."
"I sure would if I were him!" I said. "But I'm not sure I want to give it up!"
"Tell you what..." Mira said. Then she told me about a plan she had. I put on the ring again, and disappeared.
---
To be continued...
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The opening couple of scenes for a slice-of-life stealth control story featuring a group of college friends. In this opening, Luna & Alphonse experiment with the technology with each other for the first time, and Luna is quite a bit bolder with it that Alphonse. It is largely ftm, from the male third person perspective.
The chilly air of Alphonse's dorm room was cut by the soft humming of a high end laptop, built more for specs than style. Alphonse himself sat hunched over, squinting at the glow of the screen in the darkness. The page he had stumbled upon was unlike anything he’d seen before, its dark background and neon lines carrying an aura of the illicit.
Or at least, an aura of a programmer who used dark mode, which was always a good sign.
It was late - late enough that his roommate Quincy was out on the town, courting danger or a damsel (or both). Alphonse sighed, running a hand through his mousy brown hair as he considered the proposition before him: a chance to buy into the surreal, the impossible.
Stealth Control Nanobots™
They were the stuff of whispered rumours and online conspiracy theories. The government had banned the technology long ago, citing concerns over privacy, consent, and potential for abuse. Concerns that were well founded. Even though the tech had never reached the mainstream, and was tightly controlled for government use only, there were still regular stories of leaks. It seemed like every few months some starlet would seem to lose her mind, and go masturbate in public, or dance nude on a balcony.
Stealth control was always blamed, and tighter controls always followed. Alphonse wondered how many of these cases were real – and how many times a drugged up rock star would just blame their latest bender on stealth control. “It wasn’t me! It was just my body!”
Still, if they were real… well, basic logic would dictate for every case you heard about, there were probably hundreds of people being controlled in ways that weren’t overt enough to make the news.
And if that were true, then maybe you could just buy a vial of the stuff from a random Russian IP address.
Alphonse knew he was talking himself into it.
His mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button, his heart pounding. He looked at the reviews again: users swearing up and down that the tech was real, functional, and life-altering. A few death threats to the seller. Someone asking how to exit vim. It seemed legitimate enough…
A mental image of Luna filled his mind, her dark goth aesthetic barely containing her wild exuberance. What would it be like to be her? His pulse quickened at the thought of experiencing her world, of seeing the universe through her eyes. It was such an intimate thought that he felt a pang of guilt immediately. Yet, there was a small part of him that yearned for that intimacy, a desire fueled by a confusing amalgam of curiosity, love, and the heady promise of forbidden… …science.
Maybe, if he controlled her, he could plant the idea in her mind that they should date… “incept” it, if you will. Alphonse rolled his eyes.
His sister Christina's warnings echoed in his mind. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should." She would definitely disapprove of his current predicament.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a notification beeped. A text from Quincy: "Bro, where you at? Rosa and Luna asking for you at the Fox's Den." His heartbeat quickened again. Luna was asking for him?
The weight of the decision weighed heavy on his heart. He was no womaniser like Quincy, no social butterfly like Rosa. He was Alphonse, the bassist in the band, the nerd in the corner, the one who was always observing, dreaming… not doing. This technology, dangerous and alluring as it was, could be his chance to connect, to understand, to be a part of something bigger.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hands trembling as he clicked 'Buy Now'. The screen confirmed his purchase, and the weight seemed to lift a little, replaced with a heady blend of exhilaration and anxiety.
He hastily shut his laptop, grabbed his bass, and left the dorm room. Tonight, he was going to enjoy his regular life. Tomorrow, he thought, with a mix of excitement and fear, everything could change. He could change. He only hoped that the price wouldn't be too high.
________________________________
A week later Alphonse and Luna sat in that same dorm room, staring at a non-descript metal box. It had arrived that morning.
Alphonse, tall and gangly, was hunched over it. His fingers tapped on the plain surface, a thumb running over the embossed logo of a butterfly - a suitable symbol for a box of Stealth Control Nanobots™, he thought.
Luna, wearing her habitual black skinny jeans and band tee, watched Alphonse with a barely contained excitement in her emerald eyes. It was a look that Alphonse knew too well, and it always made his heart stumble and his palms dampen. How was it possible that she would even want to hang out with him, when she was so damn cool, and he… well, he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wondered if she noticed his pulse thundering in his throat, betraying his nervousness.
"Alphonse, stop stalling," she teased, playfully punching his arm. He winced, more from the contact than any supposed pain, but he allowed a hesitant smile. "I want to see what they look like!"
He opened up the box with a click. Inside lay rows of vials, each containing a small amount of silvery liquid. They were tiny, barely a few millilitres, and yet they held the power to wrestle control from the mind of one and place it into the hands of another.
“Huh, smaller than I thought”, said Luna. She picked one up, and he winced at the sacrilege. “Ready to give it a go?”
A ripple of unease traversed Alphonse's spine as he carefully picked up one of his own. He looked down at Luna and found himself wondering what it would be like to be her. Her dainty hands fiddled with the vial impatiently, the pale skin and black painted nails looking ghostly against the silvery vial. Was he really about to have a turn controlling those hands?
He looked down at himself. Large. Kinda gangly. Not unfit, just, like his limbs didn’t quite sit right. Would she even want a turn controlling him? Would he let her? Immeasurably powerful tiny little robots were about to float across his blood brain barrier, attach themselves to his neurons, and force them to fire in a pattern that matched the one in Luna’s brain – at least, as far as sensation and movement were concerned.
He shivered. Then he thought of Luna – lively, unpredictable Luna – wielding that power over him and shivered again, and not just from fear. He could feel a stirring beginning in his pants. That might be an awkward one to explain if Luna took a turn using it on him.
"Are you sure about this?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
Luna responded with an impish grin. "You’re not backing out on me, are you! Al, when on earth will we get another chance like this! I want to know what it’s like!"
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous sort of thrill.
"I-I'm- no! Let’s do it!" Alphonse managed, voice steady despite the tumultuous storm of anxiety brewing within him.
Luna raised her vial in the air as if making a toast, then swallowed it in one go. Alphonse hesitated and then drank his as well.
She looked down at herself. “Okay, I don’t feel any different. What now?”
Alphonse swallowed, finding his voice again. "It said that the nanobots in the liquid will make their way to our brains and establish a sort of connection with our neurons." He explained, hands slightly shaking as he held up his own, now empty, vial.
"Once that's done, a small light will flash in our vision, and we'll be able to navigate a basic user interface in our minds. It's like... you know, when you're dreaming, and you're aware that you're dreaming? It's a bit like that. It doesn't intrude on your day-to-day life; it's just there, waiting to be accessed."
Luna's eyebrows furrowed as she took in his explanation, a tinge of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. "And then what?"
"There's an option in the UI," Alphonse continued, gesturing vaguely with his hands, "that lets us select whether to make ourselves 'open' to being controlled by anybody else who's swallowed the nanobots. It's like setting your phone to hotspot. Anyone can connect, provided they have the same kind of nanobots, and are nearby"
“Wait, anyone?” Luna stared at him, silent for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. “I really should have waited before chugging that. Remind me not to leave that setting on! Don’t want me to be taken over by some old perv! Ha!”
Alphonse blushed and nodded.
“Oh, wait, wait! Something’s changed! I saw the flash!”
As she spoke, Alphonse himself saw a brief flash of yellow light pulse in the exact centre of his vision and then fade away. His brain felt different somehow, like there was something else in there with him…
“Okay! I’m trying the UI!” said Luna excitedly.
Alphonse watched as Luna closed her eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her. She was so beautiful! Fierce, fearless… cute. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lips forming a small 'o' as if she was exercising a muscle that she had never used before.
A moment later, her eyes sprang open. "I did it!" she announced, grinning wide enough to light up the room. "I set it to 'open', Al!"
She threw her arms wide. “I’m open!”
Alphonse nearly choked on his saliva. Did she know what she was doing to him? How turned on he was? His dick throbbed in his pants, and he tried to adjust as subtly as he could. “Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep.” he thought to himself. “Don’t do it!”
"A-alright," he stuttered, his fingers nervously entwining together in his lap. He concentrated on his own UI, bringing forth that odd feeling that was layered behind his thoughts. It was a surreal feeling, like reaching out for a dream and finding it solid under your touch.
Navigating the interface was strange, like trying to control an extra limb that he'd never noticed before. He squinted, a line of concentration forming between his brows as he looked for Luna in his mind's eye. And there she was, a clear node of light, pulsating softly, inviting him in. Open. Ready for him.
"Are you sure about this, Luna?" he asked, his voice a threadbare whisper.
"Absolutely!" she replied, the excitement in her voice doing little to calm his racing heart. "Now, come on! Try controlling me!"
Alphonse took a deep breath, readying himself for the plunge, then reached out to that pulsing light. The world shifted, tilted, and for a moment he was standing on the edge of an abyss, a strange sense of anticipation and terror swirling within him.
And then, he fell.
Into her.
___________________________________
The sensation of falling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a jolting sense of weightlessness – it was like he was passing through something, a layer, a boundary that held his own self distinct from Luna's. Like rising up from deep underwater, feeling the changing sensations as the water changed temperature and the light got brighter… and then he landed!
Alphonse jolted and gasped. He was here! He was inside Luna! His mind stuttered at the realisation, his thoughts becoming a chaotic whirlpool. The interface was still there, a pressure at the edge of his perception, giving him a semblance of stability.
He heard a soft thud as his own body slumped to the floor across from him. What the hell…
His floating mind seemed to settle a little bit, the sensations becoming less fuzzy, more distinct. He looked down, Luna's hands were smaller, softer than his. Her nails, painted a deep black, looked stark against the pale complexion of her skin. He clenched and unclenched the delicate fingers, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the fragility of her slender bones beneath.
He looked around the room. The world seemed sharper, clearer, as if he was seeing through a camera lens. He knew Luna wore glasses for reading, but her natural eyesight seemed to be so much better than his. Colours were brighter, shapes more distinct.
The strangest feeling, however, was the raw sensation of being in a female body. It was an uncanny mix of familiarity and strangeness. The contours of her body were alien to him, the slight swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. It was like he had been handed a new instrument and was expected to play without any practice.
He glanced down for a second, and caught a glimpse of his new breasts inside his shirt, held by a plain black bra. He jolted his head back up as if burned.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep!
Instead, Alphonse slowly and deliberately lifted his -- Luna's -- hand to his face. Smooth, soft. His fingers traced over the foreign features, feeling the curve of her cheekbones, the button-like softness of her nose, the plumpness of her lips. Her nose felt particularly different. It was smaller and flatter than his own, and, strangely, easier to breathe through.
His heart was beating like a war drum in his tiny chest as he slowly lowered his hand again, careful not to touch anything inappropriate. That thought brought his mind to the body below him, hidden beneath his clothes. He had tits on his chest. Luna’s tits. A warmth spread through his nether region, and a very strange sensation of a wetness appearing in his underwear. A wetness… He had a vagina! He, Alphonse, could feel Luna’s vagina. Involuntarily, he felt it pulse at the thought, a wave of foreign pleasure spreading up through him.
Oh god, oh god. Could she tell? Surely she could tell. She was supposed to be aware of everything. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d blown it!
His breathing increased, his heart pounded. He felt his new face flush, and his fingers began to lightly tingle. He needed to get out! Out out out! Something instinctual kicked in within him and he found himself reaching out with that mental limb, that construct of a UI, and somehow managed to force himself out of the body. He felt like he was swimming upward, through currents and waves pushing him back down, upward and upward towards the light, his body going numb, his senses a dull ringing!
With a jolt, Alphonse found himself laying on his back.
The sudden sensation of returning to his own body was a shock in and of itself, like being thrust into ice-cold water. His senses scrambled to readjust, vertigo swooping through him like a bird of prey. The ceiling spun above him, a hazy whirl of colours before it gradually settled into the familiar sight.
He blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. His hands, rougher and larger, lay on his stomach. He was back in his body.
Sitting up, Alphonse drew in a shuddering breath. From across the room, Luna began to laugh, a sound as clear and bright as the sun. "Holy shit, Alphonse! Did you really control me?"
Her eyes were shining with excitement as she sat up. Her fingers brushed back the hair from her face, her movements noticeably more fluid and familiar than when Alphonse was in charge.
“Um”, said Alphonse, “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Al! This is amazing!” she looked down at herself, then she grabbed her boobs through her shirt and jiggled them up and down. “It’s so weird. I felt like I really wanted to do this a few moments ago, but couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Being controlled by this thing is wild!”
“Oh… um…” Alphonse stammered. “I- uh- I didn’t do anything! I was decent!”
“Yeah, yeah I know!” said Luna with a laugh. “I was getting so horny though. It must have been really strange for you to feel me getting horny while you were in control. Sorry about that!”
“Um, yeah, it was odd.” Alphonse said, blushing.
“Wait! You were in control! I didn’t get horny! You did!” Luna cackled like a madman. “Oh my god that’s so much worse. You made me horny!”
Alphonse buried his head in his hands, but he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he always assumed Luna would act way more… normal… then she did.
Luna bounced on the spot, her face ablaze with excitement, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she examined her own hands. "You know what's crazy? I was fully aware. I knew what I was doing, how I was moving… I felt like I was doing everything myself!" She tilted her head back, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling in wonderment. "But like, I knew that I wasn’t? I saw you fall back, I knew I was acting unnatural, but it was just… it felt so normal!! Al, this stuff is incredible. If I didn’t know I was going to be controlled, there is no way I’d be able to tell."
Alphonse watched her, his own thoughts a jumble of emotions. Awe, curiosity, apprehension, guilt...
"Did you... um, did you feel uncomfortable?" he asked tentatively, his gaze dropping to his own lap.
Luna let out a bark of laughter. "Uncomfortable? No! It was insane! Good insane! Sort of like... you know when you're in a dream, and you're just kind of going along with it because dream logic?"
Alphonse nodded, an uneasy chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense..."
“You made me feel so awkward!” Luna chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “When I was trying not to look at my boobs, I felt like a naughty school girl caught kissing in the locker room. If you wanted to see them that bad, you could have just asked.” she winked at him, and Alphonse felt himself turning a deep red and his previously subsiding erection shot back up. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Anyway! My turn now!”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes! I want a turn! It’s only fair - you got to be me.”
Alphonse cringed. One part of him desperately wanted Luna to experience being him, and he was scared and turned on at the idea of being controlled by his crush. Another part of him was aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and the fact that Luna would know.
“Hurry up! I can’t see you yet!” Luna called out, her eyes squeezed shut as she navigated the ghostly UI.
Fuck it.
Alphonse reached out with that strange new part of his mind, and found the right settling. A strange sensation went through his body as he flipped it from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. There he was. Totally exposed.
“Okay, I’m-”
He stopped talking and looked down at himself. What would it feel like to be controlled? Nearby, Luna’s body slumped to the ground.
“Wow, you were really excited!” he said to himself as he reached down to adjust his erection. It seemed to grow three times harder as he tried to adjust it, not quite getting the usual knack right.
“Do you mind?” he said, and began undoing his belt.
Some part of him cringed for a moment. He really shouldn’t undress with Luna right there. She literally just needed to turn her head a little, and she’d see him exposing himself right in front of her!
Wait a minute…
Alphonse tried to say something to Luna, to ask if she had remote accessed his nanobots, but some part of him decided against it. Best not to disturb her.
Best… not to disturb her? What the hell?
He was being controlled, wasn’t he?
It didn’t feel like it. He stared down at his hands as they worked his belt and buttons. It felt like he was just taking off his pants. But… Luna was passed out, he’d set his nanobots to receive the connection, and they had literally just agreed to have her control him.
Even knowing all of that, Alphonse didn’t believe it in his bones.
“Wow, these things really are powerful”, he thought.
He finally got the buckle undone and ripped his pants down, his erect dick catching a bit as he yanked them roughly. He stared at it. Average size, average width. Hard as a nail. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
Hey wait, if he was being controlled by Luna right now, did that mean she was feeling turned on too?
He reached down to feel it in his hands, gently running his fingers along the length of his shaft, and lightly squeezing the end. It felt amazing.
Not just feeling turned on too, she was turning him on. If Alphonse was being controlled, then this wasn’t really his erection! It was hers!
He wanted to chuckle at that thought, but decided not to.
He reached a little lower and cupped his balls, lightly lifting them with his hand and feeling how they responded. He gave them a little slap and felt them jiggle.
“Hah, that’s not so bad.” he said “I knew guys were exaggerating.”
He flicked one a little harder and- Argh!
A heavy throbbing pain washed over him. The taste of bile appeared in his throat. He doubled over and gasped.
“Ugh. Okay. Okay. Bad idea.”
Still, he was hard. The pain gradually subsided as he played more with his erect dick. He wanted so badly to quickly rub one out, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to get into bed or the bathroom to do it the way he usually would.
Instead, Alphonse reached up to his chest and cupped his pecks through his t-shirt.
“Heh, these certainly beat boobs”, he said. He tapped one, and tried to make them dance by flexing them, but couldn’t quite manage it properly. Then he grabbed his shirt, dug his fingers in hard, and with as much force as he could muster, tore it open right down the middle.
“I always wanted to do that!” he laughed. “I guess I owe you a shirt now.”
Pretty soon his eyes fell upon Luna’s unconscious body, slumped on the ground. He effortlessly picked it up and dumped it on his bed, giggling as he watched her flop around.
“I’m so light! I never realised how easy that was for you!” he laughed again, pushing Luna’s empty head side to side. “I should be a lot less impressed, but you do have some serious muscles for such a serious geek.”
He flexed an arm and looked at it approvingly. Meanwhile, his dick still beckoned.
He found himself biting his lip.
“Now”, he said to himself, “I knoooow how you felt when you were me. And how I felt like I was doing everything. And I don’t want to freak you out. But, this is me in here. This is Luna speaking right now.”
Alphonse tried to force that thought to stay with him. It still didn’t feel like it.
“And that’s my body lying right there.” he continued, “So, I’m going to just go ahead, and, well…”
He looked down at his dick again, which had hardened right back up to full mast. Then, Alphonse found himself climbing on top of the bed… over Luna’s vacant face… and…
Oh, no, he couldn’t do that, could he?
He lined up his dick and gently pushed it into Luna’s mouth.
But it was Luna doing this, right? Luna was controlling him now?
He slowly pushed it inside, passed the teeth, and deep down her throat.
“Hah. No gag reflex!” he laughed.
If Luna was controlling him, did that mean she wanted to give him a blowjob? Or… did she want to get a blowjob?
He began thrusting slowly. It felt… very strange. He was extraordinarily horny, and the idea that Luna was making him do this was hot as fuck, but at the same time, the blowjob kind of sucked.
“I wish I could make my body suck properly!” said Alphonse, frustrated. He readjusted his position, and pushed in deeper. He could feel Luna’s body’s lips pressing right down near the base of his shaft.
Did Luna have a crush on him? Or did this fall under the category of masturbation?
He didn’t have long to think about it because soon, far sooner than he was ready, he felt a familiar barrier get crossed, and his load spurted out into Luna’s throat and over her face. The orgasm was a surprisingly disappointing one, all things considered.
“Gah!” he said. “That can’t be it!”
He kept thrusting, but his dick quickly became soft and uncomfortably sensitive against Luna’s teeth. He sighed.
“That was definitely an experience. Thanks Alphonse.”
He wanted to collapse down onto the bed and fall asleep, but instead he found himself climbing off of Luna. Without bothering to get dressed, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up her face a bit.
“Might as well do this before heading back!”
And with that, he lay down on the floor, still naked below the waist, and-
“What the hell…” muttered Alphonse. Nearby, Luna pushed herself up, gagging slightly.
“Ugh, that is not very comfortable on this end.” she coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“That was… did you really control me?” Alphonse asked.
“Na-dar. Looking good by the way.” she smirked.
Alphonse glanced down and then sat up with a start. Apparently he’d- she’d- forgotten to put his pants back on. He quickly covered himself up, blushing.
“That was the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life.” he said.
“Maybe third, for me” Luna laughed. “Hey, sorry for really jumping into it, I just… ah, I dunno, you felt the same things right?”
Alphonse nodded, blushing. “It felt like I was the one doing everything.”
“I know right!” Luna smiled down at him. “I think we need to bring the others in on this.”
“Really?”
“Ye-huh. Tomorrow night. I’ve got a game in mind.”
Luna picked up her bag.
“I really need a shower after all of that. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And with that, she left. Alphonse flopped back down and sighed. What he just unleashed?
The chilly air of Alphonse's dorm room was cut by the soft humming of a high end laptop, built more for specs than style. Alphonse himself sat hunched over, squinting at the glow of the screen in the darkness. The page he had stumbled upon was unlike anything he’d seen before, its dark background and neon lines carrying an aura of the illicit.
Or at least, an aura of a programmer who used dark mode, which was always a good sign.
It was late - late enough that his roommate Quincy was out on the town, courting danger or a damsel (or both). Alphonse sighed, running a hand through his mousy brown hair as he considered the proposition before him: a chance to buy into the surreal, the impossible.
Stealth Control Nanobots™
They were the stuff of whispered rumours and online conspiracy theories. The government had banned the technology long ago, citing concerns over privacy, consent, and potential for abuse. Concerns that were well founded. Even though the tech had never reached the mainstream, and was tightly controlled for government use only, there were still regular stories of leaks. It seemed like every few months some starlet would seem to lose her mind, and go masturbate in public, or dance nude on a balcony.
Stealth control was always blamed, and tighter controls always followed. Alphonse wondered how many of these cases were real – and how many times a drugged up rock star would just blame their latest bender on stealth control. “It wasn’t me! It was just my body!”
Still, if they were real… well, basic logic would dictate for every case you heard about, there were probably hundreds of people being controlled in ways that weren’t overt enough to make the news.
And if that were true, then maybe you could just buy a vial of the stuff from a random Russian IP address.
Alphonse knew he was talking himself into it.
His mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button, his heart pounding. He looked at the reviews again: users swearing up and down that the tech was real, functional, and life-altering. A few death threats to the seller. Someone asking how to exit vim. It seemed legitimate enough…
A mental image of Luna filled his mind, her dark goth aesthetic barely containing her wild exuberance. What would it be like to be her? His pulse quickened at the thought of experiencing her world, of seeing the universe through her eyes. It was such an intimate thought that he felt a pang of guilt immediately. Yet, there was a small part of him that yearned for that intimacy, a desire fueled by a confusing amalgam of curiosity, love, and the heady promise of forbidden… …science.
Maybe, if he controlled her, he could plant the idea in her mind that they should date… “incept” it, if you will. Alphonse rolled his eyes.
His sister Christina's warnings echoed in his mind. "Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should." She would definitely disapprove of his current predicament.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a notification beeped. A text from Quincy: "Bro, where you at? Rosa and Luna asking for you at the Fox's Den." His heartbeat quickened again. Luna was asking for him?
The weight of the decision weighed heavy on his heart. He was no womaniser like Quincy, no social butterfly like Rosa. He was Alphonse, the bassist in the band, the nerd in the corner, the one who was always observing, dreaming… not doing. This technology, dangerous and alluring as it was, could be his chance to connect, to understand, to be a part of something bigger.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hands trembling as he clicked 'Buy Now'. The screen confirmed his purchase, and the weight seemed to lift a little, replaced with a heady blend of exhilaration and anxiety.
He hastily shut his laptop, grabbed his bass, and left the dorm room. Tonight, he was going to enjoy his regular life. Tomorrow, he thought, with a mix of excitement and fear, everything could change. He could change. He only hoped that the price wouldn't be too high.
________________________________
A week later Alphonse and Luna sat in that same dorm room, staring at a non-descript metal box. It had arrived that morning.
Alphonse, tall and gangly, was hunched over it. His fingers tapped on the plain surface, a thumb running over the embossed logo of a butterfly - a suitable symbol for a box of Stealth Control Nanobots™, he thought.
Luna, wearing her habitual black skinny jeans and band tee, watched Alphonse with a barely contained excitement in her emerald eyes. It was a look that Alphonse knew too well, and it always made his heart stumble and his palms dampen. How was it possible that she would even want to hang out with him, when she was so damn cool, and he… well, he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. He wondered if she noticed his pulse thundering in his throat, betraying his nervousness.
"Alphonse, stop stalling," she teased, playfully punching his arm. He winced, more from the contact than any supposed pain, but he allowed a hesitant smile. "I want to see what they look like!"
He opened up the box with a click. Inside lay rows of vials, each containing a small amount of silvery liquid. They were tiny, barely a few millilitres, and yet they held the power to wrestle control from the mind of one and place it into the hands of another.
“Huh, smaller than I thought”, said Luna. She picked one up, and he winced at the sacrilege. “Ready to give it a go?”
A ripple of unease traversed Alphonse's spine as he carefully picked up one of his own. He looked down at Luna and found himself wondering what it would be like to be her. Her dainty hands fiddled with the vial impatiently, the pale skin and black painted nails looking ghostly against the silvery vial. Was he really about to have a turn controlling those hands?
He looked down at himself. Large. Kinda gangly. Not unfit, just, like his limbs didn’t quite sit right. Would she even want a turn controlling him? Would he let her? Immeasurably powerful tiny little robots were about to float across his blood brain barrier, attach themselves to his neurons, and force them to fire in a pattern that matched the one in Luna’s brain – at least, as far as sensation and movement were concerned.
He shivered. Then he thought of Luna – lively, unpredictable Luna – wielding that power over him and shivered again, and not just from fear. He could feel a stirring beginning in his pants. That might be an awkward one to explain if Luna took a turn using it on him.
"Are you sure about this?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
Luna responded with an impish grin. "You’re not backing out on me, are you! Al, when on earth will we get another chance like this! I want to know what it’s like!"
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous sort of thrill.
"I-I'm- no! Let’s do it!" Alphonse managed, voice steady despite the tumultuous storm of anxiety brewing within him.
Luna raised her vial in the air as if making a toast, then swallowed it in one go. Alphonse hesitated and then drank his as well.
She looked down at herself. “Okay, I don’t feel any different. What now?”
Alphonse swallowed, finding his voice again. "It said that the nanobots in the liquid will make their way to our brains and establish a sort of connection with our neurons." He explained, hands slightly shaking as he held up his own, now empty, vial.
"Once that's done, a small light will flash in our vision, and we'll be able to navigate a basic user interface in our minds. It's like... you know, when you're dreaming, and you're aware that you're dreaming? It's a bit like that. It doesn't intrude on your day-to-day life; it's just there, waiting to be accessed."
Luna's eyebrows furrowed as she took in his explanation, a tinge of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. "And then what?"
"There's an option in the UI," Alphonse continued, gesturing vaguely with his hands, "that lets us select whether to make ourselves 'open' to being controlled by anybody else who's swallowed the nanobots. It's like setting your phone to hotspot. Anyone can connect, provided they have the same kind of nanobots, and are nearby"
“Wait, anyone?” Luna stared at him, silent for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. “I really should have waited before chugging that. Remind me not to leave that setting on! Don’t want me to be taken over by some old perv! Ha!”
Alphonse blushed and nodded.
“Oh, wait, wait! Something’s changed! I saw the flash!”
As she spoke, Alphonse himself saw a brief flash of yellow light pulse in the exact centre of his vision and then fade away. His brain felt different somehow, like there was something else in there with him…
“Okay! I’m trying the UI!” said Luna excitedly.
Alphonse watched as Luna closed her eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her. She was so beautiful! Fierce, fearless… cute. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lips forming a small 'o' as if she was exercising a muscle that she had never used before.
A moment later, her eyes sprang open. "I did it!" she announced, grinning wide enough to light up the room. "I set it to 'open', Al!"
She threw her arms wide. “I’m open!”
Alphonse nearly choked on his saliva. Did she know what she was doing to him? How turned on he was? His dick throbbed in his pants, and he tried to adjust as subtly as he could. “Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep.” he thought to himself. “Don’t do it!”
"A-alright," he stuttered, his fingers nervously entwining together in his lap. He concentrated on his own UI, bringing forth that odd feeling that was layered behind his thoughts. It was a surreal feeling, like reaching out for a dream and finding it solid under your touch.
Navigating the interface was strange, like trying to control an extra limb that he'd never noticed before. He squinted, a line of concentration forming between his brows as he looked for Luna in his mind's eye. And there she was, a clear node of light, pulsating softly, inviting him in. Open. Ready for him.
"Are you sure about this, Luna?" he asked, his voice a threadbare whisper.
"Absolutely!" she replied, the excitement in her voice doing little to calm his racing heart. "Now, come on! Try controlling me!"
Alphonse took a deep breath, readying himself for the plunge, then reached out to that pulsing light. The world shifted, tilted, and for a moment he was standing on the edge of an abyss, a strange sense of anticipation and terror swirling within him.
And then, he fell.
Into her.
___________________________________
The sensation of falling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a jolting sense of weightlessness – it was like he was passing through something, a layer, a boundary that held his own self distinct from Luna's. Like rising up from deep underwater, feeling the changing sensations as the water changed temperature and the light got brighter… and then he landed!
Alphonse jolted and gasped. He was here! He was inside Luna! His mind stuttered at the realisation, his thoughts becoming a chaotic whirlpool. The interface was still there, a pressure at the edge of his perception, giving him a semblance of stability.
He heard a soft thud as his own body slumped to the floor across from him. What the hell…
His floating mind seemed to settle a little bit, the sensations becoming less fuzzy, more distinct. He looked down, Luna's hands were smaller, softer than his. Her nails, painted a deep black, looked stark against the pale complexion of her skin. He clenched and unclenched the delicate fingers, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the fragility of her slender bones beneath.
He looked around the room. The world seemed sharper, clearer, as if he was seeing through a camera lens. He knew Luna wore glasses for reading, but her natural eyesight seemed to be so much better than his. Colours were brighter, shapes more distinct.
The strangest feeling, however, was the raw sensation of being in a female body. It was an uncanny mix of familiarity and strangeness. The contours of her body were alien to him, the slight swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. It was like he had been handed a new instrument and was expected to play without any practice.
He glanced down for a second, and caught a glimpse of his new breasts inside his shirt, held by a plain black bra. He jolted his head back up as if burned.
Don’t be a creep, don’t be a creep!
Instead, Alphonse slowly and deliberately lifted his -- Luna's -- hand to his face. Smooth, soft. His fingers traced over the foreign features, feeling the curve of her cheekbones, the button-like softness of her nose, the plumpness of her lips. Her nose felt particularly different. It was smaller and flatter than his own, and, strangely, easier to breathe through.
His heart was beating like a war drum in his tiny chest as he slowly lowered his hand again, careful not to touch anything inappropriate. That thought brought his mind to the body below him, hidden beneath his clothes. He had tits on his chest. Luna’s tits. A warmth spread through his nether region, and a very strange sensation of a wetness appearing in his underwear. A wetness… He had a vagina! He, Alphonse, could feel Luna’s vagina. Involuntarily, he felt it pulse at the thought, a wave of foreign pleasure spreading up through him.
Oh god, oh god. Could she tell? Surely she could tell. She was supposed to be aware of everything. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d blown it!
His breathing increased, his heart pounded. He felt his new face flush, and his fingers began to lightly tingle. He needed to get out! Out out out! Something instinctual kicked in within him and he found himself reaching out with that mental limb, that construct of a UI, and somehow managed to force himself out of the body. He felt like he was swimming upward, through currents and waves pushing him back down, upward and upward towards the light, his body going numb, his senses a dull ringing!
With a jolt, Alphonse found himself laying on his back.
The sudden sensation of returning to his own body was a shock in and of itself, like being thrust into ice-cold water. His senses scrambled to readjust, vertigo swooping through him like a bird of prey. The ceiling spun above him, a hazy whirl of colours before it gradually settled into the familiar sight.
He blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. His hands, rougher and larger, lay on his stomach. He was back in his body.
Sitting up, Alphonse drew in a shuddering breath. From across the room, Luna began to laugh, a sound as clear and bright as the sun. "Holy shit, Alphonse! Did you really control me?"
Her eyes were shining with excitement as she sat up. Her fingers brushed back the hair from her face, her movements noticeably more fluid and familiar than when Alphonse was in charge.
“Um”, said Alphonse, “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Al! This is amazing!” she looked down at herself, then she grabbed her boobs through her shirt and jiggled them up and down. “It’s so weird. I felt like I really wanted to do this a few moments ago, but couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Being controlled by this thing is wild!”
“Oh… um…” Alphonse stammered. “I- uh- I didn’t do anything! I was decent!”
“Yeah, yeah I know!” said Luna with a laugh. “I was getting so horny though. It must have been really strange for you to feel me getting horny while you were in control. Sorry about that!”
“Um, yeah, it was odd.” Alphonse said, blushing.
“Wait! You were in control! I didn’t get horny! You did!” Luna cackled like a madman. “Oh my god that’s so much worse. You made me horny!”
Alphonse buried his head in his hands, but he couldn’t help but smile. Somehow he always assumed Luna would act way more… normal… then she did.
Luna bounced on the spot, her face ablaze with excitement, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she examined her own hands. "You know what's crazy? I was fully aware. I knew what I was doing, how I was moving… I felt like I was doing everything myself!" She tilted her head back, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling in wonderment. "But like, I knew that I wasn’t? I saw you fall back, I knew I was acting unnatural, but it was just… it felt so normal!! Al, this stuff is incredible. If I didn’t know I was going to be controlled, there is no way I’d be able to tell."
Alphonse watched her, his own thoughts a jumble of emotions. Awe, curiosity, apprehension, guilt...
"Did you... um, did you feel uncomfortable?" he asked tentatively, his gaze dropping to his own lap.
Luna let out a bark of laughter. "Uncomfortable? No! It was insane! Good insane! Sort of like... you know when you're in a dream, and you're just kind of going along with it because dream logic?"
Alphonse nodded, an uneasy chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense..."
“You made me feel so awkward!” Luna chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “When I was trying not to look at my boobs, I felt like a naughty school girl caught kissing in the locker room. If you wanted to see them that bad, you could have just asked.” she winked at him, and Alphonse felt himself turning a deep red and his previously subsiding erection shot back up. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Anyway! My turn now!”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes! I want a turn! It’s only fair - you got to be me.”
Alphonse cringed. One part of him desperately wanted Luna to experience being him, and he was scared and turned on at the idea of being controlled by his crush. Another part of him was aware of the throbbing erection between his legs, and the fact that Luna would know.
“Hurry up! I can’t see you yet!” Luna called out, her eyes squeezed shut as she navigated the ghostly UI.
Fuck it.
Alphonse reached out with that strange new part of his mind, and found the right settling. A strange sensation went through his body as he flipped it from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. There he was. Totally exposed.
“Okay, I’m-”
He stopped talking and looked down at himself. What would it feel like to be controlled? Nearby, Luna’s body slumped to the ground.
“Wow, you were really excited!” he said to himself as he reached down to adjust his erection. It seemed to grow three times harder as he tried to adjust it, not quite getting the usual knack right.
“Do you mind?” he said, and began undoing his belt.
Some part of him cringed for a moment. He really shouldn’t undress with Luna right there. She literally just needed to turn her head a little, and she’d see him exposing himself right in front of her!
Wait a minute…
Alphonse tried to say something to Luna, to ask if she had remote accessed his nanobots, but some part of him decided against it. Best not to disturb her.
Best… not to disturb her? What the hell?
He was being controlled, wasn’t he?
It didn’t feel like it. He stared down at his hands as they worked his belt and buttons. It felt like he was just taking off his pants. But… Luna was passed out, he’d set his nanobots to receive the connection, and they had literally just agreed to have her control him.
Even knowing all of that, Alphonse didn’t believe it in his bones.
“Wow, these things really are powerful”, he thought.
He finally got the buckle undone and ripped his pants down, his erect dick catching a bit as he yanked them roughly. He stared at it. Average size, average width. Hard as a nail. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
Hey wait, if he was being controlled by Luna right now, did that mean she was feeling turned on too?
He reached down to feel it in his hands, gently running his fingers along the length of his shaft, and lightly squeezing the end. It felt amazing.
Not just feeling turned on too, she was turning him on. If Alphonse was being controlled, then this wasn’t really his erection! It was hers!
He wanted to chuckle at that thought, but decided not to.
He reached a little lower and cupped his balls, lightly lifting them with his hand and feeling how they responded. He gave them a little slap and felt them jiggle.
“Hah, that’s not so bad.” he said “I knew guys were exaggerating.”
He flicked one a little harder and- Argh!
A heavy throbbing pain washed over him. The taste of bile appeared in his throat. He doubled over and gasped.
“Ugh. Okay. Okay. Bad idea.”
Still, he was hard. The pain gradually subsided as he played more with his erect dick. He wanted so badly to quickly rub one out, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to get into bed or the bathroom to do it the way he usually would.
Instead, Alphonse reached up to his chest and cupped his pecks through his t-shirt.
“Heh, these certainly beat boobs”, he said. He tapped one, and tried to make them dance by flexing them, but couldn’t quite manage it properly. Then he grabbed his shirt, dug his fingers in hard, and with as much force as he could muster, tore it open right down the middle.
“I always wanted to do that!” he laughed. “I guess I owe you a shirt now.”
Pretty soon his eyes fell upon Luna’s unconscious body, slumped on the ground. He effortlessly picked it up and dumped it on his bed, giggling as he watched her flop around.
“I’m so light! I never realised how easy that was for you!” he laughed again, pushing Luna’s empty head side to side. “I should be a lot less impressed, but you do have some serious muscles for such a serious geek.”
He flexed an arm and looked at it approvingly. Meanwhile, his dick still beckoned.
He found himself biting his lip.
“Now”, he said to himself, “I knoooow how you felt when you were me. And how I felt like I was doing everything. And I don’t want to freak you out. But, this is me in here. This is Luna speaking right now.”
Alphonse tried to force that thought to stay with him. It still didn’t feel like it.
“And that’s my body lying right there.” he continued, “So, I’m going to just go ahead, and, well…”
He looked down at his dick again, which had hardened right back up to full mast. Then, Alphonse found himself climbing on top of the bed… over Luna’s vacant face… and…
Oh, no, he couldn’t do that, could he?
He lined up his dick and gently pushed it into Luna’s mouth.
But it was Luna doing this, right? Luna was controlling him now?
He slowly pushed it inside, passed the teeth, and deep down her throat.
“Hah. No gag reflex!” he laughed.
If Luna was controlling him, did that mean she wanted to give him a blowjob? Or… did she want to get a blowjob?
He began thrusting slowly. It felt… very strange. He was extraordinarily horny, and the idea that Luna was making him do this was hot as fuck, but at the same time, the blowjob kind of sucked.
“I wish I could make my body suck properly!” said Alphonse, frustrated. He readjusted his position, and pushed in deeper. He could feel Luna’s body’s lips pressing right down near the base of his shaft.
Did Luna have a crush on him? Or did this fall under the category of masturbation?
He didn’t have long to think about it because soon, far sooner than he was ready, he felt a familiar barrier get crossed, and his load spurted out into Luna’s throat and over her face. The orgasm was a surprisingly disappointing one, all things considered.
“Gah!” he said. “That can’t be it!”
He kept thrusting, but his dick quickly became soft and uncomfortably sensitive against Luna’s teeth. He sighed.
“That was definitely an experience. Thanks Alphonse.”
He wanted to collapse down onto the bed and fall asleep, but instead he found himself climbing off of Luna. Without bothering to get dressed, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned up her face a bit.
“Might as well do this before heading back!”
And with that, he lay down on the floor, still naked below the waist, and-
“What the hell…” muttered Alphonse. Nearby, Luna pushed herself up, gagging slightly.
“Ugh, that is not very comfortable on this end.” she coughed. “Do you have any water?”
“That was… did you really control me?” Alphonse asked.
“Na-dar. Looking good by the way.” she smirked.
Alphonse glanced down and then sat up with a start. Apparently he’d- she’d- forgotten to put his pants back on. He quickly covered himself up, blushing.
“That was the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life.” he said.
“Maybe third, for me” Luna laughed. “Hey, sorry for really jumping into it, I just… ah, I dunno, you felt the same things right?”
Alphonse nodded, blushing. “It felt like I was the one doing everything.”
“I know right!” Luna smiled down at him. “I think we need to bring the others in on this.”
“Really?”
“Ye-huh. Tomorrow night. I’ve got a game in mind.”
Luna picked up her bag.
“I really need a shower after all of that. I’ll call you later, okay?”
And with that, she left. Alphonse flopped back down and sighed. What he just unleashed?
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In a dystopian world of government stealth control, agents Jacob and Gordon are tasked to protect Ashley, a bubbly college student, on her vacation to an island resort. Jacob and Gordon bicker with, control, and find themselves overcome by the roles they must take on. This story features a varying third person POV, male to female possession / stealth control, a vague kidnapping plot, and two tough men being forced by circumstances to inhabit soft, female bodies.
In the windowless confines of a government facility buried deep beneath Washington D.C., two men sat opposite each other in an unadorned room, the light from the single overhead bulb pooling around them. One was young, his buzzcut hair making him appear younger than his 28 years, and his brown eyes shone with defiance. The other was older, with the lined face of someone used to bearing weighty responsibility. His blue eyes held a stern, almost desperate look. These men were Jacob and Gordon, agents of the clandestine organization known as the CBI.
The room hummed with a quiet tension as a holographic display flickered to life between them. Images of a young woman with brown hair flashed on the screen. She looked bright, bubbly even, her smile filled with the naiveté of the privileged. Her name, the display read, was Ashley. Her father was a big shot in the government, and she was their next assignment.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze darted from the hologram to his partner. The disdain in his voice was almost tangible. "So, we're playing babysitters now?"
Gordon's stern gaze remained fixed on the display. "We're protecting an innocent life, Jacob," he said, his voice tight. "An innocent life that, if lost, could plunge the country into chaos."
Jacob scoffed, unconvinced. "The rich girl's daddy has a lot of enemies, huh?"
"More than you'd think." Gordon looked at Jacob, his eyes betraying his seriousness. "This isn't just about Ashley. It's about national security."
The display changed to the image of a blonde-haired woman named Sherry and an Asian woman, labelled Barbara. "They're friends of Ashley’s. We’ve known Sherry for quite some time, but Barbara We believe Barbara is new to us. We haven’t been able to verify her identity."
Jacob's eyebrows shot up. "And we're supposed to do what? Use stealth control and become sorority sisters?"
Gordon ignored Jacob's sarcasm. "We're to protect Ashley, and if necessary, neutralize Barbara."
“Neutralize Barbara, Jesus Christ. We don’t even know who she is yet. She could just be some college student!”
There was a moment of silence as both men took in the gravity of their mission. Gordon continued, "We're to use the stealth control, as needed, to keep an eye on the girls without disrupting their holiday plans. We will be meeting them before the mission, so they will know who we are, and that we are there to keep them safe.”
Jacob looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Why am I always the one getting dressed in women's clothes?"
Gordon shrugged and gave a slight smile, "I can’t speak to your previous experience their, Jacob. Perhaps you make a good girl"
“Yeah, fuck you.” Jacob laughed, “We’ll see what happens.”
As the room plunged into darkness, both men rose from their chairs. They had a mission to accomplish. They were CBI agents; their personal feelings had no room in the grand scheme of things.
They were the unseen guardians, ready to step into the lives of the oblivious to keep them safe. It was their duty. Their burden.
“Hey, if you take over Sherry, will you show me her tits?”
It was just another day in the CBI.
______________________________________________
The private jet was an opulent capsule of wealth and privilege, humming smoothly above the clouds. Inside, Jacob and Gordon sat across from Ashley and Sherry. The air was thick with tension as they divulged the secrets of the CBI and their stealth control technology.
Jacob, lounging in his plush seat, was narrating a previous mission with a cheeky grin. "It was a nunnery in Budapest, you see," he began, "I had to infiltrate the sisterhood, become one of them. You wouldn't believe the shenanigans I got up to with those rosary beads."
Gordon winced at Jacob's choice of words. The older man knew that his partner's irreverence towards their technology would not help soothe the girls' anxiety. He cast an apologetic glance at Ashley, who was listening with wide-eyed disbelief.
Sherry, however, was less tolerant. The blonde girl crossed her arms, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "Are you telling me," she began, her voice icy, "that you could just take over one of us without us even knowing? That's... that's gross! It's disgusting!"
Jacob merely shrugged, not at all perturbed by her outrage. "It's the job," he said, leaning back into his seat. "It's not personal. And it's only if necessary. It's all about protecting your dear friend Ashley here."
Ashley looked terrified at the thought of her body being taken over. Sherry, on the other hand, looked downright furious.
Gordon, sensing the escalating tension, decided to intervene. "It's a measure of last resort, ladies," he assured them. "We would not use this technology unless it's absolutely necessary."
"But how can you make that decision?" Sherry protested, her voice shaking. "What gives you the right to use our bodies like... like empty vessels?"
Gordon's gaze hardened. "It's our duty, Miss. We're here to protect Ashley and you from potential harm."
"What potential harm?" Ashley asked, her voice tiny. "We're just on college break."
Gordon's glance slid to Jacob, then back to the girls. "We have reason to believe that one of your college mates, Barbara, might not be who she claims to be."
Sherry's nostrils flared, her sharp eyes narrowing on Jacob. "You probably enjoy this, don't you?" she accused, her voice dripping with contempt. "You get your kicks out of wearing women's bodies. Must be a real ego trip."
Jacob looked unfazed by her accusations. Instead, he let out a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. "You know, Sherry," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "You really should learn to relax. Life's too short to always be angry."
Sherry's retort was cut off as the plane jostled slightly, a patch of turbulence causing everyone to grip their armrests. The distraction provided Jacob with the perfect cover. His hand moved deftly, slipping a small device from his pocket. With a swift, practised movement, he reached out under the guise of steadying Sherry and attached the receiver to the back of her neck.
She gave him a sour look, completely oblivious to the device now nestled under her blonde curls. "Keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, swatting his arm away.
Jacob simply raised his hands in a show of innocence, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Just making sure you're safe, princess."
Gordon shot Jacob a stern look, shaking his head slightly. The younger agent was playing a dangerous game, but Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of time. For now, they had to trust Jacob's instincts, as reckless as they seemed.
As the jet soared above the clouds, a game of cat and mouse was beginning to take shape. Unbeknownst to her, Sherry was now at the mercy of a technology that made her body an unwitting pawn in a high-stakes game. And all around her, eyes watched, ready to protect, and if necessary, to control.
Jacob fished out the small, innocuous-looking device from his pocket. It was the transmitter, the critical piece of technology that could bridge minds. "Now, ladies," he began, holding up the device for them to see, "this little gadget here is the key. It links me to the receiver, allowing me to 'borrow' the body."
Sherry scoffed, her face flushing with anger. "You mean 'hijack,' not 'borrow.'"
Jacob merely shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling into a wry grin. "Potato, potahto."
"And you're planning to use it on me?" Sherry spat, her fingers curling into tight fists. “No way I’ll let you put one of those receiver things on me.”
"Why, Sherry, it's almost like you're worried." Jacob teased, his grin broadening. "I promise you won't feel a thing. One moment you'll be here, the next you'll be... well, still here. But with better decision-making skills."
Gordon frowned at Jacob's flippant remark, but remained silent. Ashley, on the other hand, was growing more anxious by the second. Her wide eyes darted between Jacob, Sherry, and the device in Jacob's hand.
"But... how can you ensure she won't realize?" Ashley asked, her voice quivering.
Jacob leaned back, clasping the transmitter device in his hand. "That's the beauty of it, Ashley. The person being controlled won't even realize they're not making their own decisions. They just think they're having a particularly decisive day."
Ashley gulped, her gaze drifting towards Sherry, who was now standing, her eyes blazing with fury. "And what if I refuse?" Sherry snapped, her voice echoing in the confined space of the jet.
Jacob met her gaze unflinchingly, his grin never wavering. "Well, then, princess," he said, his voice deceptively soft, "you can consider this a lesson in diplomacy. Or better yet, consider it... an adventure."
"An adventure?" Sherry scoffed, her eyes alight with a mixture of anger and defiance. "I think you'll find, Jacob, that I'm not as easy to control as you think."
Jacob's grin widened, his gaze meeting hers. "Is that a challenge, princess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes gleamed with anticipation at the thought of finally putting the arrogant heiress in her place.
Beside Sherry, Ashley's brow furrowed in thought. "But... what does it feel like?" she asked quietly. "Being controlled, I mean."
Jacob shifted his attention to Ashley, his grin softening into a gentler smile. "It's like being a passenger in your own body, Ashley," he explained. "You feel everything, you see everything. But the decisions, the actions, they're all made by someone else. And the best part? You won't even realize it's not you."
Ashley chewed on her lower lip, her brown eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. "So... it's like sleepwalking?"
"In a way," Gordon chimed in, his voice steady. "You're aware of everything happening, but it's like you're on autopilot."
"But I can resist, right?" Sherry cut in, her voice filled with determination. "I mean, it's my body. I should be able to fight it."
Jacob chuckled, the sound echoing through the private jet. "I'd love to see you try, princess," he said, his tone filled with a challenge. He was relishing the opportunity to use the stealth control technology, and even more so, the opportunity to take Sherry down a notch.
Gordon watched the exchange quietly. There was an undeniable tension building between Jacob and Sherry, a silent power struggle that hung heavy in the air. As for Ashley, she was a mixture of curiosity and fear. But Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of choice anymore. A game was set to begin, and whether they liked it or not, they were all players.
Jacob lifted the transmitter, his fingers curling around the device. His eyes locked onto Sherry's defiant glare, a predatory grin playing on his lips.
"Let's put your theory to the test, shall we, princess?" His voice was low and taunting, as he pressed a button on the transmitter.
The moment the button was pressed, Jacob's body slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, and a blank expression on his face. Meanwhile, the effect on Sherry was immediate and startling.
Sherry's eyes glazed over for a moment, before a confident, almost mischievous smirk spread across her face - a mirror image of Jacob's. Her posture changed subtly, carrying the swagger and bravado that Jacob exhibited. Her hands reached out, grabbing onto the arms of her chair, and then she was pushing herself up to a standing position.
Inside Sherry's body, Jacob was reveling in his control. His – or rather, Sherry's – hands spread wide as he straightened her back, pushing her shoulders back with an exaggerated flourish. He could feel the luxurious fabric of her clothes, the power of her healthy, young muscles. Sherry's outraged expression had been replaced by his confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of his delight and daring.
"This," he made Sherry's voice purr, gesturing to her body with her hands, "is rather impressive."
Across the aisle, Ashley's eyes went wide with shock, her gaze darting between Sherry's animated form and Jacob's lifeless body. She was silent, her hand hovering uncertainly over her mouth as she grappled with the reality of what she was witnessing.
Gordon's face was a stoic mask, his eyes moving between his own lifeless partner and the heiress, now dancing like a puppet on a string. He noted the smug satisfaction radiating off of 'Sherry', and knew Jacob was thoroughly enjoying himself.
A strange sensation gripped Sherry, but it was not an unpleasant one. It was like waking up in the morning and not quite remembering your dream, but knowing it had been delightful. She found herself giggling, her hands drifting down to the hem of her dress and tugging it experimentally. It was her decision, she thought. Why else would she do it?
She was aware of the luxurious fabric sliding between her fingers, of the way it hugged her figure. She was not usually one to admire herself so openly, yet now she found herself doing just that. She glanced down at her designer heels and in the blink of an eye, decided they were far too constricting. With a small huff, she kicked them off, the shoes sailing through the air with a satisfying arc before landing with a muffled thud.
Her gaze returned to her bare feet, her pedicured toes wriggling against the plush carpet of the jet. The sensation was... liberating. She looked at her own body, her hands exploring the curves of her form, the feeling so natural it was as if she had decided to do it herself.
Yet somewhere, a small part of her mind fluttered with uncertainty. She remembered Jacob's promise, his taunting grin, the way his body had slumped lifelessly. Was it possible that she wasn't in control, that she was just a passenger in her own body?
She pushed the thought away immediately. She was Sherry, the woman who bowed to no one, the woman who was always in control. She was not going to be manipulated by a man who saw her as nothing more than a plaything.
She cupped her breasts with a smirk. Yep, these were hers all right.
The moment was interrupted by Gordon's stern voice, "Alright, Jacob. That's enough. Don't embarrass the girl."
Jacob's smirk, painted on Sherry's face, deepened at his partner's reprimand. With a dramatic bow, he surrendered the controls. The moment he disengaged the transmitter, his own body jerked back to life, a yawn escaping his lips as though he had just woken from a nap.
At the same time, Sherry's body froze, the audacious smirk slowly melting from her face. She blinked, her eyes returning to their usual fierce determination. She looked around, her brows furrowed in confusion, as if waking from an odd dream.
Ashley rushed over to her friend, concern etched into her face. "Sherry, are you okay? What did it feel like?"
Sherry frowned, her hands running down her dress, straightening it out. "What do you mean, 'what did it feel like'? I was just...having a bit of fun, that's all."
"But... but Jacob was controlling you," Ashley stammered, glancing between her friend and the CBI agent. "Didn't you feel that?"
"Nonsense," Sherry huffed, a flush creeping onto her cheeks. "No one controls me. Not even Jacob."
Gordon watched the exchange in silence. If Jacob's demonstration had taught them anything, it was the power and subtlety of the stealth control technology. Even now, Sherry refused to believe she'd been manipulated.
Jacob, meanwhile, stretched in his seat, a satisfied smirk still dancing on his lips. He'd enjoyed the ride more than he'd anticipated, and Sherry's continued denial was just icing on the cake. Despite the underlying seriousness of their mission, he found himself looking forward to what would come next.
It didn’t have to be him that was stuck inside that gorgeous female body, after all.
As the private jet descended onto the private airstrip of the island resort, Ashley and Sherry gazed out the window, their eyes filled with anticipation. From above, the resort looked like a paradise. An ocean of turquoise blue lapped against white sandy beaches, while luxurious villas lay dotted amidst lush, tropical greenery.
Once they'd landed, Ashley and Sherry, fueled by excitement, hurried off the jet and disappeared into the resort. They were seemingly unaffected by the strange events on the plane, or perhaps just choosing to ignore them for now.
With the girls out of earshot, Gordon turned to Jacob. His stern gaze bore into his partner's smirking face. "What you did up there was inappropriate," he chided, his voice low but firm. "This isn't a game, Jacob. We're here to protect Ashley and Sherry, not to make fools of them."
Jacob's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew wider. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Gordon," he said casually. "But I also think it's important to enjoy your work, don't you?"
Gordon sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is serious, Jacob. We have a mission."
Jacob rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. All serious and no play. But tell you what, Gordon. Next time, you get to do the controlling. I'd love to see what 'fun' you'd have with Sherry."
Gordon's face blanched at the thought. "Jacob, I..."
Jacob cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No arguments, Gordon. We'll see how much of a straight shooter you are then."
As Jacob walked off towards the resort, leaving a dumbstruck Gordon behind, he couldn't help but chuckle. His mission had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
___________________________
Inside one of the private villas in the resort, Gordon and Jacob had swiftly set up their temporary base of operations. Surveillance equipment was neatly arranged across the tables, while a screen displayed the layout of the entire resort. Here, they would keep a close eye on Ashley and Sherry while blending into the luxurious backdrop of their surroundings.
The evening brought with it a gentle breeze that swept across the balcony of the villa, rustling the leaves of the palm trees outside. Gordon found himself standing there, staring out into the approaching dusk, his thoughts burdened by the prospect of the task ahead.
Jacob joined him, his posture relaxed, a glass of some exotic drink in his hand. "Nervous, Gordon?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.
Gordon shot him a sidelong glance. "I just... I don't agree with this method. It feels wrong."
Jacob chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "You'll get used to it. Besides, we're doing this for Ashley, remember? So she can enjoy her break with her friends, oblivious to the danger lurking around."
Gordon sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face. "Fine. I'll take over Sherry. But you're tailing us in your own body. No more 'fun' at their expense."
Jacob laughed, raising his glass. "Deal. And don't worry, Gordon. I'll be the perfect, invisible shadow. No antics, promise."
The decision to initiate the stealth control came swiftly and without ceremony. In the privacy of their villa, Gordon held the small transmitter, a device no larger than a pocket watch, and connected to the receiver implanted on Sherry. The world swirled around him for a moment, and then, darkness.
When he woke up, he found himself seated at the resort bar, ambient music softly playing in the background. He was now in Sherry's body, her senses his, her world his to navigate. As he came to terms with the transfer, he took a moment to observe his new surroundings.
The air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and tropical drinks, mixed with the salty tang of the nearby ocean. His ears picked up the faint laughter and chatter of other guests, the clinking of glasses, and the distant crash of waves against the shore. It was a sensory overload compared to the quiet solitude of the CBI headquarters, and Gordon had to suppress a wave of vertigo.
Cautiously, he glanced down at his new body. It was strange to see Sherry's slender fingers resting on the bar counter instead of his own callused hands. He could feel the cool, polished surface of the bar under these fingers, the smooth grain of the wood distinct and real.
Sherry was dressed for a night on the town, in a little black dress that shimmered under the warm lighting of the bar. He could feel the soft fabric against his skin, the hemline resting high on his - no, Sherry's - thighs. The sensation of the strappy heels on his feet was new and uncomfortable. It felt like he was walking on stilts, precariously balancing with every step.
Just as he was grappling with the surreal experience, Ashley approached. She was dressed equally stylish, a bright smile on her face as she took the seat next to Sherry's body. "Sherry, you were right! This place is fabulous!"
Keeping up appearances, Gordon forced a smile, trying to mimic Sherry's mean-spirited charm. "Told you, didn't I? Only the best for us, Ash."
Gordon, having assumed the role of Sherry, felt a rush of panic as Ashley, buzzing with youthful exuberance, grabbed his - her - hand. "Let's dance, Sherry!" she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Before Gordon could utter a word of protest, Ashley had pulled him onto the dance floor. The pulsing beat of the music seemed to engulf him, the rhythm a foreign language his body did not speak.
He found himself in the midst of a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, the flashing strobe lights illuminating the dance floor in a frenetic array. The energy was contagious, the crowd swaying and moving as one, but Gordon felt like an intruder in this world. He was an agent, trained to navigate the darkest corners of the world, not a dance floor.
Despite his discomfort, Gordon pushed aside his reservations, trying to mimic the moves of the people around him. He attempted to keep a safe distance from Ashley, but she seemed keen on dancing more intimately, matching the rhythm and closeness of the other dancers.
The heels were another challenge altogether. With each step, he could feel his balance falter. It was a stark contrast to his usual surefootedness in sturdy combat boots. He cursed Jacob under his breath - this was a world he was unprepared for.
To add to his mounting discomfort, the hemline of Sherry's dress seemed determined to defy gravity, riding up with every movement he made. It was a battle to keep pulling it down, all the while trying to maintain his balance and continue the dance.
"I didn't know you were so shy, Sherry," Ashley giggled, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "You usually take the lead."
Gordon laughed, hoping it sounded genuine. "I guess, it's just one of those nights, Ash. Let's just enjoy the music, shall we?"
As the music blared and bodies swayed around him, Gordon realized that he was not just in uncharted territory. He was on a battlefield, far removed from his comfort zone. But, as with all battles, he would adapt and overcome.
As the tempo of the music began to slow down, two men approached them. One was a tall, dark-haired man with a charming smile, while the other had sandy hair and blue eyes that held a hint of mischief. Ashley, ever the social butterfly, eagerly introduced herself and, in a matter of moments, was whisked away to the other side of the dance floor by the dark-haired stranger.
Gordon, still in Sherry's body, was left alone with the sandy-haired man. He was named Chris, a name Gordon committed to memory in case it was needed later. As the man extended his hand to him, inviting him for the slow dance, Gordon felt a pang of unease. This was far from the battlefields he was used to.
As Chris pulled him closer, Gordon felt the distinct discomfort of being in an attractive woman's body. The warmth of the man’s body was uncomfortably intimate, his hand resting at the small of Sherry's back felt invasive, and the smell of his aftershave was too potent, a little too sweet for Gordon's liking.
Gordon forced a smile, playing along with the dance, his body moving in sync with the rhythm. He kept reminding himself that this was all a part of the mission, a necessary discomfort for the greater cause. But, as Chris's hand moved a little too low for Gordon's comfort, he found himself fighting a blush of embarrassment. The feeling was both foreign and unsettling.
"Sherry, you're quite the dancer," Chris murmured, his gaze appreciative, as Gordon tottered around awkwardly in Sherry’s heels.
"I bet you say that to all your girlfriends." Gordon replied in his high pitched voice, trying his best to emulate Sherry's sharp and sassy tone.
__________________
Jacob sat across the room, sipping on a glass of whiskey as he observed the dance floor. His trained eyes scanned the crowd, on the lookout for any signs of danger. But, his attention inevitably strayed to the sight of Gordon, in Sherry's body, tottering about like a newborn lamb on the dance floor.
A smirk spread across Jacob's face, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The usually stern and upstanding Gordon was now attempting to navigate the world of high heels and mini dresses, and from Jacob's perspective, it was a sight to behold.
He watched as Gordon, or rather Sherry, swayed gently to the rhythm of the music, an awkward contrast to the fluid movements of his dancing partner. Jacob stifled a laugh as he saw Gordon struggling to pull the dress down, only for it to rebelliously creep back up.
His gaze then slid to Sherry's legs, an aspect of her appearance he hadn't previously given much thought. The dress, although a source of discomfort for Gordon, did accentuate the length and graceful curve of her legs. A pang of appreciation and regret hit Jacob simultaneously. He couldn't deny that Sherry's body was appealing, yet it brought back a surge of memories from earlier in the day - memories he tried to suppress, but couldn't help revisiting.
Jacob sighed, taking another sip of his whiskey. His smirk morphed into a serious expression as he forced his attention back onto his duty.
Just as Jacob was about to glance back at Gordon, a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He squinted, his gaze zeroing in on a familiar face in the crowd. It was Barbara, the Asian woman from their briefing, her tall and curvy frame immediately recognizable.
His heart pounded a little faster as he noticed her subtly trailing after Ashley, who was now being led away by her dark-haired dance partner. Jacob shot a quick look towards Gordon, who was still entangled in a dance with Chris, completely oblivious to Ashley's movement.
With a roll of his eyes, Jacob pushed away his amusement at Gordon's situation. This was not the time for distractions. He slid off his barstool, leaving his whiskey behind, and started towards Barbara. He blended effortlessly with the crowd, his black suit camouflaging him in the dimly lit room.
As he neared Barbara, he fell into his well-rehearsed pattern of shadowing a target, maintaining a safe distance while keeping her in his line of sight. His hand subtly rested on the small device in his pocket - the stealth control transmitter & receiver pair - just in case he needed it.
Jacob was an expert at this - the stalking, the anticipation. The adrenaline rush was a part of his job he genuinely relished. A predatory smile curled on his lips as he thought of what he might have to do next.
__________________
For Ashley, the evening was a thrilling dance of laughter, flirting, and cocktails. Yet, something was off. Sherry, her usually energetic and vivacious friend, had been acting weird all night. Her antics on the dance floor were one thing, but the occasional stiff body language and the moments of awkward silence were entirely unlike her.
But these concerns paled as she found herself being led off the dance floor by the charming man she'd met earlier. He introduced himself as Tom, and the way he spun her around the dance floor had her head spinning with delight. It was the way he whispered compliments into her ear, his lips brushing against her hair, that kept her enchanted.
However, as they ventured further into the quieter, more secluded parts of the resort, a flicker of apprehension ignited within her. The lights of the dance floor were fading, replaced by the low hum of the backstage area. It felt wrong, almost predatory. Tom, her partner, no longer looked charming but sinister under the harsh backstage lights.
Before Ashley could process her thoughts and voice her concerns, a strong hand clamped around her mouth, silencing her surprised yelp. Her heart hammered in her chest as she was yanked off her feet and into the obscurity of a darkened room. The last sight she caught was that of Tom, a twisted smile playing on his lips as the door shut, plunging her into darkness.
_____________
Jacob swore as he walked off the dance floor, following Barbara’s mesmerising hips. He’d lost track of Ashley. He could have sworn she’d come this way just a moment ago. In a blur of colors and movement, he stopped in his tracks, eyes scanning the crowd in a frantic attempt to spot her. She had vanished. He cursed under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. He'd let himself be distracted by Barbara's tantalizing movements, the hypnotic sway of her hips, the seductive bend of her spine as she moved with the rhythm of the music.
He looked back toward her as she pushed through a door to the backstage area. Those damn beautiful legs, with their thick muscles, silky curves, and glinting steel…
Wait, what?
He squinted. Strapped to Barbara’s thigh, just showing under the bunched up fabric of her dress, was a small, but lethal-looking knife. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Barbara was the assassin they had been warned about.
He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze to remain focused. It was easy to get lost in the appreciation of her form, but the sight of the weapon brought him back to reality. He was not here to admire. He was here to protect.
He watched as Barbara made her way off the dance floor, her gait smooth and purposeful. His gut told him that Ashley was in danger, and he had to act fast. His fingers curled around the receiver in his pocket, ready to make his move. Now was not the time for admiring; now was the time for action.
The door to the backstage area swung shut behind Barbara, separating her from the bustling dance floor. The echo of her exit rumbled in Jacob's ears, setting his adrenaline surging. He'd let Ashley out of his sight once already, and he couldn't let it happen again.
With a newfound determination, Jacob took off after Barbara, his footfalls silent against the resort's plush carpeting. He wove his way through the throng of party-goers, his gaze fixed on the door Barbara had just passed through.
The backstage corridor was a sharp contrast to the vibrant scene they'd left behind. The din of the party was muffled here, replaced by the low hum of equipment and hushed conversations of staff. There, just a few strides away, Barbara moved with a killer's grace, her body coiled like a viper ready to strike.
Taking advantage of her lack of awareness, Jacob made his move. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between them and attached the stealth control receiver to the back of her neck. It adhered with a near-silent click, an unassuming speck on her tanned skin.
A rush of adrenaline swept over him. He was about to step into the shoes of an assassin. He couldn't afford to mess this up. His own body fell into its unresponsive slumber as he activated the transmitter, his consciousness diving into the unknown territory of Barbara's mind and body.
The transfer was instantaneous, like diving headfirst into a cold pool. One moment, Jacob was on the precipice of the transition; the next, he was immersed in the mind and body of an assassin. His first instinct was to familiarize himself with his new form.
Flexing his — no, Barbara's — fingers, he traced the curvaceous lines of her body. The strength beneath the feminine exterior was not lost on him; every curve, every muscle was toned and firm, sculpted by years of disciplined training.
He took a moment to chastise her for her line of work, delivering a firm slap to her cheek. The sensation was jarring. He could feel both the sting of the slap and the tremor that ran through her hand. His lips curled into a smirk at the absurdity of the act.
His gaze traveled downwards, observing the dress that clung to her like a second skin. He raised an eyebrow, taking in the sight of her attractive form. Being in a woman's body was one thing; being in the body of an attractive assassin was an entirely different ballgame.
He quickly pulled out the skin tight dress to stare down into his new cleavage. What was the point of taking over a female form if you couldn’t admire it, anyway? He shook his hips side to side, noticing the strange sensation that his legs were further apart then they should be. He quickly felt between his legs and smirked. He loved being a woman.
Jacob found himself musing about what life might be like for Barbara. How often did she use her beauty as a weapon, ensnaring her targets in a web of desire before delivering the final blow? How did she navigate the world of shadowy figures and deadly contracts while maintaining her femininity? It was a world he was about to explore, albeit temporarily. He only hoped he could navigate it as well as she did.
_____________________
Sherry found herself in the throes of a dance she didn't understand. It was a slow dance, her body swaying rhythmlessly, almost clumsily in a stranger's arms. The guy, a young man with a keen interest in her, had a grip on her that seemed too firm, too persistent. But for reasons unknown, she didn't pull away.
She was usually more composed, her moves fluid and natural. Tonight, though, something was off. Each step she took felt like a struggle, her legs buckling under her as if they had forgotten how to dance. Her signature grace was replaced with an awkwardness that puzzled her. It was as if her body was operating independently, responding to cues that she wasn't consciously giving.
It wasn't just her dance skills that were off, it was her entire perception. She felt detached from her actions, like a spectator in her own body. "What is happening to me?" she thought, as she once again found herself gently brushing down the front of her dress, between her legs, as if something was missing there.
Her eyes flitted around the room, desperately seeking a familiar face. Ashley was nowhere to be seen. A twinge of worry gnawed at her. She considered breaking away from the dance to find her, but her body continued to sway to the rhythm of the song. For the moment, she was trapped in the dance, locked in the arms of a stranger, her concern for Ashley gnawing at the back of her mind.
____________________________
Ashley was trying to keep her calm. Her wrists were bound together with a harsh, biting cord, her body shoved onto a chair in a dim, musty room. The man, who she now knew as Tom, was pacing restlessly in front of her.
Tom had a gruff exterior, his features hardened by what Ashley could only assume were years spent in illicit activities. He was irritated, glancing at the door every few seconds, his grumbles growing louder as time passed.
"Where the hell is she?" Tom growled under his breath, his gaze darting towards the old, rusty clock hanging off-kilter on the wall. The room, which seemed to be some sort of storage area, echoed with the loud ticking of the clock, punctuating the heavy silence that lay between them.
Ashley felt a wave of dread wash over her. She didn't know who they were waiting for, but she was certain that her appearance wouldn't bode well for her. Her mind raced, thoughts whirling in a tornado of fear and anxiety.
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open, revealing the silhouette of a woman. Barbara. Ashley knew her only casually from their classes, but she had always had a cold, distant demeanor. Ashley watched her with wide, fearful eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. Barbara stalked into the room, her eyes glinting dangerously. Tom straightened, a surprised grunt escaping his lips.
"Finally," he growled. "What took you so--"
His sentence was cut off as Barbara lunged at him. It happened so fast that Ashley barely had time to blink. One moment, Tom was standing, the next, he was sprawled on the floor with Barbara on top of him. She moved with a grace and precision that belied her size. Her fists rained down on Tom, and Ashley could hear the dull thud of each punch landing.
Tom fought back, his surprise turning into a snarl of anger. But Barbara – or was it Barbara? - was relentless. It was as if she was a completely different person, her eyes filled with a cold fury that Ashley had never seen before.
There was a crack, a yelp of pain from Tom, and then silence. Barbara rose, leaving Tom lying motionless on the floor. She turned towards Ashley, and for a moment, Ashley's heart seized in terror.
But then, Barbara – no, this couldn’t be Barbara - merely crossed the room to where Ashley sat, her eyes filled with an intensity that made her shiver. Her hands, surprisingly gentle, began to work at the cords binding Ashley. As she was freed, Ashley felt a rush of relief, her mind a whirl of questions.
Who was this woman really? And why had she come to her rescue?
_________________
It was strange. Jacob had been in female bodies before but somehow, controlling Barbara was different. There was a raw, physical power in her, a vitality that felt foreign and exhilarating. He flexed her hands, still tingling from the impact against Tom's face. He had managed to put the brute down, but not without some struggle. Women weren't supposed to be as strong as men, or so Jacob thought, but Barbara was an exception.
At the same time, he was irked. Controlling Barbara’s body had revealed a new set of challenges. Her strength wasn’t the same as his own, particularly his arms. It had taken quite a few punches to deal with Tom, and his knuckles were painful and swelling. As he kneeled to untie Ashley, he felt a pulse of fatigue.
"Who are you?" Ashley stuttered as the ropes loosened.
Jacob paused, a grimace crossing Barbara's face. "It's me, Ashley," he said, trying to infuse Barbara's voice with as much of his own character as possible. "Jacob. I’m using the stealth control tech."
He saw the confusion flicker across Ashley’s face before comprehension dawned on her. Her eyes widened in shock. "Jacob? Really?”
"We’ll have time for questions later," Jacob interrupted, finishing untying her. "Right now, we need to get you out of here."
As he stood up, he once again took a moment to appreciate the body he was controlling. Powerful, agile and, he had to admit, seductive. Barbara was a woman to be reckoned with. If he had his way, he wouldn't mind using this body a bit more.
Jacob felt Ashley stiffen as they approached his own limp body lying unnoticed in the corridor. He hated seeing himself like this - vulnerable and defenseless. It was a risk of the stealth control tech, but a necessary one.
“Jacob?” Ashley’s voice quivered, “Is that… your body?”
“Yeah, it is,” Jacob replied with a curt nod, feeling a grim satisfaction at the shock on Ashley’s face. He let go of her arm and knelt beside his own body. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a spare receiver, a near-invisible piece of technology that was the size of a coin.
"Here, turn around," Jacob instructed, holding the receiver up.
“What are you doing?” Ashley asked, a note of panic edging into her voice as she moved away.
Jacob rose to his feet, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you saw what happened tonight, right? Clearly, you need more protection. This," he said, holding the receiver up, "this will let me keep a closer eye on you."
Ashley looked from the receiver to Jacob’s unconscious body and then back to Barbara, a dawning realization in her eyes. “You want to control me too?”
“Only if necessary,” Jacob replied, his voice firm. “Besides, I did just save your life.”
Ashley hesitated for a moment longer, her gaze darting between Barbara and Jacob’s limp body. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she turned around. As Jacob attached the receiver onto the back of her neck, he could feel her shudder under his touch.
“Don’t worry, Ashley,” Jacob reassured her, “You’re in safe hands.” A grin spread across Barbara’s face as he said it.
“Um… okay.” said Ashley. “I’m going to head back up to my room now. Tell Sherry where I went.”
With that, she scampered away. Was it safe to let her run off by herself like that? Jacob thought. How many times could somebody get kidnapped in one night anyway?
Some part of him said probably more than once, but fuck it. He pushed through the door back into the club.
With Ashley finally off to safety, Jacob turned his attention back to the dance floor. He scanned the throng of gyrating bodies and found Gordon, still looking completely out of sorts in Sherry's body. His movements were clunky and unsure, like a fawn taking its first steps. A smirk played on Jacob's lips as he moved towards him.
As he approached, he saw a group of young men watching Gordon with a mix of amusement and lustful curiosity. "Excuse me, gents," Jacob said in Barbara's sultry voice, sliding between them with an ease that belied his masculine mind.
He reached Gordon and took his hands, leading him onto the dance floor. He could feel Gordon stiffen in surprise but made no attempt to pull away.
"Sherry," Jacob said, grinning mischievously, "you dance like you have two left feet. Let me show you how it's done."
Gordon, looking surprised, stuttered a reply. "Barbara? What are you—"
Jacob silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shh. Dance with me, Sherry."
With that, Jacob led the dance. As Barbara, he moved fluidly, sensually, leading Sherry around the dance floor in a dance that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Jacob revelled in the moment, both in the control he held over the situation and in the pleasure of making Gordon squirm.
As the music swelled, Jacob spun Sherry out and then pulled her back in. Sherry's surprised yelp was swallowed by the cheers of the crowd. Jacob could barely contain his laughter as Gordon, wide-eyed and flushed, stared at him.
The song ended, and Jacob released Gordon, flashing him a smug smile. "That," he said, pointing a finger at Gordon, "is how you dance."
Jacob lowered Barbara’s already sultry voice. “Want to see how you do… something else?”
Sherry’s body stared up at him, eyes wide, and reached a hesitant hand around the side of Barbara’s neck. Jacob felt the fingers explore, settling on the receiver still attached just above the spine.
A look of understanding passed over Sherry’s face, and then she gave a small, subtle nod. Jacob leaned in for a kiss. The frat boys around them cheered.
_______________
Five drinks later, the two agents turned college girls were in each other's arms, sloppily alternating between making out and examining their new bodies.
“I think Sherry is a- a lightweight” giggled Gordon, blushing at the situation. “Here I am, a twenty one year old girl, or a fifty six year old man, or a jesus…”
“I don’t think you’re Jesus,” smirked Jacob. He used Barbara’s hand to fondle one of Sherry’s breasts. “He wasn’t nearly this stacked.”
“Should we… should we…” Gordon started.
“Find somewhere more private? Sure.” Jacob forced himself to his feet, once again admiring the long, feminine legs that stretched out before him.
“I was going to say dis- disengage” grumbled Gordon. “But I think I like your idea better.”
He nearly rolled one of Sherry’s ankles as he stumbled to his feet. He leaned on Barbara’s body as the two of them snuck away from the emptying bar and up to a room.
“You know the best thing about being a girl?” said Gordon drunkenly. “Everybody wants to have sex with you. Tom wanted to have sex with me. Chris wanted to have sex with me. Even hot college girls like Barbara want to have sex with me.”
He fell back onto the bed, rubbing his legs together.
“Evvveeerybody wants to have sex with me. I’m a sex god.”
“I’m not a college girl.” said Jacob, smirking as he took off his dress.
“Assassin, whatever.”
Jacob laughed. He reached underneath Sherry’s dress and pulled down her silk panties.
“And you know the worst part about being a girl? Evvverrrybody wants to have sex with me. What if I don’t want to have sex with them?”
Jacob pawed at one of Sherry's legs, nibbling at her thigh. Gordon mewed at him.
“I don’t get to turn it off. They always want to have sexxxx, even if I don’t want to. Every guy was staaaaaring at me. Half the girls were staring at me.”
Jacob tore off his own underwear and frowned down at his flat crotch. Oh yeah.
“Being a girl suuuuuuccccks. Everybody always wants to have seeeexxx with me.”
“Being a girl sucks alright”, thought Jacob as he drunkenly felt around between his legs. “How the fuck am I meant to have sex without a dick?”
He grunted and stared down at the hot, horny woman that was lying on her back in front of him, so wet it was running onto the sheets. He was so damn turned on. He would have had a throbbing erection if he was in his own body.
He looked down at himself. Past the large, hanging breasts, and to the bare vagina nestled between his thighs. He spread the labia uselessly, growly with frustration as he squinted, trying to see anything but the tiny clit that was pulsing there. It was so damn small. What the fuck was he meant to do with that?
“I’ll be right back,” Jacob growled. Gordon moaned in disappointment and began feeling himself up.
“You’re meant to rub it.” said Gordon, absentmindedly, as he began to use Sherry’s hands on her own body.
Jacob barged out of the door.
________________________________
Sherry was having a hell of a night. First she found she couldn’t dance for shit, next she spent like an hour being felt up by the same uncharming douchebag, and then she got drunk and made out with one of Ashley’s random college friends – Barbara? What was her name?
She stared down at herself, spreadeagled on the bed, horny as she had ever been. Now Barbara had disappeared, god knows where, and she could barely get herself off.
“Ugh!” she moaned in frustration. “This is way harder than it looks!”
She cupped her boob in one hand and tried to stick out her tongue to lick it, but couldn’t reach. Her other hand grabbed at her clit, tugging it up and down like a tiny little dick. Why wasn’t she acting normal? It usually took her two minutes to get off and go to sleep!
“Fuck this!” she huffed and collapsed back onto the bed. She raised her bare legs into the air and stared at them. One leg, two legs, kicking in the air.
She admired her toes as she flexed them about, rubbing one leg up and down the other. She had never really looked at herself like this before, but she had to admit, she had nice legs. She blew a kissy face at them.
“Hellloooo toes,” she chortled.
She moaned again in frustration. She didn’t want to talk to her toes. She wanted to get off! She’d been alternating between horny and frustrated all night – not to mention seemingly fascinated with her own body. What was that all about?
The door burst open.
“Still awake?” came a man’s voice. “It took me a while to sort out Barbara’s body, hand her over to the cops, make sure Ashley was safe, etcetera, etcetera.”
Sherry just stared at him. What the fuck was Jacob doing in her room?
“Nice view, boss.” he said, staring right up at her. Her legs were still raised in the air, her bare nether region exposed. She thought she should maybe cover up, but decided, why not let the perv get a view? Closest someone like him would ever get to her!
Jacob tore his pants off. “Glad you could save it for me.”
“Never tell anybody about this.” Sherry found herself hissing.
“You got it, boss.”
She looked down to see Jacob’s monster member growing before her eyes. She threw her head back and moaned. Maybe she could have sex with him after all? What’s the worst that could happen? Not like she’d been able to do much without him…
“Hurry up! You better be able to get me off in this damn horny body!”
A thick, meaty hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her along the bed. Then she felt a peculiar sensation of something big touching a hole that she had never felt before…
Of course she had felt that before, what was she thinking?
An alien sensation burst through her in little waves as Jacob’s dick entered her. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the sensation that bore through every nerve in her body.
“It feels so good!” she screamed, “and-what-the-fuck-it-feels-so-weird!”
Jacob began thrusting into her. He grabbed her arms and held them down on either side of her. All she could do was gasp as the sensations overwhelmed her body. In out in out in out.
Jacob grunted. “You like that old man? You like that Sherry?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Fuck both of you! I’m the fucking king! What did either of you do tonight for the mission? What have you ever done for me!”
“No- nothing!”
“You like being made a little bitch, don’t you Gordon? Don’t you Sherry!”
Gordon? What the fuck was he talking about? But Sherry didn’t care, she let out a scream.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me Jacob!”
“Cum like you haven’t had sex in a decade, old man!”
“Twenty five years! This is.. My first time… in twenty five years!”
Sherry was talking nonsense, but who cared? Her eyes rolled back in her head. She saw white. Every muscle in her body spasmed, every nerve cried out, she felt a wave slam into her mind, her fists clenched, her toes kicked, her whole body seized up, Jacob’s dick pulsating inside her, spurting deep into her body!
“OH GOOOOODDDDDD”
She collapsed back onto her bed. Jacob pulled out, and they quickly fell asleep.
______________________________
The next morning, Jacob was having a coffee outside the control room when Gordon, his old body looking tired and sore, grumbled his way out of the sleeping quarters.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word.”
Jacob smirked, and that was that.
In the windowless confines of a government facility buried deep beneath Washington D.C., two men sat opposite each other in an unadorned room, the light from the single overhead bulb pooling around them. One was young, his buzzcut hair making him appear younger than his 28 years, and his brown eyes shone with defiance. The other was older, with the lined face of someone used to bearing weighty responsibility. His blue eyes held a stern, almost desperate look. These men were Jacob and Gordon, agents of the clandestine organization known as the CBI.
The room hummed with a quiet tension as a holographic display flickered to life between them. Images of a young woman with brown hair flashed on the screen. She looked bright, bubbly even, her smile filled with the naiveté of the privileged. Her name, the display read, was Ashley. Her father was a big shot in the government, and she was their next assignment.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze darted from the hologram to his partner. The disdain in his voice was almost tangible. "So, we're playing babysitters now?"
Gordon's stern gaze remained fixed on the display. "We're protecting an innocent life, Jacob," he said, his voice tight. "An innocent life that, if lost, could plunge the country into chaos."
Jacob scoffed, unconvinced. "The rich girl's daddy has a lot of enemies, huh?"
"More than you'd think." Gordon looked at Jacob, his eyes betraying his seriousness. "This isn't just about Ashley. It's about national security."
The display changed to the image of a blonde-haired woman named Sherry and an Asian woman, labelled Barbara. "They're friends of Ashley’s. We’ve known Sherry for quite some time, but Barbara We believe Barbara is new to us. We haven’t been able to verify her identity."
Jacob's eyebrows shot up. "And we're supposed to do what? Use stealth control and become sorority sisters?"
Gordon ignored Jacob's sarcasm. "We're to protect Ashley, and if necessary, neutralize Barbara."
“Neutralize Barbara, Jesus Christ. We don’t even know who she is yet. She could just be some college student!”
There was a moment of silence as both men took in the gravity of their mission. Gordon continued, "We're to use the stealth control, as needed, to keep an eye on the girls without disrupting their holiday plans. We will be meeting them before the mission, so they will know who we are, and that we are there to keep them safe.”
Jacob looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Why am I always the one getting dressed in women's clothes?"
Gordon shrugged and gave a slight smile, "I can’t speak to your previous experience their, Jacob. Perhaps you make a good girl"
“Yeah, fuck you.” Jacob laughed, “We’ll see what happens.”
As the room plunged into darkness, both men rose from their chairs. They had a mission to accomplish. They were CBI agents; their personal feelings had no room in the grand scheme of things.
They were the unseen guardians, ready to step into the lives of the oblivious to keep them safe. It was their duty. Their burden.
“Hey, if you take over Sherry, will you show me her tits?”
It was just another day in the CBI.
______________________________________________
The private jet was an opulent capsule of wealth and privilege, humming smoothly above the clouds. Inside, Jacob and Gordon sat across from Ashley and Sherry. The air was thick with tension as they divulged the secrets of the CBI and their stealth control technology.
Jacob, lounging in his plush seat, was narrating a previous mission with a cheeky grin. "It was a nunnery in Budapest, you see," he began, "I had to infiltrate the sisterhood, become one of them. You wouldn't believe the shenanigans I got up to with those rosary beads."
Gordon winced at Jacob's choice of words. The older man knew that his partner's irreverence towards their technology would not help soothe the girls' anxiety. He cast an apologetic glance at Ashley, who was listening with wide-eyed disbelief.
Sherry, however, was less tolerant. The blonde girl crossed her arms, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "Are you telling me," she began, her voice icy, "that you could just take over one of us without us even knowing? That's... that's gross! It's disgusting!"
Jacob merely shrugged, not at all perturbed by her outrage. "It's the job," he said, leaning back into his seat. "It's not personal. And it's only if necessary. It's all about protecting your dear friend Ashley here."
Ashley looked terrified at the thought of her body being taken over. Sherry, on the other hand, looked downright furious.
Gordon, sensing the escalating tension, decided to intervene. "It's a measure of last resort, ladies," he assured them. "We would not use this technology unless it's absolutely necessary."
"But how can you make that decision?" Sherry protested, her voice shaking. "What gives you the right to use our bodies like... like empty vessels?"
Gordon's gaze hardened. "It's our duty, Miss. We're here to protect Ashley and you from potential harm."
"What potential harm?" Ashley asked, her voice tiny. "We're just on college break."
Gordon's glance slid to Jacob, then back to the girls. "We have reason to believe that one of your college mates, Barbara, might not be who she claims to be."
Sherry's nostrils flared, her sharp eyes narrowing on Jacob. "You probably enjoy this, don't you?" she accused, her voice dripping with contempt. "You get your kicks out of wearing women's bodies. Must be a real ego trip."
Jacob looked unfazed by her accusations. Instead, he let out a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. "You know, Sherry," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "You really should learn to relax. Life's too short to always be angry."
Sherry's retort was cut off as the plane jostled slightly, a patch of turbulence causing everyone to grip their armrests. The distraction provided Jacob with the perfect cover. His hand moved deftly, slipping a small device from his pocket. With a swift, practised movement, he reached out under the guise of steadying Sherry and attached the receiver to the back of her neck.
She gave him a sour look, completely oblivious to the device now nestled under her blonde curls. "Keep your hands to yourself," she snapped, swatting his arm away.
Jacob simply raised his hands in a show of innocence, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Just making sure you're safe, princess."
Gordon shot Jacob a stern look, shaking his head slightly. The younger agent was playing a dangerous game, but Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of time. For now, they had to trust Jacob's instincts, as reckless as they seemed.
As the jet soared above the clouds, a game of cat and mouse was beginning to take shape. Unbeknownst to her, Sherry was now at the mercy of a technology that made her body an unwitting pawn in a high-stakes game. And all around her, eyes watched, ready to protect, and if necessary, to control.
Jacob fished out the small, innocuous-looking device from his pocket. It was the transmitter, the critical piece of technology that could bridge minds. "Now, ladies," he began, holding up the device for them to see, "this little gadget here is the key. It links me to the receiver, allowing me to 'borrow' the body."
Sherry scoffed, her face flushing with anger. "You mean 'hijack,' not 'borrow.'"
Jacob merely shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling into a wry grin. "Potato, potahto."
"And you're planning to use it on me?" Sherry spat, her fingers curling into tight fists. “No way I’ll let you put one of those receiver things on me.”
"Why, Sherry, it's almost like you're worried." Jacob teased, his grin broadening. "I promise you won't feel a thing. One moment you'll be here, the next you'll be... well, still here. But with better decision-making skills."
Gordon frowned at Jacob's flippant remark, but remained silent. Ashley, on the other hand, was growing more anxious by the second. Her wide eyes darted between Jacob, Sherry, and the device in Jacob's hand.
"But... how can you ensure she won't realize?" Ashley asked, her voice quivering.
Jacob leaned back, clasping the transmitter device in his hand. "That's the beauty of it, Ashley. The person being controlled won't even realize they're not making their own decisions. They just think they're having a particularly decisive day."
Ashley gulped, her gaze drifting towards Sherry, who was now standing, her eyes blazing with fury. "And what if I refuse?" Sherry snapped, her voice echoing in the confined space of the jet.
Jacob met her gaze unflinchingly, his grin never wavering. "Well, then, princess," he said, his voice deceptively soft, "you can consider this a lesson in diplomacy. Or better yet, consider it... an adventure."
"An adventure?" Sherry scoffed, her eyes alight with a mixture of anger and defiance. "I think you'll find, Jacob, that I'm not as easy to control as you think."
Jacob's grin widened, his gaze meeting hers. "Is that a challenge, princess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes gleamed with anticipation at the thought of finally putting the arrogant heiress in her place.
Beside Sherry, Ashley's brow furrowed in thought. "But... what does it feel like?" she asked quietly. "Being controlled, I mean."
Jacob shifted his attention to Ashley, his grin softening into a gentler smile. "It's like being a passenger in your own body, Ashley," he explained. "You feel everything, you see everything. But the decisions, the actions, they're all made by someone else. And the best part? You won't even realize it's not you."
Ashley chewed on her lower lip, her brown eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. "So... it's like sleepwalking?"
"In a way," Gordon chimed in, his voice steady. "You're aware of everything happening, but it's like you're on autopilot."
"But I can resist, right?" Sherry cut in, her voice filled with determination. "I mean, it's my body. I should be able to fight it."
Jacob chuckled, the sound echoing through the private jet. "I'd love to see you try, princess," he said, his tone filled with a challenge. He was relishing the opportunity to use the stealth control technology, and even more so, the opportunity to take Sherry down a notch.
Gordon watched the exchange quietly. There was an undeniable tension building between Jacob and Sherry, a silent power struggle that hung heavy in the air. As for Ashley, she was a mixture of curiosity and fear. But Gordon knew they didn't have the luxury of choice anymore. A game was set to begin, and whether they liked it or not, they were all players.
Jacob lifted the transmitter, his fingers curling around the device. His eyes locked onto Sherry's defiant glare, a predatory grin playing on his lips.
"Let's put your theory to the test, shall we, princess?" His voice was low and taunting, as he pressed a button on the transmitter.
The moment the button was pressed, Jacob's body slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, and a blank expression on his face. Meanwhile, the effect on Sherry was immediate and startling.
Sherry's eyes glazed over for a moment, before a confident, almost mischievous smirk spread across her face - a mirror image of Jacob's. Her posture changed subtly, carrying the swagger and bravado that Jacob exhibited. Her hands reached out, grabbing onto the arms of her chair, and then she was pushing herself up to a standing position.
Inside Sherry's body, Jacob was reveling in his control. His – or rather, Sherry's – hands spread wide as he straightened her back, pushing her shoulders back with an exaggerated flourish. He could feel the luxurious fabric of her clothes, the power of her healthy, young muscles. Sherry's outraged expression had been replaced by his confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of his delight and daring.
"This," he made Sherry's voice purr, gesturing to her body with her hands, "is rather impressive."
Across the aisle, Ashley's eyes went wide with shock, her gaze darting between Sherry's animated form and Jacob's lifeless body. She was silent, her hand hovering uncertainly over her mouth as she grappled with the reality of what she was witnessing.
Gordon's face was a stoic mask, his eyes moving between his own lifeless partner and the heiress, now dancing like a puppet on a string. He noted the smug satisfaction radiating off of 'Sherry', and knew Jacob was thoroughly enjoying himself.
A strange sensation gripped Sherry, but it was not an unpleasant one. It was like waking up in the morning and not quite remembering your dream, but knowing it had been delightful. She found herself giggling, her hands drifting down to the hem of her dress and tugging it experimentally. It was her decision, she thought. Why else would she do it?
She was aware of the luxurious fabric sliding between her fingers, of the way it hugged her figure. She was not usually one to admire herself so openly, yet now she found herself doing just that. She glanced down at her designer heels and in the blink of an eye, decided they were far too constricting. With a small huff, she kicked them off, the shoes sailing through the air with a satisfying arc before landing with a muffled thud.
Her gaze returned to her bare feet, her pedicured toes wriggling against the plush carpet of the jet. The sensation was... liberating. She looked at her own body, her hands exploring the curves of her form, the feeling so natural it was as if she had decided to do it herself.
Yet somewhere, a small part of her mind fluttered with uncertainty. She remembered Jacob's promise, his taunting grin, the way his body had slumped lifelessly. Was it possible that she wasn't in control, that she was just a passenger in her own body?
She pushed the thought away immediately. She was Sherry, the woman who bowed to no one, the woman who was always in control. She was not going to be manipulated by a man who saw her as nothing more than a plaything.
She cupped her breasts with a smirk. Yep, these were hers all right.
The moment was interrupted by Gordon's stern voice, "Alright, Jacob. That's enough. Don't embarrass the girl."
Jacob's smirk, painted on Sherry's face, deepened at his partner's reprimand. With a dramatic bow, he surrendered the controls. The moment he disengaged the transmitter, his own body jerked back to life, a yawn escaping his lips as though he had just woken from a nap.
At the same time, Sherry's body froze, the audacious smirk slowly melting from her face. She blinked, her eyes returning to their usual fierce determination. She looked around, her brows furrowed in confusion, as if waking from an odd dream.
Ashley rushed over to her friend, concern etched into her face. "Sherry, are you okay? What did it feel like?"
Sherry frowned, her hands running down her dress, straightening it out. "What do you mean, 'what did it feel like'? I was just...having a bit of fun, that's all."
"But... but Jacob was controlling you," Ashley stammered, glancing between her friend and the CBI agent. "Didn't you feel that?"
"Nonsense," Sherry huffed, a flush creeping onto her cheeks. "No one controls me. Not even Jacob."
Gordon watched the exchange in silence. If Jacob's demonstration had taught them anything, it was the power and subtlety of the stealth control technology. Even now, Sherry refused to believe she'd been manipulated.
Jacob, meanwhile, stretched in his seat, a satisfied smirk still dancing on his lips. He'd enjoyed the ride more than he'd anticipated, and Sherry's continued denial was just icing on the cake. Despite the underlying seriousness of their mission, he found himself looking forward to what would come next.
It didn’t have to be him that was stuck inside that gorgeous female body, after all.
As the private jet descended onto the private airstrip of the island resort, Ashley and Sherry gazed out the window, their eyes filled with anticipation. From above, the resort looked like a paradise. An ocean of turquoise blue lapped against white sandy beaches, while luxurious villas lay dotted amidst lush, tropical greenery.
Once they'd landed, Ashley and Sherry, fueled by excitement, hurried off the jet and disappeared into the resort. They were seemingly unaffected by the strange events on the plane, or perhaps just choosing to ignore them for now.
With the girls out of earshot, Gordon turned to Jacob. His stern gaze bore into his partner's smirking face. "What you did up there was inappropriate," he chided, his voice low but firm. "This isn't a game, Jacob. We're here to protect Ashley and Sherry, not to make fools of them."
Jacob's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew wider. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Gordon," he said casually. "But I also think it's important to enjoy your work, don't you?"
Gordon sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is serious, Jacob. We have a mission."
Jacob rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. All serious and no play. But tell you what, Gordon. Next time, you get to do the controlling. I'd love to see what 'fun' you'd have with Sherry."
Gordon's face blanched at the thought. "Jacob, I..."
Jacob cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No arguments, Gordon. We'll see how much of a straight shooter you are then."
As Jacob walked off towards the resort, leaving a dumbstruck Gordon behind, he couldn't help but chuckle. His mission had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
___________________________
Inside one of the private villas in the resort, Gordon and Jacob had swiftly set up their temporary base of operations. Surveillance equipment was neatly arranged across the tables, while a screen displayed the layout of the entire resort. Here, they would keep a close eye on Ashley and Sherry while blending into the luxurious backdrop of their surroundings.
The evening brought with it a gentle breeze that swept across the balcony of the villa, rustling the leaves of the palm trees outside. Gordon found himself standing there, staring out into the approaching dusk, his thoughts burdened by the prospect of the task ahead.
Jacob joined him, his posture relaxed, a glass of some exotic drink in his hand. "Nervous, Gordon?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.
Gordon shot him a sidelong glance. "I just... I don't agree with this method. It feels wrong."
Jacob chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "You'll get used to it. Besides, we're doing this for Ashley, remember? So she can enjoy her break with her friends, oblivious to the danger lurking around."
Gordon sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face. "Fine. I'll take over Sherry. But you're tailing us in your own body. No more 'fun' at their expense."
Jacob laughed, raising his glass. "Deal. And don't worry, Gordon. I'll be the perfect, invisible shadow. No antics, promise."
The decision to initiate the stealth control came swiftly and without ceremony. In the privacy of their villa, Gordon held the small transmitter, a device no larger than a pocket watch, and connected to the receiver implanted on Sherry. The world swirled around him for a moment, and then, darkness.
When he woke up, he found himself seated at the resort bar, ambient music softly playing in the background. He was now in Sherry's body, her senses his, her world his to navigate. As he came to terms with the transfer, he took a moment to observe his new surroundings.
The air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and tropical drinks, mixed with the salty tang of the nearby ocean. His ears picked up the faint laughter and chatter of other guests, the clinking of glasses, and the distant crash of waves against the shore. It was a sensory overload compared to the quiet solitude of the CBI headquarters, and Gordon had to suppress a wave of vertigo.
Cautiously, he glanced down at his new body. It was strange to see Sherry's slender fingers resting on the bar counter instead of his own callused hands. He could feel the cool, polished surface of the bar under these fingers, the smooth grain of the wood distinct and real.
Sherry was dressed for a night on the town, in a little black dress that shimmered under the warm lighting of the bar. He could feel the soft fabric against his skin, the hemline resting high on his - no, Sherry's - thighs. The sensation of the strappy heels on his feet was new and uncomfortable. It felt like he was walking on stilts, precariously balancing with every step.
Just as he was grappling with the surreal experience, Ashley approached. She was dressed equally stylish, a bright smile on her face as she took the seat next to Sherry's body. "Sherry, you were right! This place is fabulous!"
Keeping up appearances, Gordon forced a smile, trying to mimic Sherry's mean-spirited charm. "Told you, didn't I? Only the best for us, Ash."
Gordon, having assumed the role of Sherry, felt a rush of panic as Ashley, buzzing with youthful exuberance, grabbed his - her - hand. "Let's dance, Sherry!" she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Before Gordon could utter a word of protest, Ashley had pulled him onto the dance floor. The pulsing beat of the music seemed to engulf him, the rhythm a foreign language his body did not speak.
He found himself in the midst of a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, the flashing strobe lights illuminating the dance floor in a frenetic array. The energy was contagious, the crowd swaying and moving as one, but Gordon felt like an intruder in this world. He was an agent, trained to navigate the darkest corners of the world, not a dance floor.
Despite his discomfort, Gordon pushed aside his reservations, trying to mimic the moves of the people around him. He attempted to keep a safe distance from Ashley, but she seemed keen on dancing more intimately, matching the rhythm and closeness of the other dancers.
The heels were another challenge altogether. With each step, he could feel his balance falter. It was a stark contrast to his usual surefootedness in sturdy combat boots. He cursed Jacob under his breath - this was a world he was unprepared for.
To add to his mounting discomfort, the hemline of Sherry's dress seemed determined to defy gravity, riding up with every movement he made. It was a battle to keep pulling it down, all the while trying to maintain his balance and continue the dance.
"I didn't know you were so shy, Sherry," Ashley giggled, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "You usually take the lead."
Gordon laughed, hoping it sounded genuine. "I guess, it's just one of those nights, Ash. Let's just enjoy the music, shall we?"
As the music blared and bodies swayed around him, Gordon realized that he was not just in uncharted territory. He was on a battlefield, far removed from his comfort zone. But, as with all battles, he would adapt and overcome.
As the tempo of the music began to slow down, two men approached them. One was a tall, dark-haired man with a charming smile, while the other had sandy hair and blue eyes that held a hint of mischief. Ashley, ever the social butterfly, eagerly introduced herself and, in a matter of moments, was whisked away to the other side of the dance floor by the dark-haired stranger.
Gordon, still in Sherry's body, was left alone with the sandy-haired man. He was named Chris, a name Gordon committed to memory in case it was needed later. As the man extended his hand to him, inviting him for the slow dance, Gordon felt a pang of unease. This was far from the battlefields he was used to.
As Chris pulled him closer, Gordon felt the distinct discomfort of being in an attractive woman's body. The warmth of the man’s body was uncomfortably intimate, his hand resting at the small of Sherry's back felt invasive, and the smell of his aftershave was too potent, a little too sweet for Gordon's liking.
Gordon forced a smile, playing along with the dance, his body moving in sync with the rhythm. He kept reminding himself that this was all a part of the mission, a necessary discomfort for the greater cause. But, as Chris's hand moved a little too low for Gordon's comfort, he found himself fighting a blush of embarrassment. The feeling was both foreign and unsettling.
"Sherry, you're quite the dancer," Chris murmured, his gaze appreciative, as Gordon tottered around awkwardly in Sherry’s heels.
"I bet you say that to all your girlfriends." Gordon replied in his high pitched voice, trying his best to emulate Sherry's sharp and sassy tone.
__________________
Jacob sat across the room, sipping on a glass of whiskey as he observed the dance floor. His trained eyes scanned the crowd, on the lookout for any signs of danger. But, his attention inevitably strayed to the sight of Gordon, in Sherry's body, tottering about like a newborn lamb on the dance floor.
A smirk spread across Jacob's face, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The usually stern and upstanding Gordon was now attempting to navigate the world of high heels and mini dresses, and from Jacob's perspective, it was a sight to behold.
He watched as Gordon, or rather Sherry, swayed gently to the rhythm of the music, an awkward contrast to the fluid movements of his dancing partner. Jacob stifled a laugh as he saw Gordon struggling to pull the dress down, only for it to rebelliously creep back up.
His gaze then slid to Sherry's legs, an aspect of her appearance he hadn't previously given much thought. The dress, although a source of discomfort for Gordon, did accentuate the length and graceful curve of her legs. A pang of appreciation and regret hit Jacob simultaneously. He couldn't deny that Sherry's body was appealing, yet it brought back a surge of memories from earlier in the day - memories he tried to suppress, but couldn't help revisiting.
Jacob sighed, taking another sip of his whiskey. His smirk morphed into a serious expression as he forced his attention back onto his duty.
Just as Jacob was about to glance back at Gordon, a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He squinted, his gaze zeroing in on a familiar face in the crowd. It was Barbara, the Asian woman from their briefing, her tall and curvy frame immediately recognizable.
His heart pounded a little faster as he noticed her subtly trailing after Ashley, who was now being led away by her dark-haired dance partner. Jacob shot a quick look towards Gordon, who was still entangled in a dance with Chris, completely oblivious to Ashley's movement.
With a roll of his eyes, Jacob pushed away his amusement at Gordon's situation. This was not the time for distractions. He slid off his barstool, leaving his whiskey behind, and started towards Barbara. He blended effortlessly with the crowd, his black suit camouflaging him in the dimly lit room.
As he neared Barbara, he fell into his well-rehearsed pattern of shadowing a target, maintaining a safe distance while keeping her in his line of sight. His hand subtly rested on the small device in his pocket - the stealth control transmitter & receiver pair - just in case he needed it.
Jacob was an expert at this - the stalking, the anticipation. The adrenaline rush was a part of his job he genuinely relished. A predatory smile curled on his lips as he thought of what he might have to do next.
__________________
For Ashley, the evening was a thrilling dance of laughter, flirting, and cocktails. Yet, something was off. Sherry, her usually energetic and vivacious friend, had been acting weird all night. Her antics on the dance floor were one thing, but the occasional stiff body language and the moments of awkward silence were entirely unlike her.
But these concerns paled as she found herself being led off the dance floor by the charming man she'd met earlier. He introduced himself as Tom, and the way he spun her around the dance floor had her head spinning with delight. It was the way he whispered compliments into her ear, his lips brushing against her hair, that kept her enchanted.
However, as they ventured further into the quieter, more secluded parts of the resort, a flicker of apprehension ignited within her. The lights of the dance floor were fading, replaced by the low hum of the backstage area. It felt wrong, almost predatory. Tom, her partner, no longer looked charming but sinister under the harsh backstage lights.
Before Ashley could process her thoughts and voice her concerns, a strong hand clamped around her mouth, silencing her surprised yelp. Her heart hammered in her chest as she was yanked off her feet and into the obscurity of a darkened room. The last sight she caught was that of Tom, a twisted smile playing on his lips as the door shut, plunging her into darkness.
_____________
Jacob swore as he walked off the dance floor, following Barbara’s mesmerising hips. He’d lost track of Ashley. He could have sworn she’d come this way just a moment ago. In a blur of colors and movement, he stopped in his tracks, eyes scanning the crowd in a frantic attempt to spot her. She had vanished. He cursed under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. He'd let himself be distracted by Barbara's tantalizing movements, the hypnotic sway of her hips, the seductive bend of her spine as she moved with the rhythm of the music.
He looked back toward her as she pushed through a door to the backstage area. Those damn beautiful legs, with their thick muscles, silky curves, and glinting steel…
Wait, what?
He squinted. Strapped to Barbara’s thigh, just showing under the bunched up fabric of her dress, was a small, but lethal-looking knife. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Barbara was the assassin they had been warned about.
He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze to remain focused. It was easy to get lost in the appreciation of her form, but the sight of the weapon brought him back to reality. He was not here to admire. He was here to protect.
He watched as Barbara made her way off the dance floor, her gait smooth and purposeful. His gut told him that Ashley was in danger, and he had to act fast. His fingers curled around the receiver in his pocket, ready to make his move. Now was not the time for admiring; now was the time for action.
The door to the backstage area swung shut behind Barbara, separating her from the bustling dance floor. The echo of her exit rumbled in Jacob's ears, setting his adrenaline surging. He'd let Ashley out of his sight once already, and he couldn't let it happen again.
With a newfound determination, Jacob took off after Barbara, his footfalls silent against the resort's plush carpeting. He wove his way through the throng of party-goers, his gaze fixed on the door Barbara had just passed through.
The backstage corridor was a sharp contrast to the vibrant scene they'd left behind. The din of the party was muffled here, replaced by the low hum of equipment and hushed conversations of staff. There, just a few strides away, Barbara moved with a killer's grace, her body coiled like a viper ready to strike.
Taking advantage of her lack of awareness, Jacob made his move. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between them and attached the stealth control receiver to the back of her neck. It adhered with a near-silent click, an unassuming speck on her tanned skin.
A rush of adrenaline swept over him. He was about to step into the shoes of an assassin. He couldn't afford to mess this up. His own body fell into its unresponsive slumber as he activated the transmitter, his consciousness diving into the unknown territory of Barbara's mind and body.
The transfer was instantaneous, like diving headfirst into a cold pool. One moment, Jacob was on the precipice of the transition; the next, he was immersed in the mind and body of an assassin. His first instinct was to familiarize himself with his new form.
Flexing his — no, Barbara's — fingers, he traced the curvaceous lines of her body. The strength beneath the feminine exterior was not lost on him; every curve, every muscle was toned and firm, sculpted by years of disciplined training.
He took a moment to chastise her for her line of work, delivering a firm slap to her cheek. The sensation was jarring. He could feel both the sting of the slap and the tremor that ran through her hand. His lips curled into a smirk at the absurdity of the act.
His gaze traveled downwards, observing the dress that clung to her like a second skin. He raised an eyebrow, taking in the sight of her attractive form. Being in a woman's body was one thing; being in the body of an attractive assassin was an entirely different ballgame.
He quickly pulled out the skin tight dress to stare down into his new cleavage. What was the point of taking over a female form if you couldn’t admire it, anyway? He shook his hips side to side, noticing the strange sensation that his legs were further apart then they should be. He quickly felt between his legs and smirked. He loved being a woman.
Jacob found himself musing about what life might be like for Barbara. How often did she use her beauty as a weapon, ensnaring her targets in a web of desire before delivering the final blow? How did she navigate the world of shadowy figures and deadly contracts while maintaining her femininity? It was a world he was about to explore, albeit temporarily. He only hoped he could navigate it as well as she did.
_____________________
Sherry found herself in the throes of a dance she didn't understand. It was a slow dance, her body swaying rhythmlessly, almost clumsily in a stranger's arms. The guy, a young man with a keen interest in her, had a grip on her that seemed too firm, too persistent. But for reasons unknown, she didn't pull away.
She was usually more composed, her moves fluid and natural. Tonight, though, something was off. Each step she took felt like a struggle, her legs buckling under her as if they had forgotten how to dance. Her signature grace was replaced with an awkwardness that puzzled her. It was as if her body was operating independently, responding to cues that she wasn't consciously giving.
It wasn't just her dance skills that were off, it was her entire perception. She felt detached from her actions, like a spectator in her own body. "What is happening to me?" she thought, as she once again found herself gently brushing down the front of her dress, between her legs, as if something was missing there.
Her eyes flitted around the room, desperately seeking a familiar face. Ashley was nowhere to be seen. A twinge of worry gnawed at her. She considered breaking away from the dance to find her, but her body continued to sway to the rhythm of the song. For the moment, she was trapped in the dance, locked in the arms of a stranger, her concern for Ashley gnawing at the back of her mind.
____________________________
Ashley was trying to keep her calm. Her wrists were bound together with a harsh, biting cord, her body shoved onto a chair in a dim, musty room. The man, who she now knew as Tom, was pacing restlessly in front of her.
Tom had a gruff exterior, his features hardened by what Ashley could only assume were years spent in illicit activities. He was irritated, glancing at the door every few seconds, his grumbles growing louder as time passed.
"Where the hell is she?" Tom growled under his breath, his gaze darting towards the old, rusty clock hanging off-kilter on the wall. The room, which seemed to be some sort of storage area, echoed with the loud ticking of the clock, punctuating the heavy silence that lay between them.
Ashley felt a wave of dread wash over her. She didn't know who they were waiting for, but she was certain that her appearance wouldn't bode well for her. Her mind raced, thoughts whirling in a tornado of fear and anxiety.
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open, revealing the silhouette of a woman. Barbara. Ashley knew her only casually from their classes, but she had always had a cold, distant demeanor. Ashley watched her with wide, fearful eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. Barbara stalked into the room, her eyes glinting dangerously. Tom straightened, a surprised grunt escaping his lips.
"Finally," he growled. "What took you so--"
His sentence was cut off as Barbara lunged at him. It happened so fast that Ashley barely had time to blink. One moment, Tom was standing, the next, he was sprawled on the floor with Barbara on top of him. She moved with a grace and precision that belied her size. Her fists rained down on Tom, and Ashley could hear the dull thud of each punch landing.
Tom fought back, his surprise turning into a snarl of anger. But Barbara – or was it Barbara? - was relentless. It was as if she was a completely different person, her eyes filled with a cold fury that Ashley had never seen before.
There was a crack, a yelp of pain from Tom, and then silence. Barbara rose, leaving Tom lying motionless on the floor. She turned towards Ashley, and for a moment, Ashley's heart seized in terror.
But then, Barbara – no, this couldn’t be Barbara - merely crossed the room to where Ashley sat, her eyes filled with an intensity that made her shiver. Her hands, surprisingly gentle, began to work at the cords binding Ashley. As she was freed, Ashley felt a rush of relief, her mind a whirl of questions.
Who was this woman really? And why had she come to her rescue?
_________________
It was strange. Jacob had been in female bodies before but somehow, controlling Barbara was different. There was a raw, physical power in her, a vitality that felt foreign and exhilarating. He flexed her hands, still tingling from the impact against Tom's face. He had managed to put the brute down, but not without some struggle. Women weren't supposed to be as strong as men, or so Jacob thought, but Barbara was an exception.
At the same time, he was irked. Controlling Barbara’s body had revealed a new set of challenges. Her strength wasn’t the same as his own, particularly his arms. It had taken quite a few punches to deal with Tom, and his knuckles were painful and swelling. As he kneeled to untie Ashley, he felt a pulse of fatigue.
"Who are you?" Ashley stuttered as the ropes loosened.
Jacob paused, a grimace crossing Barbara's face. "It's me, Ashley," he said, trying to infuse Barbara's voice with as much of his own character as possible. "Jacob. I’m using the stealth control tech."
He saw the confusion flicker across Ashley’s face before comprehension dawned on her. Her eyes widened in shock. "Jacob? Really?”
"We’ll have time for questions later," Jacob interrupted, finishing untying her. "Right now, we need to get you out of here."
As he stood up, he once again took a moment to appreciate the body he was controlling. Powerful, agile and, he had to admit, seductive. Barbara was a woman to be reckoned with. If he had his way, he wouldn't mind using this body a bit more.
Jacob felt Ashley stiffen as they approached his own limp body lying unnoticed in the corridor. He hated seeing himself like this - vulnerable and defenseless. It was a risk of the stealth control tech, but a necessary one.
“Jacob?” Ashley’s voice quivered, “Is that… your body?”
“Yeah, it is,” Jacob replied with a curt nod, feeling a grim satisfaction at the shock on Ashley’s face. He let go of her arm and knelt beside his own body. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a spare receiver, a near-invisible piece of technology that was the size of a coin.
"Here, turn around," Jacob instructed, holding the receiver up.
“What are you doing?” Ashley asked, a note of panic edging into her voice as she moved away.
Jacob rose to his feet, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you saw what happened tonight, right? Clearly, you need more protection. This," he said, holding the receiver up, "this will let me keep a closer eye on you."
Ashley looked from the receiver to Jacob’s unconscious body and then back to Barbara, a dawning realization in her eyes. “You want to control me too?”
“Only if necessary,” Jacob replied, his voice firm. “Besides, I did just save your life.”
Ashley hesitated for a moment longer, her gaze darting between Barbara and Jacob’s limp body. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she turned around. As Jacob attached the receiver onto the back of her neck, he could feel her shudder under his touch.
“Don’t worry, Ashley,” Jacob reassured her, “You’re in safe hands.” A grin spread across Barbara’s face as he said it.
“Um… okay.” said Ashley. “I’m going to head back up to my room now. Tell Sherry where I went.”
With that, she scampered away. Was it safe to let her run off by herself like that? Jacob thought. How many times could somebody get kidnapped in one night anyway?
Some part of him said probably more than once, but fuck it. He pushed through the door back into the club.
With Ashley finally off to safety, Jacob turned his attention back to the dance floor. He scanned the throng of gyrating bodies and found Gordon, still looking completely out of sorts in Sherry's body. His movements were clunky and unsure, like a fawn taking its first steps. A smirk played on Jacob's lips as he moved towards him.
As he approached, he saw a group of young men watching Gordon with a mix of amusement and lustful curiosity. "Excuse me, gents," Jacob said in Barbara's sultry voice, sliding between them with an ease that belied his masculine mind.
He reached Gordon and took his hands, leading him onto the dance floor. He could feel Gordon stiffen in surprise but made no attempt to pull away.
"Sherry," Jacob said, grinning mischievously, "you dance like you have two left feet. Let me show you how it's done."
Gordon, looking surprised, stuttered a reply. "Barbara? What are you—"
Jacob silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shh. Dance with me, Sherry."
With that, Jacob led the dance. As Barbara, he moved fluidly, sensually, leading Sherry around the dance floor in a dance that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Jacob revelled in the moment, both in the control he held over the situation and in the pleasure of making Gordon squirm.
As the music swelled, Jacob spun Sherry out and then pulled her back in. Sherry's surprised yelp was swallowed by the cheers of the crowd. Jacob could barely contain his laughter as Gordon, wide-eyed and flushed, stared at him.
The song ended, and Jacob released Gordon, flashing him a smug smile. "That," he said, pointing a finger at Gordon, "is how you dance."
Jacob lowered Barbara’s already sultry voice. “Want to see how you do… something else?”
Sherry’s body stared up at him, eyes wide, and reached a hesitant hand around the side of Barbara’s neck. Jacob felt the fingers explore, settling on the receiver still attached just above the spine.
A look of understanding passed over Sherry’s face, and then she gave a small, subtle nod. Jacob leaned in for a kiss. The frat boys around them cheered.
_______________
Five drinks later, the two agents turned college girls were in each other's arms, sloppily alternating between making out and examining their new bodies.
“I think Sherry is a- a lightweight” giggled Gordon, blushing at the situation. “Here I am, a twenty one year old girl, or a fifty six year old man, or a jesus…”
“I don’t think you’re Jesus,” smirked Jacob. He used Barbara’s hand to fondle one of Sherry’s breasts. “He wasn’t nearly this stacked.”
“Should we… should we…” Gordon started.
“Find somewhere more private? Sure.” Jacob forced himself to his feet, once again admiring the long, feminine legs that stretched out before him.
“I was going to say dis- disengage” grumbled Gordon. “But I think I like your idea better.”
He nearly rolled one of Sherry’s ankles as he stumbled to his feet. He leaned on Barbara’s body as the two of them snuck away from the emptying bar and up to a room.
“You know the best thing about being a girl?” said Gordon drunkenly. “Everybody wants to have sex with you. Tom wanted to have sex with me. Chris wanted to have sex with me. Even hot college girls like Barbara want to have sex with me.”
He fell back onto the bed, rubbing his legs together.
“Evvveeerybody wants to have sex with me. I’m a sex god.”
“I’m not a college girl.” said Jacob, smirking as he took off his dress.
“Assassin, whatever.”
Jacob laughed. He reached underneath Sherry’s dress and pulled down her silk panties.
“And you know the worst part about being a girl? Evvverrrybody wants to have sex with me. What if I don’t want to have sex with them?”
Jacob pawed at one of Sherry's legs, nibbling at her thigh. Gordon mewed at him.
“I don’t get to turn it off. They always want to have sexxxx, even if I don’t want to. Every guy was staaaaaring at me. Half the girls were staring at me.”
Jacob tore off his own underwear and frowned down at his flat crotch. Oh yeah.
“Being a girl suuuuuuccccks. Everybody always wants to have seeeexxx with me.”
“Being a girl sucks alright”, thought Jacob as he drunkenly felt around between his legs. “How the fuck am I meant to have sex without a dick?”
He grunted and stared down at the hot, horny woman that was lying on her back in front of him, so wet it was running onto the sheets. He was so damn turned on. He would have had a throbbing erection if he was in his own body.
He looked down at himself. Past the large, hanging breasts, and to the bare vagina nestled between his thighs. He spread the labia uselessly, growly with frustration as he squinted, trying to see anything but the tiny clit that was pulsing there. It was so damn small. What the fuck was he meant to do with that?
“I’ll be right back,” Jacob growled. Gordon moaned in disappointment and began feeling himself up.
“You’re meant to rub it.” said Gordon, absentmindedly, as he began to use Sherry’s hands on her own body.
Jacob barged out of the door.
________________________________
Sherry was having a hell of a night. First she found she couldn’t dance for shit, next she spent like an hour being felt up by the same uncharming douchebag, and then she got drunk and made out with one of Ashley’s random college friends – Barbara? What was her name?
She stared down at herself, spreadeagled on the bed, horny as she had ever been. Now Barbara had disappeared, god knows where, and she could barely get herself off.
“Ugh!” she moaned in frustration. “This is way harder than it looks!”
She cupped her boob in one hand and tried to stick out her tongue to lick it, but couldn’t reach. Her other hand grabbed at her clit, tugging it up and down like a tiny little dick. Why wasn’t she acting normal? It usually took her two minutes to get off and go to sleep!
“Fuck this!” she huffed and collapsed back onto the bed. She raised her bare legs into the air and stared at them. One leg, two legs, kicking in the air.
She admired her toes as she flexed them about, rubbing one leg up and down the other. She had never really looked at herself like this before, but she had to admit, she had nice legs. She blew a kissy face at them.
“Hellloooo toes,” she chortled.
She moaned again in frustration. She didn’t want to talk to her toes. She wanted to get off! She’d been alternating between horny and frustrated all night – not to mention seemingly fascinated with her own body. What was that all about?
The door burst open.
“Still awake?” came a man’s voice. “It took me a while to sort out Barbara’s body, hand her over to the cops, make sure Ashley was safe, etcetera, etcetera.”
Sherry just stared at him. What the fuck was Jacob doing in her room?
“Nice view, boss.” he said, staring right up at her. Her legs were still raised in the air, her bare nether region exposed. She thought she should maybe cover up, but decided, why not let the perv get a view? Closest someone like him would ever get to her!
Jacob tore his pants off. “Glad you could save it for me.”
“Never tell anybody about this.” Sherry found herself hissing.
“You got it, boss.”
She looked down to see Jacob’s monster member growing before her eyes. She threw her head back and moaned. Maybe she could have sex with him after all? What’s the worst that could happen? Not like she’d been able to do much without him…
“Hurry up! You better be able to get me off in this damn horny body!”
A thick, meaty hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her along the bed. Then she felt a peculiar sensation of something big touching a hole that she had never felt before…
Of course she had felt that before, what was she thinking?
An alien sensation burst through her in little waves as Jacob’s dick entered her. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the sensation that bore through every nerve in her body.
“It feels so good!” she screamed, “and-what-the-fuck-it-feels-so-weird!”
Jacob began thrusting into her. He grabbed her arms and held them down on either side of her. All she could do was gasp as the sensations overwhelmed her body. In out in out in out.
Jacob grunted. “You like that old man? You like that Sherry?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Fuck both of you! I’m the fucking king! What did either of you do tonight for the mission? What have you ever done for me!”
“No- nothing!”
“You like being made a little bitch, don’t you Gordon? Don’t you Sherry!”
Gordon? What the fuck was he talking about? But Sherry didn’t care, she let out a scream.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me Jacob!”
“Cum like you haven’t had sex in a decade, old man!”
“Twenty five years! This is.. My first time… in twenty five years!”
Sherry was talking nonsense, but who cared? Her eyes rolled back in her head. She saw white. Every muscle in her body spasmed, every nerve cried out, she felt a wave slam into her mind, her fists clenched, her toes kicked, her whole body seized up, Jacob’s dick pulsating inside her, spurting deep into her body!
“OH GOOOOODDDDDD”
She collapsed back onto her bed. Jacob pulled out, and they quickly fell asleep.
______________________________
The next morning, Jacob was having a coffee outside the control room when Gordon, his old body looking tired and sore, grumbled his way out of the sleeping quarters.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word.”
Jacob smirked, and that was that.
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Hi there! I'm a 23-year-old woman, renting out my body to pay for medical school. I work with an agency that uses neuralink implants to let my renters see through my eyes, control my actions, and essentially live in my skin while I'm unconscious. Once their session is over, I wake up without any recollection of what they've done. It's like I was asleep or in a coma, but meanwhile my body was up and about doing things. The industry calls us 'bodies for rent' or 'meatsuits', though some of us prefer to be known as 'surrogates'.
I let people rent my meatsuit (and I can’t remember it) AMA
Hi there! I'm a 23-year-old woman, renting out my body to pay for medical school. I work with an agency that uses neuralink implants to let my renters see through my eyes, control my actions, and essentially live in my skin while I'm unconscious. Once their session is over, I wake up without any recollection of what they've done. It's like I was asleep or in a coma, but meanwhile my body was up and about doing things. The industry calls us 'bodies for rent' or 'meatsuits', though some of us prefer to be known as 'surrogates'.
It sounds scary, but it's completely safe, regulated, and - dare I say it - kinda fun. Let's get into all the gritty realities of the renting industry. Ask me anything!
How does it feel when you wake up after being 'rented'? Any physical fatigue?
Great question! It's a bit like waking up from a deep sleep. There's a period of disorientation, but that clears up quickly. As for physical fatigue, it depends on what my body has been doing. If my renter had been doing strenuous activities, then yes, I might feel a little worn out.
Aren't you afraid that someone might misuse your body?
That's a common concern, but the industry has safeguards in place. Renters sign contracts agreeing not to harm the body or engage in illegal activities. Plus, there's constant monitoring by a neutral third party during the rental period. If anything suspicious happens, they can shut down the session.
How much can you make in this business?
It varies depending on factors like the duration of the session, what the renter plans to do, and even the desirability of the surrogate. I make a comfortable amount, enough to pay my medical school tuition and living expenses.
Can you sense anything while being rented? Any kind of dreams?
Not at all. It's like being in a very deep sleep, without dreams. I wake up completely blank, with no memory or sensation from the rental period.
Do people ever have sex or masturbate when they rent you?
Yes, of course, it’s part of the job. I basically expect more often than not to have the renter touch me. It’s not as bad as it sounds – it’s basically my hand doing it, after all. Sometimes I feel a little sore after – especially when I’m rented by guys, who tend to be a bit less gentle with my body – but nothing serious.
Do your friends and family know about this? How do they feel?
Yes, they know, and it took some time for them to understand. They were concerned at first, but they've seen how regulated and safe it is, and how it's helping me achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. So, they're supportive now!
How did you get into this business?
I stumbled upon an advertisement and was intrigued. I did my research, understood the risks and benefits, and decided it was a viable way to finance my medical studies. And here I am!
Any advice for someone considering becoming a surrogate?
Do your homework. Understand the pros and cons. Consider the physical and mental aspects - remember, your body might be doing things you're not used to. Also, ensure you're working with a reputable company. There are sketchy operators out there.
What was your most memorable experience after waking up from a rental period?
There was this one time when I woke up in a beautiful dress, covered in glitter and glam, standing in the middle of what seemed to be a high-end fashion event. The smooth silk of the dress hugged my body, contrasting starkly against the cold, air-conditioned atmosphere of the venue. The dress was a stunning shade of midnight blue, matching the color of my eyes, and it was sprinkled with silver glitters, twinkling as they caught the spotlights. High heels elongated my petite frame, although they made my feet ache a bit. People were clapping and cheering, and I had this feeling of exhilaration that lingered even after the confusion had passed.
The aroma of rich perfume and champagne wafted through the air, and my lips tasted faintly of a delicate canapé. My hands were a little shaky from the adrenaline, and I felt the cool touch of a glass of bubbly in my right hand. I could tell by the appreciative eyes and stunned silence that my renter had just pulled off a fantastic runway walk.
I felt strangely empowered, stepping out of my usual comfort zone of t-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes, into this glamorous world of fashion, something I'd never dare to do on my own. The moment felt almost surreal, like a scene straight out of a movie. I loved the feeling of confidence, of owning the room. Even though it wasn't me who had strutted down the catwalk, a small part of that boldness lingered, reminding me of my own potential.
Have you ever felt violated or uneasy after a rental session?
Yes, there have been moments of discomfort. One time, I woke up in a very crowded place, in the middle of a music festival. I’m a bit of an introvert, so waking up in such a noisy, chaotic environment was quite jarring. My body was adorned in a loose crop top, denim shorts, and a floral headband – typical festival attire, but it felt strange since I usually prefer more conservative clothing. My hair, normally tied up in a neat bun, was let loose and felt messy with dried sweat and probably some beer someone had spilled.
I could still feel the throb of the loud music in my ears, the vibrations settling into my body, like a low hum beneath my skin. My feet ached from dancing, my throat was parched, and there was a residual taste of beer and cheap festival food on my tongue. My hands were stained with neon paint, evidence of the craziness of the night. The faint smell of sweat, alcohol, and smoke clung to my skin, making me feel a bit dirty.
I remember feeling lost and out of place among the sea of enthusiastic festival-goers. Although the monitors had ended the rental as soon as I started to regain consciousness, the sudden shift from unconscious tranquility to overwhelming sensory stimulation was a shock. I felt a twinge of unease, realizing how vulnerable I was during these rentals, but it also reminded me of the importance of trust in this profession.
Have you ever considered renting out your body for more extended periods, like a week or a month?
I've given it some thought, but there are practical and emotional challenges to consider. Physically, the neuralink is designed for shorter periods – up to 24 hours. So, waking up in the same clothes I wore a day ago is common, sometimes with minor changes like a different pair of shoes or an added accessory. My body, toned from regular exercise and yoga, would handle the physical strain quite well, but there is a limit to how long the technology can keep my consciousness suppressed. The device needs to be recharged, and my body needs rest and rejuvenation.
Emotionally, there's a strange intimacy in sharing my body for such extended periods. Every time I wake up after a rental, it's as though a veil is lifted from my eyes. There's a brief moment of disorientation, like a foggy morning, where I'm not quite sure where I am or what has happened. My fingers would glide over the fabric of my clothes, tracing the alien feel of a shirt or a dress that I didn’t remember putting on. There's a rush of sensations, the leftover smells of where my renter has been, the lingering tastes on my tongue, and the physical echoes of their activities.
Imagine that feeling extended for a week or a month. Imagine the shift in my daily routines, my eating habits, and my social interactions. My body would live a life that my mind wasn't a part of. As it stands, the rental periods are already a leap of faith, a testament to my trust in the technology, the system, and the people who rent me. Prolonging the rental period only escalates the implications.
However, the notion isn't without its appeal. I could potentially earn more, and it might provide a unique opportunity for me to experience different lives. But for now, the constraints outweigh the benefits. I've chosen to prioritize my sense of self, my personal boundaries, and the preservation of my own life experiences.
Do you have any plans for after medical school? Will you continue to be a surrogate?
Once I'm done with medical school, I plan to specialize in neurology. Being a surrogate has given me an intriguing perspective on how our brain functions and how advanced technology like neuralink can integrate with it. I'm eager to dive deeper, to understand the complex mysteries of our brains. My body, though petite and young, has become a fascinating landscape for my academic curiosity. Each pulse in my veins, every breath I take, has become a testament to the marvels of human biology and technology intertwined.
As for continuing as a surrogate, it's unlikely. Once I start my practice, my focus will be on my patients. I won’t have the time, or the emotional bandwidth, to lend my body to others. Plus, there's a certain comfort in the idea of regaining exclusive ownership of my body. To wake up in my bed, in my clothes, knowing that whatever memories I have from the previous day are my own, sounds incredibly comforting after a few years of sharing it with people.
There's a strange satisfaction in being a surrogate. It's not just about the money, although that's a significant factor. It's about providing a service, allowing people to experience life from a different perspective. There's a sense of pride, of fulfillment, in knowing that my body can help fulfill someone else's dream or desire, even if I don't remember any of it. So, while I look forward to focusing on my medical career, I'll always cherish the experiences and insights I've gained as a surrogate.
Ever stumbled upon photos or videos of yourself from a rental session you don't remember?
Yes, it's happened on more than one occasion. There's something strangely unnerving about seeing photos or videos of yourself in action, knowing that you don’t remember a single moment of it.
The first time this happened, I was scrolling through social media when I found a picture of myself at a charity marathon. My usually fair complexion was flushed with exertion, sweat glinting on my forehead, my blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, strands sticking to my moist skin. The tight runner’s outfit clung to my petite frame, accentuating my toned muscles, highlighting my runner's posture. In the photo, I was crossing the finish line, arms in the air, a picture of triumph and satisfaction.
Seeing myself there, the exuberance on my face, the sheer exhilaration in my wide, bright eyes was surreal. It felt like looking at a doppelganger or a twin, someone who shared my body, my face, but lived experiences that I didn’t remember. It was as if this 'other me' had successfully completed a marathon, something I'd never done. It was a bizarre mixture of pride and confusion, seeing a triumphant moment that I had no recollection of.
There were a few other times that it happened – one in particular was pretty creepy – but there’s no rule against it right now, so, you know.
Have you ever confronted a renter about the things they've done while renting your body?
I’ve never directly confronted a renter, but there have been times when I've requested the agency to talk to them. Once, I found a video of myself eating a tarantula at a food festival. My stomach churned as I watched 'me' in the video, sporting a wide grin, taking a big bite of the deep-fried spider, savoring the crunch with evident delight.
I remembered feeling a bizarre disconnect as I watched my own fingers delicately holding the spider, the crunch echoing in my ears as I bit down, the sound so vivid, it felt real. My heart pounded as my face on the screen twisted into an expression of joy and satisfaction, my blue eyes twinkling with daring and adventure. The image haunted me, even when I had closed my eyes, the back of my eyelids mirroring the ghastly sight. The discomfort was so intense that I had to reach out to the agency, reminding them of my arachnophobia and the importance of renters respecting the surrogate's personal boundaries.
The process was quite straightforward, actually. The agency assured me they would remind the renter of the rules. The interesting (and perhaps, unnerving) part of this whole situation was the realization of how much control I had surrendered. While I was tucked safely away in the realm of unconsciousness, my body was out there, in the world, engaging in activities I’d never imagine doing in a conscious state. It brought up a mix of feelings – a tad of unease, a hint of exhilaration, and an odd sense of curiosity about what my body is capable of when untethered from my conscious mind.
It was unsettling to find a video of myself doing something that was so contradictory to my personality. Yet, it was also an opportunity for me to face my fear, albeit in a roundabout way. It didn't cure my arachnophobia, but it did make me question how much of our fears are mental barriers. It was like staring at a reflection of what I could potentially be, unbound by personal fears or biases. And in a twisted way, it was liberating.
Although I don’t wish for a repeat of such experiences, these instances have pushed me to reflect on myself and consider my perceptions. They've nudged me out of my comfort zone and made me realize the extraordinary adaptability of the human mind and body. And for that, I am oddly grateful.
Have you ever found provocative photos of yourself from a rental session? How did you react?
Yes, I have. One incident that particularly stands out was when I stumbled upon a series of photos of me dressed as a 'catgirl' at what seemed to be a cosplay event.
In these images, I was dressed in a black, form-fitting bodysuit that hugged my petite figure, accentuating my curves. Ears pointed upwards were attached to a headband on my blonde hair, which was styled into playful, loose curls. A long, fluffy tail was clipped onto the back of the bodysuit, and a mischievous smirk played on my face. My eyes were highlighted with dramatic, catlike makeup, and I had a delicate, diamond-shaped nose and whiskers painted on. Completing the look were long, black gloves and boots, adding a certain allure to the whole ensemble.
Seeing myself in this provocative outfit was an unnerving experience. I've always been more of a modest dresser, preferring comfort and functionality over fashion or trends. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked at the photos. My cheeks, usually fair, turned a deep shade of red, my body reacting to the shock and embarrassment even though my mind was still trying to process what it was seeing.
Despite the initial shock, I had to admire the artistry involved. The attention to detail in the costume and makeup was impeccable. My body looked confident, empowered, even seductive - a stark contrast to my usual demeanor. There was an undeniable beauty in the images that I couldn't ignore, a transformation so complete that it was hard to believe it was me.
Although this incident did make me feel uncomfortable, it also forced me to confront my own perceptions of my body and my sexuality. It showed me a version of myself that I had never considered before, pushing me to reassess my boundaries and my comfort zones.
These photos served as a reminder of how diverse and varied human experiences can be, and how our bodies can be a canvas for different forms of expression. It wasn't an easy experience, but it was a learning opportunity for me. Since then, I've become more open-minded, learning to embrace the unexpected and finding beauty in all forms of self-expression.
What's the most bizarre situation you've found yourself in after a rental session?
One of the most bizarre situations I've woken up to was when I found myself at a beach party, covered in chocolate, and wearing a bikini.
The moment my consciousness resurfaced, I was greeted by the smell of salt and sunscreen, underscored by the sweet scent of melted chocolate. My skin felt sticky, and as I glanced down, I saw my petite body donned in a vibrant red bikini, smothered with chocolate sauce. The droplets were scattered like modern art across the soft, fair skin of my abdomen, my arms, and even my legs. The sunlight glinted off the slick coating, giving me an oddly shiny appearance.
Around me, people were laughing and cheering, music blaring from nearby speakers. The party seemed to be in full swing, the beach lined with young people engaged in various activities - some were playing beach volleyball, others were tanning, sipping cocktails, or dancing to the lively music. A makeshift stage had been set up nearby, and it seemed like I had just participated in a chocolate-themed competition.
The sandy grit beneath my feet, the comforting warmth of the sun on my chocolate-covered skin, the riotous noise of the party, all contributed to a sensory overload. But amidst the chaos, there was also an underlying feeling of exhilaration and freedom, a giddy aftertaste of what seemed to have been a wild and enjoyable event.
Despite the initial shock, a part of me couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. There was something incredibly surreal and yet comically charming about it. Extracting myself from the party, I made my way towards the sea, intending to wash off the chocolate and to reclaim a sense of normalcy. As the cool waves lapped against my legs, I remember feeling a renewed sense of appreciation for my unusual job. While it occasionally landed me in sticky situations (quite literally in this case), it also made for some truly unforgettable experiences.
Have you ever found photos taken by a renter afterwards, anything embarrassing?
Oh, you have no idea. There was this one time when I woke up to find a series of pictures on my phone that left me both amused and perplexed.
The first photo showed me in a bright yellow chicken costume. My usually petite and slender figure was enveloped in a fluffy, oversized suit, complete with a red plume on top. My face, usually serene or focused, was contorted into a comical squawk, my mouth wide open, my eyes squeezed shut in exaggerated expression.
Next, I found a picture of myself wearing a pair of oversized glasses, their frames so large they covered half my face, my blue eyes appearing comically magnified. A fluorescent green wig was placed haphazardly on my head, strands of synthetic hair falling over my forehead. My lips were stretched into a goofy grin, my cheeks dimpled with laughter.
The photo parade continued with me donning an array of humorous costumes – a pirate with a plastic hook, a faux fur-lined onesie of a unicorn, a clown with a red nose and oversized shoes. In each photo, I was making different faces - there was a mock-scared expression, a wide-eyed surprise, a faux-angry scowl, and many more.
A couple got a little bit more lewd. There were a few, um, revealing selfies in the mix – one where they’d stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes back in a pretty stupid looking way. And one really embarrassing one where they were basically naked and cupping my boobs for the camera. I did have a word with the agency after that one – the renters aren’t meant to do that.
Does your body ever feel different when you return to it? Like, sore, worn out, used differently?
Absolutely, my body often feels different when I return to it after a rental session. It’s almost like getting reacquainted with a familiar yet slightly altered space.
One instance that particularly stands out was after a renter who was evidently a dance enthusiast had used my body. I woke up in a dance studio, my reflection mirrored in the wall-length mirror. My petite frame was dressed in a flowing, practice skirt and a snug-fitting top. My blonde hair, usually worn down, was pulled up into a tight, professional bun.
When I moved, I felt a certain soreness in my muscles that I wasn’t used to. It was clear that my body had been stretching and moving in ways that were unfamiliar. My calves throbbed slightly, hinting at an intense session of pointe work. My shoulders and back felt looser, likely the result of expressive modern dance movements.
Despite the soreness, there was also an underlying sense of satisfaction. I could tell that my body had been put through a substantial, yet enjoyable workout. As I moved, I could feel a fluidity in my motions, a rhythm that seemed to resonate in my muscles. It was as if my body had picked up a faint echo of the dance, a lingering melody imprinted in the way I moved.
In these moments, my body sometimes feels like an instrument that has been played beautifully and then set aside. There’s a feeling of having been ‘used’ – not in a negative sense, but in the way that a well-loved book is used, its pages turned carefully, its spine bearing the imprints of a reader's hands. There’s a sense of having been part of someone else’s story, even if just for a while.
So wait, you wake up in random positions after each session? What happens if you don't know how to get home after, haha
Haha, yes, I do wake up in different places following a rental session, but it's not as chaotic as it sounds.
Renters are required to ensure I'm in a safe environment before the rental period ends. This rule is strictly enforced by the agency, ensuring that I don't wake up in dangerous or compromising situations. The location can be anywhere - a park, a café, a shopping mall, even a dance studio, as I mentioned in an earlier response. But whatever the location, safety is paramount.
As for getting back home, that's rarely been a problem. My phone is always with me, and it has all the necessary apps and information for navigation. Plus, we live in an era where rideshares are just a few taps away.
However, there was this one time when I woke up in a botanical garden. It was early evening, the setting sun casting long, golden shadows around me. I was seated on a park bench, amidst a riot of colorful flowers and lush greenery. A gentle breeze was playing with my blonde curls, carrying the scent of earth and blooming roses. The tranquillity of the scene was almost meditative.
Despite not immediately recognizing the place, a quick check on my phone showed it to be within the city limits. Instead of rushing home, I decided to take my time exploring the garden, reveling in the unexpected treat. It was a refreshing change of pace from my usual, fast-paced life. Moments like these make the unpredictable nature of my work not just tolerable, but sometimes surprisingly rewarding.
Do people ever... you know... need to use the toilet when you're being rented?
That's a part of the reality not often talked about, isn't it? Yes, biological needs don't stop during a rental session. The human body, including mine, continues to function as usual - this includes needing to use the toilet.
However, I must assure you that the agency has regulations in place to ensure that renters deal with such situations appropriately. Before a rental session, every renter is thoroughly briefed about treating the body with respect and maintaining personal hygiene.
The first time I woke up in a restroom, I must admit it was a bit disconcerting. I was in a posh restaurant's restroom, staring at my reflection in a tastefully framed mirror. My body was dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress, my blonde hair swept into an intricate updo. My usually bare face had a dash of makeup - a subtle smoky eye and a soft pink lip color.
What startled me was not the environment, but the stark realisation of the intimacy that the rental process implied. In that moment I understood that my renters weren't just walking in my shoes; they were living in my skin. It brought a level of humility and vulnerability that took me a while to get used to.
Over time, however, I've come to terms with it. It's a part of the job, as mundane as it might sound. And it underscores the fact that even when dressed up for an elegant evening out, the human body has its fundamental needs that don't pause for anyone, renter or otherwise. It's a humbling reminder of our shared biology, stripping away the glamour and bringing us down to the basics of existence.
Wait, you woke up in a restroom? Why did they take your body somewhere else before dismounting? Did something go wrong?
It's an interesting question, and to be honest, each rental experience can be quite unique, including where I regain consciousness.
In the case of the restroom scenario, nothing actually went wrong. Renters are advised to ensure I'm in a safe and private location before the rental period ends. In this particular case, I suspect the renter wanted to ensure privacy at the moment of dismounting, which is why they chose a restroom – I suppose they didn’t want to waste their rental minutes walking back through the city.
When I regained consciousness, I was in the ladies' room. Despite the initial disorientation, the transition was smooth. I was safe, and as per the regulations, my dignity and privacy were maintained.
In such circumstances, it's vital to maintain composure and confidence, which is something I've learned with experience. While it can feel strange to navigate these post-rental situations, it's also a fascinating exploration of human behavior and norms. It's like jumping into the middle of a movie and trying to figure out the plot. And in a strange way, that's part of the appeal for me. It keeps life interesting.
What happens to the renter's bodies while they control yours?
While the renters are controlling my body, their own bodies are in a state of neural stasis, almost akin to being in a deep sleep or a coma. The Neuralink technology takes over the function of their neural signals, effectively allowing their consciousness to be projected into my body. However, their bodies do require care during this time, which is where the agency comes in.
The agency has a specialized facility where renters' bodies are looked after during the rental period. They're kept in a safe, controlled environment, with continuous monitoring of vital signs to ensure their physical well-being. Medical professionals are always on standby to intervene if any health concerns arise.
I once had the chance to visit this facility. It was a rather surreal experience, seeing rows of bodies lying still, as if in a peaceful sleep. The room was bathed in a soft, soothing light, the air regulated to maintain an optimal temperature. The silence was punctuated by the occasional beep of a heart monitor, lending a rhythmic undertone to the tranquility.
It felt oddly serene, each body representing a person exploring the world in a different form. I remember standing there, thinking about the paradox of the situation - the quiet, unmoving bodies and the vibrant, active minds experiencing life through rented bodies.
This level of care gives me peace of mind, knowing that my renters are taken care of while they're renting my body. It also underscores the mutual trust inherent in this process - while they trust me with their consciousness, I trust them with my body, all the while knowing that we both are in safe hands.
I couldn't imagine doing that work. What if someone made you do something illegal! Or creepy!
While there are thorough safeguards in place to prevent misuse of the rental service, there was one instance that gave me quite a bit of a scare. It's an interesting story about a renter who got too attached to the rental experience and crossed some boundaries.
This individual, let's call him John, had rented my body a few times, and initially, everything seemed fine. However, over time, his behavior started to become problematic. He began requesting my body more frequently, and started leaving me in places that were meaningful to him - his favorite coffee shop, the park where he used to play as a child, and once even outside his apartment.
It was disorienting and unnerving to say the least. Waking up outside John's apartment was particularly alarming. It was late at night, and the street was bathed in the harsh, white glow of the streetlights. I was dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, my hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The quiet, residential area felt foreign and eerily silent, the only sound being the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze.
I started receiving messages from John too, filled with sentiments that were too intimate, too personal. It was as if he was confusing me with someone he knew closely or someone he wished to be close with. The messages made me uncomfortable, their tone straying from friendly to obsessive.
Then he began sending me photographs - selfies he had taken while renting my body. In each of these images, my body was in various scenarios, some casual, others more intimate.
One of the first pictures was of 'me' at his favorite coffee shop, sipping on a caramel latte. The backdrop was familiar to me - the vintage posters on the wall, the warm, wooden interior of the café. My body was casually dressed, a cozy sweater hugging my petite frame, my blonde hair tumbling over my shoulders. It was as if he had taken me on a casual, coffee date.
At first, I found it a bit amusing, even endearing. Here was a man so taken by the experience of renting my body that he wanted to share his moments with me. It was a new angle to the renting experience that I hadn't considered before - the renter wanting to connect on a more personal level.
As more photographs followed, the tone of them started to change. There was one where 'I' was standing on the edge of a rooftop, the city lights glittering in the background. My body, clad in a fitting leather jacket and ripped jeans, seemed to emanate an air of recklessness that was not me. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to the earlier, cozy coffee shop picture.
Some photos of my feet came next, which was kind of odd, and then my own face making a kissy face at the camera. Ugh. Then came the intimate ones - a picture of 'me' lounging on a bed, dressed in a silk nightgown, a soft smile playing on 'my' lips. The familiarity of the scenario, coupled with the knowledge that it wasn't truly me, left me with an uncomfortable feeling, a breach of privacy that was hard to ignore.
That's when it dawned on me that this was more than just a renter enjoying his experiences - it was veering into an obsessive territory. I could see John blurring the lines between the rented experience and real connection, transforming the relationship into something it was not supposed to be.
Things took a turn for the more disturbing when I received a video from John.
I remember when the notification popped up on my phone, it was late at night, and I was just wrapping up some study session. Intrigued and admittedly a little apprehensive, I clicked on the message.
The video was a selfie, but not just any selfie – it was John, renting my body, talking directly into the camera. He’s dressed me in a guy’s business shirt, boxers, and nothing else. The shirt was unbuttoned, and you could see my bare breasts underneath, pretty much totally exposed.
He was sat outside on a park bench, legs spread, leaning back with a smirk. He winked at the camera, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before launching into a monologue. The topics were all over the place - he shared his thoughts on books he liked, mused about our supposed 'connection', even hinted at plans he had for future rentals. His gestures were expressive, my hands moving animatedly as he spoke, the sunlight bouncing off the silver watch wrapped around his wrist. The watch was his, I’d never seen it before.
Throughout the video, he wore a knowing smile that was a clear departure from my typical expressions. It was chillingly intimate, uncomfortably personal. Here was a man who seemed to be under the delusion that he was developing a personal, almost romantic relationship with me, despite the starkly impersonal nature of our interaction.
Watching that video, it became clear to me that I needed to act. His delusions, his growing obsession was not just disturbing but potentially dangerous. It was then that I decided to report him to the agency. Despite the uncomfortable circumstances, I take solace in knowing that the system worked as it should, ensuring safety and enforcing boundaries when necessary. It served as a stark reminder of the potential risks and oddities I might face in my unique line of work.
Do renters take care of you? Like, do they eat properly? Exercise?
While renters are usually respectful, it's important to remember that for them, renting a body is often seen as a kind of vacation or escape from their own lives. As such, they might not stick to the same kind of diet and exercise routines I typically do.
There have been times when I've woken up to the remnants of a food binge - empty pizza boxes, chocolate wrappers, ice cream tubs - the works. It's amusing in a way, a clear indication of the renter letting loose and enjoying their 'time off'. I've found myself in the middle of a carnival, the sweet scent of cotton candy lingering on my tongue, or sometimes at an upscale restaurant, the remnants of a steak dinner still on the plate.
Exercise, unfortunately, doesn't seem to be a priority for most renters. Understandably, hitting the gym or going for a run might not be their idea of a fun time while renting someone else's body. As a result, I have to put in the extra work to maintain my fitness and health.
It's an interesting trade-off - I get to pay for medical school, and they get to take a break from their own lives, diets, and routines. It does add an extra layer of challenge to my life, but it's one I've grown accustomed to. I've learned to appreciate the workout sessions, the way my muscles ache after a good run or the soothing burn of a yoga routine. It's a part of my life that's wholly mine, a piece of routine and normalcy amidst the chaotic nature of my job.
At the end of the day, it's about understanding and accepting that my body is shared space. I do my best to provide a fit, healthy body for my renters to use, and in return, they give me the means to chase my dreams.
Hey meatsuitAMA, ever woke up with a badass tattoo that you didn't remember getting?
Ha! Luckily, no! The agency's pretty strict about that stuff - no permanent changes to the body, and that includes tattoos. Although, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what kind of ink a renter might choose.
Do you ever feel like you're missing out on your own life?
Damn, you're getting deep on me, aren't ya? It's a trip, no doubt. I mean, one minute I'm me, next I'm catching up on the shenanigans some renter got up to. But hey, at least I'm missing out on my life for a good cause, right? And who knows, maybe one day I'll wake up with a Nobel Prize because some renter used my body to solve quantum physics or something!
So, what if a renter decides to go skydiving or bungee jumping?
Well, they're supposed to stick to a set of ground rules, and extreme sports is a big no-no. But honestly? If someone secretly went skydiving with my body, I'd be pissed I missed out on the thrill! But for real, don't do that, future renters. I don't want my heart giving out at 22.
Are you ever scared of not getting your body back?
Haha, you know how to keep a girl up at night. But no, the tech's solid, and I trust the agency. But you bet your ass I've had some nightmares about that. If my body goes on a world tour without me, I better at least get a postcard.
Do your friends or family know about your job?
Well, mom knows, and she wasn't thrilled, let me tell ya. Tried to get me to consider waitressing or something. But my pals think it's pretty cool. And it's one hell of an ice breaker at parties. Imagine - "Hey, I'm meatsuitAMA, I rent out my body for a living. Pass the chips?"
What happens if the renter gets drunk or high?
Don't get me started. I basically wake up in whatever condition they leave me in. This one time, I woke up on a bed made of candy wrappers and empty bottles. My head is pounding, and I'm pretty sure I can still taste tequila. The renter had a full-on party, got sloshed, and binged on candy.
It wasn’t my best wake-up call, I’ll tell ya that much. Had to down a gallon of water and pop a few aspirins just to stop the world from spinning. And I was finding candy wrappers in my clothes for days after!
Have you ever been rented by someone famous?
Okay, I can’t reveal names ‘cause privacy and all that jazz, but holy crap, yes! And it was wild! Woke up in this swanky hotel suite, there's room service on the table, and I'm wearing designer gear head to toe. Even found a selfie with a major celeb on my phone. They were on a secret vacation or something. Crazy, right?
What about romantic stuff? Ever wake up with a partner next to you?
Sure, it's happened. I woke up once cuddling another sleeping lady, and I was wearing this cute red dress pulled up around my waist. There were rose petals everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. Took me hours to clean up. Turns out the renter had a long-distance relationship, wanted to surprise their partner. Sweet, but talk about awkward for me!
Have you ever woken up eating something really weird?
Haha, well, get ready for this. Once, I woke up in a chilli eating competition. I kid you not, I was in the middle of chewing this nuclear-level hot chilli. My eyes were watering, my throat was burning, and I was sweating like I just ran a marathon. My lips were stained a bright red from the chilli, and I could feel the heat radiating off my tongue, my entire mouth felt like it was on fire.
I was wearing this ridiculous chilli-shaped hat and a bib with "Chilli Queen" printed on it. It took every ounce of my control not to spit out the chilli right then and there. With tears streaming down my face, I somehow managed to swallow the damn thing, then proceeded to drink about a gallon of milk straight from the jug.
Let's just say, the after-effects were...not pleasant. And that's the last time I ever want to be part of a chilli eating competition!
Do people ever rent you for physical labor or things like that?
It happens sometimes. I hadn’t thought it would ahead of time – who would want my body to do manual labour, I can lift like, two bricks on a good day. But it turns out there’s so few bodies available at any given time, sometimes there are shortages, and they just want more hands on site.
Once I woke up in a construction site wearing those baggy, heavy duty work clothes, you know the kind, and a hard hat. There were smudges of dirt on my hands and face, and my muscles ached like I'd been lifting weights all day. The work gloves were still on my hands, and I could feel the rough material chafing against my skin. The boots were a bit too large for my feet, and I had to be careful not to trip over anything.
Apparently, the renter was a contractor from the other side of the country. The agency assures me that they ensure safety measures for such rentals, but I still found it a bit weird. But hey, I guess it’s a way for people to get their work done :/.
What are the most common reasons people rent your body?
Good question! It's a mixed bag, honestly. Sometimes it's for the experience of being a petite woman, which is kinda weird but hey, to each their own. Other times they want to use me like a canvas. I woke up once in a room filled with wigs and makeup. I was wearing this professional grade makeup, you know, the kind you see on models during fashion week.
I’m talking glittery eye shadow that matched the exact color of my eyes, perfectly applied red lipstick that made my lips look fuller, and a rosy blush that gave my cheeks a healthy glow. The fake eyelashes were a bit annoying though. Every blink felt heavy, and my eyes were watering a bit from the glue.
I later found out that the renter was a makeup artist. They had used my face as a canvas to practice new makeup techniques. I gotta say, it felt pretty cool walking around looking like I stepped straight out of a beauty magazine.
Other people might rent me to explore the city, like for travel and tourism things. Sometimes I'm rented for people to go to meetings or hangouts long distance. Occasionally it seems to be just a sex thing -- girls (or even guys, idk) renting me to have fun on the town -- which I'm less keen on, but as long as they take it easy.
I let people rent my meatsuit (and I can’t remember it) AMA
Hi there! I'm a 23-year-old woman, renting out my body to pay for medical school. I work with an agency that uses neuralink implants to let my renters see through my eyes, control my actions, and essentially live in my skin while I'm unconscious. Once their session is over, I wake up without any recollection of what they've done. It's like I was asleep or in a coma, but meanwhile my body was up and about doing things. The industry calls us 'bodies for rent' or 'meatsuits', though some of us prefer to be known as 'surrogates'.
It sounds scary, but it's completely safe, regulated, and - dare I say it - kinda fun. Let's get into all the gritty realities of the renting industry. Ask me anything!
How does it feel when you wake up after being 'rented'? Any physical fatigue?
Great question! It's a bit like waking up from a deep sleep. There's a period of disorientation, but that clears up quickly. As for physical fatigue, it depends on what my body has been doing. If my renter had been doing strenuous activities, then yes, I might feel a little worn out.
Aren't you afraid that someone might misuse your body?
That's a common concern, but the industry has safeguards in place. Renters sign contracts agreeing not to harm the body or engage in illegal activities. Plus, there's constant monitoring by a neutral third party during the rental period. If anything suspicious happens, they can shut down the session.
How much can you make in this business?
It varies depending on factors like the duration of the session, what the renter plans to do, and even the desirability of the surrogate. I make a comfortable amount, enough to pay my medical school tuition and living expenses.
Can you sense anything while being rented? Any kind of dreams?
Not at all. It's like being in a very deep sleep, without dreams. I wake up completely blank, with no memory or sensation from the rental period.
Do people ever have sex or masturbate when they rent you?
Yes, of course, it’s part of the job. I basically expect more often than not to have the renter touch me. It’s not as bad as it sounds – it’s basically my hand doing it, after all. Sometimes I feel a little sore after – especially when I’m rented by guys, who tend to be a bit less gentle with my body – but nothing serious.
Do your friends and family know about this? How do they feel?
Yes, they know, and it took some time for them to understand. They were concerned at first, but they've seen how regulated and safe it is, and how it's helping me achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. So, they're supportive now!
How did you get into this business?
I stumbled upon an advertisement and was intrigued. I did my research, understood the risks and benefits, and decided it was a viable way to finance my medical studies. And here I am!
Any advice for someone considering becoming a surrogate?
Do your homework. Understand the pros and cons. Consider the physical and mental aspects - remember, your body might be doing things you're not used to. Also, ensure you're working with a reputable company. There are sketchy operators out there.
What was your most memorable experience after waking up from a rental period?
There was this one time when I woke up in a beautiful dress, covered in glitter and glam, standing in the middle of what seemed to be a high-end fashion event. The smooth silk of the dress hugged my body, contrasting starkly against the cold, air-conditioned atmosphere of the venue. The dress was a stunning shade of midnight blue, matching the color of my eyes, and it was sprinkled with silver glitters, twinkling as they caught the spotlights. High heels elongated my petite frame, although they made my feet ache a bit. People were clapping and cheering, and I had this feeling of exhilaration that lingered even after the confusion had passed.
The aroma of rich perfume and champagne wafted through the air, and my lips tasted faintly of a delicate canapé. My hands were a little shaky from the adrenaline, and I felt the cool touch of a glass of bubbly in my right hand. I could tell by the appreciative eyes and stunned silence that my renter had just pulled off a fantastic runway walk.
I felt strangely empowered, stepping out of my usual comfort zone of t-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes, into this glamorous world of fashion, something I'd never dare to do on my own. The moment felt almost surreal, like a scene straight out of a movie. I loved the feeling of confidence, of owning the room. Even though it wasn't me who had strutted down the catwalk, a small part of that boldness lingered, reminding me of my own potential.
Have you ever felt violated or uneasy after a rental session?
Yes, there have been moments of discomfort. One time, I woke up in a very crowded place, in the middle of a music festival. I’m a bit of an introvert, so waking up in such a noisy, chaotic environment was quite jarring. My body was adorned in a loose crop top, denim shorts, and a floral headband – typical festival attire, but it felt strange since I usually prefer more conservative clothing. My hair, normally tied up in a neat bun, was let loose and felt messy with dried sweat and probably some beer someone had spilled.
I could still feel the throb of the loud music in my ears, the vibrations settling into my body, like a low hum beneath my skin. My feet ached from dancing, my throat was parched, and there was a residual taste of beer and cheap festival food on my tongue. My hands were stained with neon paint, evidence of the craziness of the night. The faint smell of sweat, alcohol, and smoke clung to my skin, making me feel a bit dirty.
I remember feeling lost and out of place among the sea of enthusiastic festival-goers. Although the monitors had ended the rental as soon as I started to regain consciousness, the sudden shift from unconscious tranquility to overwhelming sensory stimulation was a shock. I felt a twinge of unease, realizing how vulnerable I was during these rentals, but it also reminded me of the importance of trust in this profession.
Have you ever considered renting out your body for more extended periods, like a week or a month?
I've given it some thought, but there are practical and emotional challenges to consider. Physically, the neuralink is designed for shorter periods – up to 24 hours. So, waking up in the same clothes I wore a day ago is common, sometimes with minor changes like a different pair of shoes or an added accessory. My body, toned from regular exercise and yoga, would handle the physical strain quite well, but there is a limit to how long the technology can keep my consciousness suppressed. The device needs to be recharged, and my body needs rest and rejuvenation.
Emotionally, there's a strange intimacy in sharing my body for such extended periods. Every time I wake up after a rental, it's as though a veil is lifted from my eyes. There's a brief moment of disorientation, like a foggy morning, where I'm not quite sure where I am or what has happened. My fingers would glide over the fabric of my clothes, tracing the alien feel of a shirt or a dress that I didn’t remember putting on. There's a rush of sensations, the leftover smells of where my renter has been, the lingering tastes on my tongue, and the physical echoes of their activities.
Imagine that feeling extended for a week or a month. Imagine the shift in my daily routines, my eating habits, and my social interactions. My body would live a life that my mind wasn't a part of. As it stands, the rental periods are already a leap of faith, a testament to my trust in the technology, the system, and the people who rent me. Prolonging the rental period only escalates the implications.
However, the notion isn't without its appeal. I could potentially earn more, and it might provide a unique opportunity for me to experience different lives. But for now, the constraints outweigh the benefits. I've chosen to prioritize my sense of self, my personal boundaries, and the preservation of my own life experiences.
Do you have any plans for after medical school? Will you continue to be a surrogate?
Once I'm done with medical school, I plan to specialize in neurology. Being a surrogate has given me an intriguing perspective on how our brain functions and how advanced technology like neuralink can integrate with it. I'm eager to dive deeper, to understand the complex mysteries of our brains. My body, though petite and young, has become a fascinating landscape for my academic curiosity. Each pulse in my veins, every breath I take, has become a testament to the marvels of human biology and technology intertwined.
As for continuing as a surrogate, it's unlikely. Once I start my practice, my focus will be on my patients. I won’t have the time, or the emotional bandwidth, to lend my body to others. Plus, there's a certain comfort in the idea of regaining exclusive ownership of my body. To wake up in my bed, in my clothes, knowing that whatever memories I have from the previous day are my own, sounds incredibly comforting after a few years of sharing it with people.
There's a strange satisfaction in being a surrogate. It's not just about the money, although that's a significant factor. It's about providing a service, allowing people to experience life from a different perspective. There's a sense of pride, of fulfillment, in knowing that my body can help fulfill someone else's dream or desire, even if I don't remember any of it. So, while I look forward to focusing on my medical career, I'll always cherish the experiences and insights I've gained as a surrogate.
Ever stumbled upon photos or videos of yourself from a rental session you don't remember?
Yes, it's happened on more than one occasion. There's something strangely unnerving about seeing photos or videos of yourself in action, knowing that you don’t remember a single moment of it.
The first time this happened, I was scrolling through social media when I found a picture of myself at a charity marathon. My usually fair complexion was flushed with exertion, sweat glinting on my forehead, my blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, strands sticking to my moist skin. The tight runner’s outfit clung to my petite frame, accentuating my toned muscles, highlighting my runner's posture. In the photo, I was crossing the finish line, arms in the air, a picture of triumph and satisfaction.
Seeing myself there, the exuberance on my face, the sheer exhilaration in my wide, bright eyes was surreal. It felt like looking at a doppelganger or a twin, someone who shared my body, my face, but lived experiences that I didn’t remember. It was as if this 'other me' had successfully completed a marathon, something I'd never done. It was a bizarre mixture of pride and confusion, seeing a triumphant moment that I had no recollection of.
There were a few other times that it happened – one in particular was pretty creepy – but there’s no rule against it right now, so, you know.
Have you ever confronted a renter about the things they've done while renting your body?
I’ve never directly confronted a renter, but there have been times when I've requested the agency to talk to them. Once, I found a video of myself eating a tarantula at a food festival. My stomach churned as I watched 'me' in the video, sporting a wide grin, taking a big bite of the deep-fried spider, savoring the crunch with evident delight.
I remembered feeling a bizarre disconnect as I watched my own fingers delicately holding the spider, the crunch echoing in my ears as I bit down, the sound so vivid, it felt real. My heart pounded as my face on the screen twisted into an expression of joy and satisfaction, my blue eyes twinkling with daring and adventure. The image haunted me, even when I had closed my eyes, the back of my eyelids mirroring the ghastly sight. The discomfort was so intense that I had to reach out to the agency, reminding them of my arachnophobia and the importance of renters respecting the surrogate's personal boundaries.
The process was quite straightforward, actually. The agency assured me they would remind the renter of the rules. The interesting (and perhaps, unnerving) part of this whole situation was the realization of how much control I had surrendered. While I was tucked safely away in the realm of unconsciousness, my body was out there, in the world, engaging in activities I’d never imagine doing in a conscious state. It brought up a mix of feelings – a tad of unease, a hint of exhilaration, and an odd sense of curiosity about what my body is capable of when untethered from my conscious mind.
It was unsettling to find a video of myself doing something that was so contradictory to my personality. Yet, it was also an opportunity for me to face my fear, albeit in a roundabout way. It didn't cure my arachnophobia, but it did make me question how much of our fears are mental barriers. It was like staring at a reflection of what I could potentially be, unbound by personal fears or biases. And in a twisted way, it was liberating.
Although I don’t wish for a repeat of such experiences, these instances have pushed me to reflect on myself and consider my perceptions. They've nudged me out of my comfort zone and made me realize the extraordinary adaptability of the human mind and body. And for that, I am oddly grateful.
Have you ever found provocative photos of yourself from a rental session? How did you react?
Yes, I have. One incident that particularly stands out was when I stumbled upon a series of photos of me dressed as a 'catgirl' at what seemed to be a cosplay event.
In these images, I was dressed in a black, form-fitting bodysuit that hugged my petite figure, accentuating my curves. Ears pointed upwards were attached to a headband on my blonde hair, which was styled into playful, loose curls. A long, fluffy tail was clipped onto the back of the bodysuit, and a mischievous smirk played on my face. My eyes were highlighted with dramatic, catlike makeup, and I had a delicate, diamond-shaped nose and whiskers painted on. Completing the look were long, black gloves and boots, adding a certain allure to the whole ensemble.
Seeing myself in this provocative outfit was an unnerving experience. I've always been more of a modest dresser, preferring comfort and functionality over fashion or trends. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked at the photos. My cheeks, usually fair, turned a deep shade of red, my body reacting to the shock and embarrassment even though my mind was still trying to process what it was seeing.
Despite the initial shock, I had to admire the artistry involved. The attention to detail in the costume and makeup was impeccable. My body looked confident, empowered, even seductive - a stark contrast to my usual demeanor. There was an undeniable beauty in the images that I couldn't ignore, a transformation so complete that it was hard to believe it was me.
Although this incident did make me feel uncomfortable, it also forced me to confront my own perceptions of my body and my sexuality. It showed me a version of myself that I had never considered before, pushing me to reassess my boundaries and my comfort zones.
These photos served as a reminder of how diverse and varied human experiences can be, and how our bodies can be a canvas for different forms of expression. It wasn't an easy experience, but it was a learning opportunity for me. Since then, I've become more open-minded, learning to embrace the unexpected and finding beauty in all forms of self-expression.
What's the most bizarre situation you've found yourself in after a rental session?
One of the most bizarre situations I've woken up to was when I found myself at a beach party, covered in chocolate, and wearing a bikini.
The moment my consciousness resurfaced, I was greeted by the smell of salt and sunscreen, underscored by the sweet scent of melted chocolate. My skin felt sticky, and as I glanced down, I saw my petite body donned in a vibrant red bikini, smothered with chocolate sauce. The droplets were scattered like modern art across the soft, fair skin of my abdomen, my arms, and even my legs. The sunlight glinted off the slick coating, giving me an oddly shiny appearance.
Around me, people were laughing and cheering, music blaring from nearby speakers. The party seemed to be in full swing, the beach lined with young people engaged in various activities - some were playing beach volleyball, others were tanning, sipping cocktails, or dancing to the lively music. A makeshift stage had been set up nearby, and it seemed like I had just participated in a chocolate-themed competition.
The sandy grit beneath my feet, the comforting warmth of the sun on my chocolate-covered skin, the riotous noise of the party, all contributed to a sensory overload. But amidst the chaos, there was also an underlying feeling of exhilaration and freedom, a giddy aftertaste of what seemed to have been a wild and enjoyable event.
Despite the initial shock, a part of me couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. There was something incredibly surreal and yet comically charming about it. Extracting myself from the party, I made my way towards the sea, intending to wash off the chocolate and to reclaim a sense of normalcy. As the cool waves lapped against my legs, I remember feeling a renewed sense of appreciation for my unusual job. While it occasionally landed me in sticky situations (quite literally in this case), it also made for some truly unforgettable experiences.
Have you ever found photos taken by a renter afterwards, anything embarrassing?
Oh, you have no idea. There was this one time when I woke up to find a series of pictures on my phone that left me both amused and perplexed.
The first photo showed me in a bright yellow chicken costume. My usually petite and slender figure was enveloped in a fluffy, oversized suit, complete with a red plume on top. My face, usually serene or focused, was contorted into a comical squawk, my mouth wide open, my eyes squeezed shut in exaggerated expression.
Next, I found a picture of myself wearing a pair of oversized glasses, their frames so large they covered half my face, my blue eyes appearing comically magnified. A fluorescent green wig was placed haphazardly on my head, strands of synthetic hair falling over my forehead. My lips were stretched into a goofy grin, my cheeks dimpled with laughter.
The photo parade continued with me donning an array of humorous costumes – a pirate with a plastic hook, a faux fur-lined onesie of a unicorn, a clown with a red nose and oversized shoes. In each photo, I was making different faces - there was a mock-scared expression, a wide-eyed surprise, a faux-angry scowl, and many more.
A couple got a little bit more lewd. There were a few, um, revealing selfies in the mix – one where they’d stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes back in a pretty stupid looking way. And one really embarrassing one where they were basically naked and cupping my boobs for the camera. I did have a word with the agency after that one – the renters aren’t meant to do that.
Does your body ever feel different when you return to it? Like, sore, worn out, used differently?
Absolutely, my body often feels different when I return to it after a rental session. It’s almost like getting reacquainted with a familiar yet slightly altered space.
One instance that particularly stands out was after a renter who was evidently a dance enthusiast had used my body. I woke up in a dance studio, my reflection mirrored in the wall-length mirror. My petite frame was dressed in a flowing, practice skirt and a snug-fitting top. My blonde hair, usually worn down, was pulled up into a tight, professional bun.
When I moved, I felt a certain soreness in my muscles that I wasn’t used to. It was clear that my body had been stretching and moving in ways that were unfamiliar. My calves throbbed slightly, hinting at an intense session of pointe work. My shoulders and back felt looser, likely the result of expressive modern dance movements.
Despite the soreness, there was also an underlying sense of satisfaction. I could tell that my body had been put through a substantial, yet enjoyable workout. As I moved, I could feel a fluidity in my motions, a rhythm that seemed to resonate in my muscles. It was as if my body had picked up a faint echo of the dance, a lingering melody imprinted in the way I moved.
In these moments, my body sometimes feels like an instrument that has been played beautifully and then set aside. There’s a feeling of having been ‘used’ – not in a negative sense, but in the way that a well-loved book is used, its pages turned carefully, its spine bearing the imprints of a reader's hands. There’s a sense of having been part of someone else’s story, even if just for a while.
So wait, you wake up in random positions after each session? What happens if you don't know how to get home after, haha
Haha, yes, I do wake up in different places following a rental session, but it's not as chaotic as it sounds.
Renters are required to ensure I'm in a safe environment before the rental period ends. This rule is strictly enforced by the agency, ensuring that I don't wake up in dangerous or compromising situations. The location can be anywhere - a park, a café, a shopping mall, even a dance studio, as I mentioned in an earlier response. But whatever the location, safety is paramount.
As for getting back home, that's rarely been a problem. My phone is always with me, and it has all the necessary apps and information for navigation. Plus, we live in an era where rideshares are just a few taps away.
However, there was this one time when I woke up in a botanical garden. It was early evening, the setting sun casting long, golden shadows around me. I was seated on a park bench, amidst a riot of colorful flowers and lush greenery. A gentle breeze was playing with my blonde curls, carrying the scent of earth and blooming roses. The tranquillity of the scene was almost meditative.
Despite not immediately recognizing the place, a quick check on my phone showed it to be within the city limits. Instead of rushing home, I decided to take my time exploring the garden, reveling in the unexpected treat. It was a refreshing change of pace from my usual, fast-paced life. Moments like these make the unpredictable nature of my work not just tolerable, but sometimes surprisingly rewarding.
Do people ever... you know... need to use the toilet when you're being rented?
That's a part of the reality not often talked about, isn't it? Yes, biological needs don't stop during a rental session. The human body, including mine, continues to function as usual - this includes needing to use the toilet.
However, I must assure you that the agency has regulations in place to ensure that renters deal with such situations appropriately. Before a rental session, every renter is thoroughly briefed about treating the body with respect and maintaining personal hygiene.
The first time I woke up in a restroom, I must admit it was a bit disconcerting. I was in a posh restaurant's restroom, staring at my reflection in a tastefully framed mirror. My body was dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress, my blonde hair swept into an intricate updo. My usually bare face had a dash of makeup - a subtle smoky eye and a soft pink lip color.
What startled me was not the environment, but the stark realisation of the intimacy that the rental process implied. In that moment I understood that my renters weren't just walking in my shoes; they were living in my skin. It brought a level of humility and vulnerability that took me a while to get used to.
Over time, however, I've come to terms with it. It's a part of the job, as mundane as it might sound. And it underscores the fact that even when dressed up for an elegant evening out, the human body has its fundamental needs that don't pause for anyone, renter or otherwise. It's a humbling reminder of our shared biology, stripping away the glamour and bringing us down to the basics of existence.
Wait, you woke up in a restroom? Why did they take your body somewhere else before dismounting? Did something go wrong?
It's an interesting question, and to be honest, each rental experience can be quite unique, including where I regain consciousness.
In the case of the restroom scenario, nothing actually went wrong. Renters are advised to ensure I'm in a safe and private location before the rental period ends. In this particular case, I suspect the renter wanted to ensure privacy at the moment of dismounting, which is why they chose a restroom – I suppose they didn’t want to waste their rental minutes walking back through the city.
When I regained consciousness, I was in the ladies' room. Despite the initial disorientation, the transition was smooth. I was safe, and as per the regulations, my dignity and privacy were maintained.
In such circumstances, it's vital to maintain composure and confidence, which is something I've learned with experience. While it can feel strange to navigate these post-rental situations, it's also a fascinating exploration of human behavior and norms. It's like jumping into the middle of a movie and trying to figure out the plot. And in a strange way, that's part of the appeal for me. It keeps life interesting.
What happens to the renter's bodies while they control yours?
While the renters are controlling my body, their own bodies are in a state of neural stasis, almost akin to being in a deep sleep or a coma. The Neuralink technology takes over the function of their neural signals, effectively allowing their consciousness to be projected into my body. However, their bodies do require care during this time, which is where the agency comes in.
The agency has a specialized facility where renters' bodies are looked after during the rental period. They're kept in a safe, controlled environment, with continuous monitoring of vital signs to ensure their physical well-being. Medical professionals are always on standby to intervene if any health concerns arise.
I once had the chance to visit this facility. It was a rather surreal experience, seeing rows of bodies lying still, as if in a peaceful sleep. The room was bathed in a soft, soothing light, the air regulated to maintain an optimal temperature. The silence was punctuated by the occasional beep of a heart monitor, lending a rhythmic undertone to the tranquility.
It felt oddly serene, each body representing a person exploring the world in a different form. I remember standing there, thinking about the paradox of the situation - the quiet, unmoving bodies and the vibrant, active minds experiencing life through rented bodies.
This level of care gives me peace of mind, knowing that my renters are taken care of while they're renting my body. It also underscores the mutual trust inherent in this process - while they trust me with their consciousness, I trust them with my body, all the while knowing that we both are in safe hands.
I couldn't imagine doing that work. What if someone made you do something illegal! Or creepy!
While there are thorough safeguards in place to prevent misuse of the rental service, there was one instance that gave me quite a bit of a scare. It's an interesting story about a renter who got too attached to the rental experience and crossed some boundaries.
This individual, let's call him John, had rented my body a few times, and initially, everything seemed fine. However, over time, his behavior started to become problematic. He began requesting my body more frequently, and started leaving me in places that were meaningful to him - his favorite coffee shop, the park where he used to play as a child, and once even outside his apartment.
It was disorienting and unnerving to say the least. Waking up outside John's apartment was particularly alarming. It was late at night, and the street was bathed in the harsh, white glow of the streetlights. I was dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, my hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The quiet, residential area felt foreign and eerily silent, the only sound being the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze.
I started receiving messages from John too, filled with sentiments that were too intimate, too personal. It was as if he was confusing me with someone he knew closely or someone he wished to be close with. The messages made me uncomfortable, their tone straying from friendly to obsessive.
Then he began sending me photographs - selfies he had taken while renting my body. In each of these images, my body was in various scenarios, some casual, others more intimate.
One of the first pictures was of 'me' at his favorite coffee shop, sipping on a caramel latte. The backdrop was familiar to me - the vintage posters on the wall, the warm, wooden interior of the café. My body was casually dressed, a cozy sweater hugging my petite frame, my blonde hair tumbling over my shoulders. It was as if he had taken me on a casual, coffee date.
At first, I found it a bit amusing, even endearing. Here was a man so taken by the experience of renting my body that he wanted to share his moments with me. It was a new angle to the renting experience that I hadn't considered before - the renter wanting to connect on a more personal level.
As more photographs followed, the tone of them started to change. There was one where 'I' was standing on the edge of a rooftop, the city lights glittering in the background. My body, clad in a fitting leather jacket and ripped jeans, seemed to emanate an air of recklessness that was not me. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to the earlier, cozy coffee shop picture.
Some photos of my feet came next, which was kind of odd, and then my own face making a kissy face at the camera. Ugh. Then came the intimate ones - a picture of 'me' lounging on a bed, dressed in a silk nightgown, a soft smile playing on 'my' lips. The familiarity of the scenario, coupled with the knowledge that it wasn't truly me, left me with an uncomfortable feeling, a breach of privacy that was hard to ignore.
That's when it dawned on me that this was more than just a renter enjoying his experiences - it was veering into an obsessive territory. I could see John blurring the lines between the rented experience and real connection, transforming the relationship into something it was not supposed to be.
Things took a turn for the more disturbing when I received a video from John.
I remember when the notification popped up on my phone, it was late at night, and I was just wrapping up some study session. Intrigued and admittedly a little apprehensive, I clicked on the message.
The video was a selfie, but not just any selfie – it was John, renting my body, talking directly into the camera. He’s dressed me in a guy’s business shirt, boxers, and nothing else. The shirt was unbuttoned, and you could see my bare breasts underneath, pretty much totally exposed.
He was sat outside on a park bench, legs spread, leaning back with a smirk. He winked at the camera, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before launching into a monologue. The topics were all over the place - he shared his thoughts on books he liked, mused about our supposed 'connection', even hinted at plans he had for future rentals. His gestures were expressive, my hands moving animatedly as he spoke, the sunlight bouncing off the silver watch wrapped around his wrist. The watch was his, I’d never seen it before.
Throughout the video, he wore a knowing smile that was a clear departure from my typical expressions. It was chillingly intimate, uncomfortably personal. Here was a man who seemed to be under the delusion that he was developing a personal, almost romantic relationship with me, despite the starkly impersonal nature of our interaction.
Watching that video, it became clear to me that I needed to act. His delusions, his growing obsession was not just disturbing but potentially dangerous. It was then that I decided to report him to the agency. Despite the uncomfortable circumstances, I take solace in knowing that the system worked as it should, ensuring safety and enforcing boundaries when necessary. It served as a stark reminder of the potential risks and oddities I might face in my unique line of work.
Do renters take care of you? Like, do they eat properly? Exercise?
While renters are usually respectful, it's important to remember that for them, renting a body is often seen as a kind of vacation or escape from their own lives. As such, they might not stick to the same kind of diet and exercise routines I typically do.
There have been times when I've woken up to the remnants of a food binge - empty pizza boxes, chocolate wrappers, ice cream tubs - the works. It's amusing in a way, a clear indication of the renter letting loose and enjoying their 'time off'. I've found myself in the middle of a carnival, the sweet scent of cotton candy lingering on my tongue, or sometimes at an upscale restaurant, the remnants of a steak dinner still on the plate.
Exercise, unfortunately, doesn't seem to be a priority for most renters. Understandably, hitting the gym or going for a run might not be their idea of a fun time while renting someone else's body. As a result, I have to put in the extra work to maintain my fitness and health.
It's an interesting trade-off - I get to pay for medical school, and they get to take a break from their own lives, diets, and routines. It does add an extra layer of challenge to my life, but it's one I've grown accustomed to. I've learned to appreciate the workout sessions, the way my muscles ache after a good run or the soothing burn of a yoga routine. It's a part of my life that's wholly mine, a piece of routine and normalcy amidst the chaotic nature of my job.
At the end of the day, it's about understanding and accepting that my body is shared space. I do my best to provide a fit, healthy body for my renters to use, and in return, they give me the means to chase my dreams.
Hey meatsuitAMA, ever woke up with a badass tattoo that you didn't remember getting?
Ha! Luckily, no! The agency's pretty strict about that stuff - no permanent changes to the body, and that includes tattoos. Although, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what kind of ink a renter might choose.
Do you ever feel like you're missing out on your own life?
Damn, you're getting deep on me, aren't ya? It's a trip, no doubt. I mean, one minute I'm me, next I'm catching up on the shenanigans some renter got up to. But hey, at least I'm missing out on my life for a good cause, right? And who knows, maybe one day I'll wake up with a Nobel Prize because some renter used my body to solve quantum physics or something!
So, what if a renter decides to go skydiving or bungee jumping?
Well, they're supposed to stick to a set of ground rules, and extreme sports is a big no-no. But honestly? If someone secretly went skydiving with my body, I'd be pissed I missed out on the thrill! But for real, don't do that, future renters. I don't want my heart giving out at 22.
Are you ever scared of not getting your body back?
Haha, you know how to keep a girl up at night. But no, the tech's solid, and I trust the agency. But you bet your ass I've had some nightmares about that. If my body goes on a world tour without me, I better at least get a postcard.
Do your friends or family know about your job?
Well, mom knows, and she wasn't thrilled, let me tell ya. Tried to get me to consider waitressing or something. But my pals think it's pretty cool. And it's one hell of an ice breaker at parties. Imagine - "Hey, I'm meatsuitAMA, I rent out my body for a living. Pass the chips?"
What happens if the renter gets drunk or high?
Don't get me started. I basically wake up in whatever condition they leave me in. This one time, I woke up on a bed made of candy wrappers and empty bottles. My head is pounding, and I'm pretty sure I can still taste tequila. The renter had a full-on party, got sloshed, and binged on candy.
It wasn’t my best wake-up call, I’ll tell ya that much. Had to down a gallon of water and pop a few aspirins just to stop the world from spinning. And I was finding candy wrappers in my clothes for days after!
Have you ever been rented by someone famous?
Okay, I can’t reveal names ‘cause privacy and all that jazz, but holy crap, yes! And it was wild! Woke up in this swanky hotel suite, there's room service on the table, and I'm wearing designer gear head to toe. Even found a selfie with a major celeb on my phone. They were on a secret vacation or something. Crazy, right?
What about romantic stuff? Ever wake up with a partner next to you?
Sure, it's happened. I woke up once cuddling another sleeping lady, and I was wearing this cute red dress pulled up around my waist. There were rose petals everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. Took me hours to clean up. Turns out the renter had a long-distance relationship, wanted to surprise their partner. Sweet, but talk about awkward for me!
Have you ever woken up eating something really weird?
Haha, well, get ready for this. Once, I woke up in a chilli eating competition. I kid you not, I was in the middle of chewing this nuclear-level hot chilli. My eyes were watering, my throat was burning, and I was sweating like I just ran a marathon. My lips were stained a bright red from the chilli, and I could feel the heat radiating off my tongue, my entire mouth felt like it was on fire.
I was wearing this ridiculous chilli-shaped hat and a bib with "Chilli Queen" printed on it. It took every ounce of my control not to spit out the chilli right then and there. With tears streaming down my face, I somehow managed to swallow the damn thing, then proceeded to drink about a gallon of milk straight from the jug.
Let's just say, the after-effects were...not pleasant. And that's the last time I ever want to be part of a chilli eating competition!
Do people ever rent you for physical labor or things like that?
It happens sometimes. I hadn’t thought it would ahead of time – who would want my body to do manual labour, I can lift like, two bricks on a good day. But it turns out there’s so few bodies available at any given time, sometimes there are shortages, and they just want more hands on site.
Once I woke up in a construction site wearing those baggy, heavy duty work clothes, you know the kind, and a hard hat. There were smudges of dirt on my hands and face, and my muscles ached like I'd been lifting weights all day. The work gloves were still on my hands, and I could feel the rough material chafing against my skin. The boots were a bit too large for my feet, and I had to be careful not to trip over anything.
Apparently, the renter was a contractor from the other side of the country. The agency assures me that they ensure safety measures for such rentals, but I still found it a bit weird. But hey, I guess it’s a way for people to get their work done :/.
What are the most common reasons people rent your body?
Good question! It's a mixed bag, honestly. Sometimes it's for the experience of being a petite woman, which is kinda weird but hey, to each their own. Other times they want to use me like a canvas. I woke up once in a room filled with wigs and makeup. I was wearing this professional grade makeup, you know, the kind you see on models during fashion week.
I’m talking glittery eye shadow that matched the exact color of my eyes, perfectly applied red lipstick that made my lips look fuller, and a rosy blush that gave my cheeks a healthy glow. The fake eyelashes were a bit annoying though. Every blink felt heavy, and my eyes were watering a bit from the glue.
I later found out that the renter was a makeup artist. They had used my face as a canvas to practice new makeup techniques. I gotta say, it felt pretty cool walking around looking like I stepped straight out of a beauty magazine.
Other people might rent me to explore the city, like for travel and tourism things. Sometimes I'm rented for people to go to meetings or hangouts long distance. Occasionally it seems to be just a sex thing -- girls (or even guys, idk) renting me to have fun on the town -- which I'm less keen on, but as long as they take it easy.
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