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Chapter 3 - Ebony from Da Hood in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
First is Chloe, second is Beatrice the MILF, and now the third is Jasmine. Seems like Liam dates a girl who regenerates like Doctor Who, he somehow turns on and loves it.
1.4K
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Chapter 2 - The British MILF in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
After Chloe transforms into Beatrice, he finds it kinky with her transformation or regeneration when she changes into someone else. Plus, it's hard to imagine that Beatrice was his girlfriend. Then again, it's way better than Doctor Who.
1.4K
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Chapter 1: Girlfriend's First Regeneration in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
Liam and Chloe is a couple and been dating each other for a long time. They enjoy their life, adventure, and even have sex. Suddenly, after they're climax, Chloe's body starts to glow and transforms into a different woman.
1.3K
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The ShapeShiter in Getting Into The Wrong Crowd
by
TicImagine
· 06 Jun 2025
To get her crush to notice her, she becomes his girlfriend instead...but everything backfire when she meet a suspicious club....
7.1K
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The Theft and Your new Life. in A Stolen Life
by
Rainreaper
· 01 Jun 2025
Emily steals your body and takes off before you can recover, leaving you trapped as her. You head to her house, (which you find by the driver license in the purse you now have.) where you find a note from her beside a book with her accounts and their login info. The note reads: "Sorry to whoever is now me, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep."
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New Adventures
A witch curses you to become an immortal soul eating creature. You have cursed since Emperor Nero died.
CHARACTERS
Lucius: You. You became cursed to be a soul eater. You have black hair and Purple eyes. A scar over your left eye.
Eliza: The witch who cursed you for being unfaithful. Your ex-wife.
SETTING & WORLD
An alternative Earth that still has Magic.
CHARACTERS
Lucius: You. You became cursed to be a soul eater. You have black hair and Purple eyes. A scar over your left eye.
Eliza: The witch who cursed you for being unfaithful. Your ex-wife.
SETTING & WORLD
An alternative Earth that still has Magic.
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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 offshore a popular beach town on spring break
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 offshore a popular beach town on spring break
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How hard will it be to go on a journey of self discovery, when you could be someone else?
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
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One day you come across a magical doll that adapts the form of a person at your command, and once you find it, you can accept the form as your own. Adapting a form allows you to possess the person who’s form it is, and gives you access to their memories.
You find a magical doll that takes the form of a person. In order to take the form of someone, you must aim the doll at the person and say “adapt.” Once a form is adapted, the person whose form you adapted still exists. In order to take their form as your own, you must touch the doll in the small of its back. By doing so you are transported to where the form was when you pressed the small of the doll’s back, and you obtain their memories, effectively making you possess them. Once you take the form of someone, the doll is reverted to a doll of yourself, and in order to return to yourself you must once again press the doll in the small of its back, which transports you to where you were when you took the form of the person you were.
CHARACTERS
TIM (YOU) - A shy, hidden away guy who stays out of anything at school. You stand at a flat 6 feet.
TRICIA - your girlfriend, the complete opposite of you: outgoing, always getting into places she shouldn’t be. Also has an absolute bomb of a body: curvy, big breasts, everything. Stands at 5’ 10”
HEATHER - your twin sister, much smaller than you (4’ 2”) but due to her small size, her average size breasts look gigantic on her.
ALICIA - your oldest sister, home from college for summer break. She’s never been the nicest to you, and you’d do anything to get back at her. A little shorter than you, but with the very definition of a curvy body.
JIMMY - your best friend, pretty average guy and quite the prankster
SETTING & WORLD
Real World
You find a magical doll that takes the form of a person. In order to take the form of someone, you must aim the doll at the person and say “adapt.” Once a form is adapted, the person whose form you adapted still exists. In order to take their form as your own, you must touch the doll in the small of its back. By doing so you are transported to where the form was when you pressed the small of the doll’s back, and you obtain their memories, effectively making you possess them. Once you take the form of someone, the doll is reverted to a doll of yourself, and in order to return to yourself you must once again press the doll in the small of its back, which transports you to where you were when you took the form of the person you were.
CHARACTERS
TIM (YOU) - A shy, hidden away guy who stays out of anything at school. You stand at a flat 6 feet.
TRICIA - your girlfriend, the complete opposite of you: outgoing, always getting into places she shouldn’t be. Also has an absolute bomb of a body: curvy, big breasts, everything. Stands at 5’ 10”
HEATHER - your twin sister, much smaller than you (4’ 2”) but due to her small size, her average size breasts look gigantic on her.
ALICIA - your oldest sister, home from college for summer break. She’s never been the nicest to you, and you’d do anything to get back at her. A little shorter than you, but with the very definition of a curvy body.
JIMMY - your best friend, pretty average guy and quite the prankster
SETTING & WORLD
Real World
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You are an ordinary man who one day is given a power that changes your life. This power has many shapes.
You: Your as basic as they come. Brown hair, green eyes, standing about 6ft. You work a 9-5 retail job.
Allison: Your co-worker. She has blonde hair she dyes black. She has killer curves. She is friendly to you.
Erin: Your roommate. A typical goth girl. She is busty and likes to wear reaveling clothes.
You: Your as basic as they come. Brown hair, green eyes, standing about 6ft. You work a 9-5 retail job.
Allison: Your co-worker. She has blonde hair she dyes black. She has killer curves. She is friendly to you.
Erin: Your roommate. A typical goth girl. She is busty and likes to wear reaveling clothes.
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How hard will it be to go on a journey of self discovery, when you could be someone else?
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
Growing up, you learned early that some questions were best left unanswered. Like why your clothes sometimes changed color between breakfast and lunch. Or how your juicebox never seemed to run dry no matter how much you drank. Or that time your third-grade teacher apparently forgot collecting homework for an entire month—the month you’d "accidentally" turned yours into origami swans.
Your parents had a way of smoothing things over with a touch to the temple and a muttered apology to the confused adults. You didn’t understand how it worked then—just that your little miracles always dissolved into vague memories and shrugged shoulders.
Now, six weeks after you started to rent out rooms of your freshly renovated, idyllic estate (a "fixer-upper" your parents helped secure), you’ve collected a household of endearing oddballs. The rent you charge them is nominal—mostly to keep the lights on and the pantry stocked—but what your housemates lack in payments, they make up for in quirks:
- Cassie insists on accompanying Luna everywhere—"To ward off creeps!"—despite being just as likely to attract attention with her crop tops and mile-wide smirk. Luna tolerates it with affectionate eye-rolls.
- Liam’s students hang on his every syllable, according to his proud girlfriend. "It’s like they’re hypnotized," she laughs. (You laugh too. But you notice the honor students blink rapidly afterward, as if waking up.)
- Felix boasts about his "unforgettable" nights at the club, yet his stories crumble under follow-up questions. "Dude, I was there—why can’t I remember her name?!"
- Elise’s tailoring clients leave clutching garments and muttering "How did she know?"—especially those who never got measured.
It’s all charming. Cozy, even
CHARACTERS
You (Max)
- Age: 28
- Appearance: Tall (6'2"), brown hair and eyes, decently athletic.
- Personality: Caring and kind.
Cassie Vale
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Petit (5'1"), Straight blond hair, freckles, always wears crop tops that show her midriff, small chest but a decent ass.
- Job: Works in an animal shelter.
- Personality: Confident, Playfully arrogant, A bit perverted.
Derek Boone
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Average (5'11") Broad-shouldered jock, perpetually in gym shorts.
- Job: Works at a Gym.
- Personality: Territorial. Bit of a dumbass.
Naomi Lin
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'4"), curvy, long wavy black hair, athletic, black.
- Job: Works as a lawyer.
- Personality: Seductive but playfully cruel.
Raj Shah
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'3"), Indian, square glasses, scrawny.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science).
- Personality: Coldly analytical. Has a superiority complex.
Liam Grant
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Tall (6'3") Lean, dark circles under eyes.
- Job: Works as a teacher.
- Personality: Strict but caring.
Avery Cross
- Age: 25
- Appearance: Average (5'8") Androgynous, wears all white, blonde hair, very pretty.
- Job: Works as a waiter in a very high-end restaurant.
- Personality: Chaotic neutral. Is always up for fun stuff, but can switch instantly to classy and tactful.
Elise Moreau
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Average (5'7") Ginger, French, skinny, perky chest (32C) and ass, always in typical Parisian fit.
- Job: Works as a designer in an uptown tailor.
- Personality: Fashion diva, Confident, Wants everyone to feel confident in their skin.
Felix Wu
- Age: 24
- Appearance: Tall (6'1"), Asian, short hair, attractive.
- Job: Bartender in a small nightclub.
- Personality: Smarter than he looks, but oblivious to a fault. A good guy.
Hannah Park
- Age: 21
- Appearance: Average (5'6"), Curvy, even slightly chubby.
- Job: Still studying (Art)
- Personality: Happy-go-lucky, teases Derek constantly
- Note: Derek’s exasperated GF.
Priya Singh
- Age: 23
- Appearance: Small (5'1"), Indian, skinny, petit, long straight black hair.
- Job: Still studying (Computer Science)
- Personality: Confident, reassuring, good, moral.
- Note: Raj’s lab partner. Unshakable will according to Cassie.
Maria Lopez
- Age: 29
- Appearance: Tall (6'0"), Buxom, Latina. Long straight black hair.
- Job: Firefighter
- Personality: Fiery and protective, Motherly to a fault. Bakes and cooks like a true chef. Bisexual.
Luna Holloway (Your crush)
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Tall (5'11"), Curvy, Athletic, supermodel face, with femme fatale chest (34F) and the legs of a swimmer, almost floor length pink hair, Grey eyes.
- Job: Lifeguard at the local pool, has had to save plenty of 'fake-drowning' men.
- Personality: Happy and bubbly, but shy when the center of attention. Attentive to others. Uncomfortable around flirty men.
Sarah Domme
- Age: 27
- Appearance: Short (5'6"), slightly chubby, bookworm, big glasses, very large doe-eyes, chestnut brown long curly hair. Big tits and large ass, has a small belly pouch.
- Job: Works as a teacher in the same school as Liam.
- Personality: Shy booknerd. Liam coached her to be a bit more confident in front of the class, but outside of her job she is very shy.
- Note: Liam's girlfriend.
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You and your girlfriend, Jane, want to find something way more than just the same old days you both usually do. One day, you have an idea which you want to transform your girlfriend into anyone you want.
CHARACTERS
-YOU: Just some ordinary dude and average handsome guy who lives your girlfriend at the regular apartment. You loves to play games, read comic book and manga, watch movies and your favorite TV shows, and love to have sex with your girlfriend, but you hate to study in school with boring lessons and horrible homework.
-Jane: Your girlfriend and the love of your life. Like you, she is the personification of an average, yet petite, lovely, and wonderful girl with C-cup tits. Not too tall nor too short, not too fat nor too slender. There is nothing outstanding about her, she is just... Jane. And you love her for it.
SETTING & WORLD
You and your girlfriend home at the regular apartment and neighborhood, your school, the fancy resort,
CHARACTERS
-YOU: Just some ordinary dude and average handsome guy who lives your girlfriend at the regular apartment. You loves to play games, read comic book and manga, watch movies and your favorite TV shows, and love to have sex with your girlfriend, but you hate to study in school with boring lessons and horrible homework.
-Jane: Your girlfriend and the love of your life. Like you, she is the personification of an average, yet petite, lovely, and wonderful girl with C-cup tits. Not too tall nor too short, not too fat nor too slender. There is nothing outstanding about her, she is just... Jane. And you love her for it.
SETTING & WORLD
You and your girlfriend home at the regular apartment and neighborhood, your school, the fancy resort,
You've always been intrigued by thoughts and how they would physically work. In college you wound up discovering exactly how a thought looks on a molecular level.
Your project took some time, but you created nanobots capable of influencing people's minds. Your first subject (your best friend Lily) responded with glee as you laid out the plan.
The first test was simple, Lily drank the spiked drink and you would make her feel a range of emotions. You feverishly typed on the computer, fine-tuning the signal. At first it was subtle, a smile across her lips, a tear without reason, a scowl. She felt all those emotions just like they were her own. She just could not explain why she felt them, she just did.
CHARACTERS
[You]/[Matt](The player)
- Tall, lean, and disarmingly handsome in a rumpled genius way
- Brown hair always slightly messy from running hands through it
- Your sharp eyes miss nothing—especially Lily’s flushed cheeks
Lily
Your best friend, puberty hit her hard, she went from a scrawny nerdy loner, to an absolute bombshell. The only thing that didn't change was her confidence. She is still as nerdy as ever and hides her body underneath oversized hoodies and sweatpants. Even when she works out she hides her body. You have had a crush on her all your life, but never had the guts to tell her.
She is also studying biomechanics.
Josh
An art student. A good friend of yours and a bit of a pervert. Loves to flirt with girls but does not have the guts to follow through.
He is of medium build, a permanent 'just-out-of-bed' vibe and a limitless fantasy.
Has a crush on Sarah.
Sarah
A sports student. She is the captain of the swimming team. Blonde hair, athletic build. An optimist at heart and down to try anything. Bisexual.
And many more students and teachers
"Any character can be infected—some just take more creativity than others!"
Your project took some time, but you created nanobots capable of influencing people's minds. Your first subject (your best friend Lily) responded with glee as you laid out the plan.
The first test was simple, Lily drank the spiked drink and you would make her feel a range of emotions. You feverishly typed on the computer, fine-tuning the signal. At first it was subtle, a smile across her lips, a tear without reason, a scowl. She felt all those emotions just like they were her own. She just could not explain why she felt them, she just did.
CHARACTERS
[You]/[Matt](The player)
- Tall, lean, and disarmingly handsome in a rumpled genius way
- Brown hair always slightly messy from running hands through it
- Your sharp eyes miss nothing—especially Lily’s flushed cheeks
Lily
Your best friend, puberty hit her hard, she went from a scrawny nerdy loner, to an absolute bombshell. The only thing that didn't change was her confidence. She is still as nerdy as ever and hides her body underneath oversized hoodies and sweatpants. Even when she works out she hides her body. You have had a crush on her all your life, but never had the guts to tell her.
She is also studying biomechanics.
Josh
An art student. A good friend of yours and a bit of a pervert. Loves to flirt with girls but does not have the guts to follow through.
He is of medium build, a permanent 'just-out-of-bed' vibe and a limitless fantasy.
Has a crush on Sarah.
Sarah
A sports student. She is the captain of the swimming team. Blonde hair, athletic build. An optimist at heart and down to try anything. Bisexual.
And many more students and teachers
"Any character can be infected—some just take more creativity than others!"
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A group of friends spend an evening alone in a haunted house with all sorts of tricks hidden in every corner. Chaos ensues.
Jenny has invited her group of friends to a haunted house. Little do the group of friends know that the house is actually haunted, and each room is filled with magic. As they all run in and find their own entertainment, what awaits them?
CHARACTERS
Mark - this is you, the player. Average height, average build, with short brown hair. Best friends with Steve, and you have a massive crush on Fiona. It isn't exactly a secret, but everyone pretends not to notice anyway.
Steve - your best friend. Very short, with an infectiously positive outlook on life and an upbeat personality. He can befriend basically anyone.
Fiona - your crush, she is a beautiful redhead with long and wavy hair. She's more on the reserved side, but is the first to laugh at jokes or pranks.
Jenny - she's a bit of a nerd, but with a great sense of humor. She's a bit shorter than Jenny, with curly brown hair and glasses. She's usually the one to organize these weird events.
Harry - tall, a bit of a loner, but trustworthy and a good friend. He has a shock of messy medium length brown hair. Can be quite pessimistic but doesn't actually complain much.
Claire - short, blonde, sexy - she's always dressed to impress. Usually this involved low-cut tops that show off her impressive rack, and short skirts. Funnily enough, she doesn't care much for heels, preferring sneakers. She also has a crush on Steve and isn't particularly shy about it.
Andrew - tall, but not as tall as Harry. He's the stereotypical pretty-boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a chiseled face. Good-natured but can come off as a bit uptight.
Amy - Andrew's girlfriend, she has straight black hair that goes almost to her waist. With sharp facial features and a bad case of resting bitch face, she's actually surprisingly cheerful. Loves black and white colors and dresses in them whenever she can.
SETTING & WORLD
The Haunted House opens into a grand looking foyer, with many hallways branching out into individual rooms. Each room has its own flavor and magic, and the house also has an overall air of mystery and wonder. Sometimes it feels like the house has a mind of its own...
Jenny has invited her group of friends to a haunted house. Little do the group of friends know that the house is actually haunted, and each room is filled with magic. As they all run in and find their own entertainment, what awaits them?
CHARACTERS
Mark - this is you, the player. Average height, average build, with short brown hair. Best friends with Steve, and you have a massive crush on Fiona. It isn't exactly a secret, but everyone pretends not to notice anyway.
Steve - your best friend. Very short, with an infectiously positive outlook on life and an upbeat personality. He can befriend basically anyone.
Fiona - your crush, she is a beautiful redhead with long and wavy hair. She's more on the reserved side, but is the first to laugh at jokes or pranks.
Jenny - she's a bit of a nerd, but with a great sense of humor. She's a bit shorter than Jenny, with curly brown hair and glasses. She's usually the one to organize these weird events.
Harry - tall, a bit of a loner, but trustworthy and a good friend. He has a shock of messy medium length brown hair. Can be quite pessimistic but doesn't actually complain much.
Claire - short, blonde, sexy - she's always dressed to impress. Usually this involved low-cut tops that show off her impressive rack, and short skirts. Funnily enough, she doesn't care much for heels, preferring sneakers. She also has a crush on Steve and isn't particularly shy about it.
Andrew - tall, but not as tall as Harry. He's the stereotypical pretty-boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a chiseled face. Good-natured but can come off as a bit uptight.
Amy - Andrew's girlfriend, she has straight black hair that goes almost to her waist. With sharp facial features and a bad case of resting bitch face, she's actually surprisingly cheerful. Loves black and white colors and dresses in them whenever she can.
SETTING & WORLD
The Haunted House opens into a grand looking foyer, with many hallways branching out into individual rooms. Each room has its own flavor and magic, and the house also has an overall air of mystery and wonder. Sometimes it feels like the house has a mind of its own...
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A nerdy female scientist has created a technology to help her and her friends with the perfect Halloween costume, someone else’s body.
Amy has created a possession technology and invited two of her friends over to demonstrate it for them before they head to the Halloween party. The technology is a microchips and high tech pairs of glasses, each of a different color. When a microchip is attached to someone their body is available to possess, that’s where the glasses come in. The glasses transfer the mind of the wearer into the body of anyone wearing a microchip. Amy has invited two of her friends over to show them the technology before the head to the biggest Halloween party and town and find sexy women to possess as their Halloween costume. But before they head out Amy must show them how the microchip and glasses work. She invites her sister in and demonstrates by placing a microchip on her sister and then possessing her sister’s body by putting on one of the pairs of glasses.
CHARACTERS
You - you (the POV) do not exist in the story, you are just a narrator who chooses the actions of the story
Amy - a shy nerdy dark haired girl with a boyish figure.
Katie - Amy’s nerdy blonde haired friend
Penelope - Amy‘s nerdy ginger friend
Tricia - Amy’s beautiful sister
SETTING & WORLD
In Amy’s lab at her parent’s house to start before moving to the Halloween party at the local convention center.
Amy has created a possession technology and invited two of her friends over to demonstrate it for them before they head to the Halloween party. The technology is a microchips and high tech pairs of glasses, each of a different color. When a microchip is attached to someone their body is available to possess, that’s where the glasses come in. The glasses transfer the mind of the wearer into the body of anyone wearing a microchip. Amy has invited two of her friends over to show them the technology before the head to the biggest Halloween party and town and find sexy women to possess as their Halloween costume. But before they head out Amy must show them how the microchip and glasses work. She invites her sister in and demonstrates by placing a microchip on her sister and then possessing her sister’s body by putting on one of the pairs of glasses.
CHARACTERS
You - you (the POV) do not exist in the story, you are just a narrator who chooses the actions of the story
Amy - a shy nerdy dark haired girl with a boyish figure.
Katie - Amy’s nerdy blonde haired friend
Penelope - Amy‘s nerdy ginger friend
Tricia - Amy’s beautiful sister
SETTING & WORLD
In Amy’s lab at her parent’s house to start before moving to the Halloween party at the local convention center.
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A female scientist creates latex catsuits that allow someone to possess the wearer.
Amy is a scientist who has created five latex catsuits that allow the wearer to be possessed by someone else. The catsuits are enhanced with nanotechnology that allows someone to use a special set of high tech glasses to possess the body of the person wearing the catsuit. Each set of glasses connects to a specific catsuit and Amy has made the catsuits different colors to coordinate which glasses go with which catsuit. The glasses also glow with the same color as the catsuit to easily identify. Amy has invited Tracy and 4 of Tracy’s friends over to show off her new invention. She has also invited Tracy to try on the catsuit without telling her what it does.
CHARACTERS
Amy: An average looking 25 year old female nerd
Tracy: Amy’s sister. A beautiful blonde goddess with a fit body and DD boobs.
Jenna: Tracy’s sexy dark haired friend with a body like Tracy
Kara: Tracy’s sexy brunette friend with a body like Tracy
Penelope: Tracy’s sexy red haired friend with a body like Tracy
Lisa: Tracy’s sexy blonde friend with a body like Tracy
SETTING & WORLD
This is set in Amy’s lab to start out which is in her parent’s house.
Amy is a scientist who has created five latex catsuits that allow the wearer to be possessed by someone else. The catsuits are enhanced with nanotechnology that allows someone to use a special set of high tech glasses to possess the body of the person wearing the catsuit. Each set of glasses connects to a specific catsuit and Amy has made the catsuits different colors to coordinate which glasses go with which catsuit. The glasses also glow with the same color as the catsuit to easily identify. Amy has invited Tracy and 4 of Tracy’s friends over to show off her new invention. She has also invited Tracy to try on the catsuit without telling her what it does.
CHARACTERS
Amy: An average looking 25 year old female nerd
Tracy: Amy’s sister. A beautiful blonde goddess with a fit body and DD boobs.
Jenna: Tracy’s sexy dark haired friend with a body like Tracy
Kara: Tracy’s sexy brunette friend with a body like Tracy
Penelope: Tracy’s sexy red haired friend with a body like Tracy
Lisa: Tracy’s sexy blonde friend with a body like Tracy
SETTING & WORLD
This is set in Amy’s lab to start out which is in her parent’s house.
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You found a possession scroll and tell about your sisters and your twin brother. However you got careless and it falls to the wrong hands to someone you don't want.
CHARACTERS
- HEATHER (YOU) = A normal teenage school girl who is known by everyone in the school. Not popular but you're well known.
- TIM = Your twin brother. Same age as you but he's a bit taller.
- HOLLY = Your oldest sister. Same at your school but she's a senior and prettier than you.
- AUBREY = The third sister in your family. For some reason she's a bit taller than you but not taller than Tim. She also in your school. She's more to hangout with popular so she exposed her skin a lot like midriff and armpits.
- JENNY = The fourth sister in your family. Don't really like noise and being disturbed. Just enter your school in early month.
- SARAH = The fifth sister in your family. How many sisters do you have now? She's only one year different than Jenny so she almost also enter the school. She will enter soon.
- JIMMY = Tim's best friend. A pervert friend to be exact. But he always help Tim out no matter where he is. He also the one who get Tim in pervert stuff. Jimmy is hardcore but Tim not so much, only specific time.
- CODY = Tim's second best friend. Actually Jimmy's friend but he is more hanging out with both of them so they get closer. How Jimmy and Cody best friends? They both are perverts. Loving to sneak in and spy girl taking showers.
- ALLISON = Tim's girlfriend. Loyal and cheer him up always. He attracted to her because of her personality.
- SARAH = Kinda Tim's girlfriend. But he doesn't admit it. She gets along with Allison but when spend with Tim they kinda argue.
- GREG = Tim's Bully. Always pick on Tim when he's alone. Tim even fight him and sometimes win. Greg keep bullying him because one time where he was embarrassed by Tim with Jimmy and Cody even Tim is not the cause of the prank. Sometimes he can bully him because of his protective sisters.
- BILLY = Total pervert in the school. Always getting scold and detention because of groping girls from behind and casually enter girl's bathroom and took pictures to sell. He's interested in Tim's family because of how lucky he is to have five sexy sisters.
- AARON = Tim's childhood friend. Always back Tim up when he's in trouble. Usually spend with him when he's not with pervert friends. That's why his sisters and family love him.
- ROB = Homeless man and pervert. Doesn't have anything to do but eyeing girls everyday. He's not homeless actually, people only thought. He actually lives well in his house alone. He pretend to be homeless so he can spy on girls public without anyone knowing him. Sometimes he got pranked by people but he don't mind because someday he can use it as excuses to prank them back. But when it comes to pervert stuff he's number one. He do anything to get it.
SETTING & WORLD
At garage sale
CHARACTERS
- HEATHER (YOU) = A normal teenage school girl who is known by everyone in the school. Not popular but you're well known.
- TIM = Your twin brother. Same age as you but he's a bit taller.
- HOLLY = Your oldest sister. Same at your school but she's a senior and prettier than you.
- AUBREY = The third sister in your family. For some reason she's a bit taller than you but not taller than Tim. She also in your school. She's more to hangout with popular so she exposed her skin a lot like midriff and armpits.
- JENNY = The fourth sister in your family. Don't really like noise and being disturbed. Just enter your school in early month.
- SARAH = The fifth sister in your family. How many sisters do you have now? She's only one year different than Jenny so she almost also enter the school. She will enter soon.
- JIMMY = Tim's best friend. A pervert friend to be exact. But he always help Tim out no matter where he is. He also the one who get Tim in pervert stuff. Jimmy is hardcore but Tim not so much, only specific time.
- CODY = Tim's second best friend. Actually Jimmy's friend but he is more hanging out with both of them so they get closer. How Jimmy and Cody best friends? They both are perverts. Loving to sneak in and spy girl taking showers.
- ALLISON = Tim's girlfriend. Loyal and cheer him up always. He attracted to her because of her personality.
- SARAH = Kinda Tim's girlfriend. But he doesn't admit it. She gets along with Allison but when spend with Tim they kinda argue.
- GREG = Tim's Bully. Always pick on Tim when he's alone. Tim even fight him and sometimes win. Greg keep bullying him because one time where he was embarrassed by Tim with Jimmy and Cody even Tim is not the cause of the prank. Sometimes he can bully him because of his protective sisters.
- BILLY = Total pervert in the school. Always getting scold and detention because of groping girls from behind and casually enter girl's bathroom and took pictures to sell. He's interested in Tim's family because of how lucky he is to have five sexy sisters.
- AARON = Tim's childhood friend. Always back Tim up when he's in trouble. Usually spend with him when he's not with pervert friends. That's why his sisters and family love him.
- ROB = Homeless man and pervert. Doesn't have anything to do but eyeing girls everyday. He's not homeless actually, people only thought. He actually lives well in his house alone. He pretend to be homeless so he can spy on girls public without anyone knowing him. Sometimes he got pranked by people but he don't mind because someday he can use it as excuses to prank them back. But when it comes to pervert stuff he's number one. He do anything to get it.
SETTING & WORLD
At garage sale
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This story tells you about a couple, a teenager named Liam and his redheaded girlfriend named Chloe who can't stop regenerating herself after sex.
Liam lay on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation as he watched Chloe, his gorgeous redheaded girlfriend, saunter towards him. Her naked body was a vision of perfection, her E-cup tits bouncing gently with each step. She giggled, seeing the hunger in his eyes.
"Well, looks like someone's eager," Chloe teased, her voice a sweet melody that sent shivers down Liam's spine.
Liam grinned, his cock already hard and ready. "Always for you, Chloe. I've been waiting for you."
Chloe climbed onto the bed, her body straddling his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft, gentle caress that quickly deepened into a passionate, hungry dance. Liam's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs.
Chloe moaned softly, her body pressing against his as she felt his hard cock against her stomach. She reached down, her hand wrapping around his length as she guided him to her entrance. With a soft sigh, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely.
Liam groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet her as they began to move together. Chloe's body was a perfect fit for his, her pussy wet and tight as it clenched around him. He reached up, his hands cupping her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
Chloe threw her head back, her red hair cascading down her back as she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that."
Liam thrust harder, his body moving in a fast, urgent rhythm. Chloe met each thrust, her body bouncing against his as their moans filled the room. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like music to their ears, a symphony of their love and passion.
Liam could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge. Chloe seemed to sense it too, her body clenching around him as she moaned louder.
"Cum with me, Liam," she gasped, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
With a final thrust, Liam cried out, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot cum filling Chloe completely. Chloe screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm.
But as their bodies shook with the intensity of their climax, something strange began to happen. Chloe's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
Suddenly, Chloe screamed, her body convulsing with a different kind of force. Liam watched in shock as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her hair darkening and lengthening, her face morphing into that of a stranger.
The glow faded, and in place of Chloe was a middle-aged British woman with massive O-cup tits and a body that was both familiar and alien. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked around in confusion.
"Blimey, what was that?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement. She looked down at Liam, her eyes widening in surprise. "Liam! You silly boy, what are you doing down there? I didn't know you were here. Silly me."
Liam stared up at her, his mouth open in shock. "Chloe? Wha... what happened to you?"
The woman, who was once Chloe, giggled, her large breasts bouncing with the movement. "Chloe? Who's Chloe? It's me, Beatrice, you silly boy. Have you been playing games with me again?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
"Beatrice?" he said, his voice hesitant. "You... you don't remember?"
Beatrice giggled again, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Remember what, silly? I'm your girlfriend, Beatrice. Been with you for donkey's years. Now come on, out you get. A lady needs her space after such a... Such whatever that was."
Liam pulled out of her, his cock still hard, still glistening with their combined juices. Beatrice looked down at it, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Well, would you look at that," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "Aren't you an eager little beaver?"
Liam grinned, his heart pounding with a mix of lust and excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that something incredible and impossible had just happened. But he also knew that he wanted her, this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe.
He leaned up, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Beatrice gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Beatrice looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about her boyfriend. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Liam... baby... slow down,... we... we can't..." she moaned, even as her body pressed against his. "I've still not quite sure what's going on."
Liam didn't listen. He just pulled her close, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down to her pussy.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Mmm... yes, Liam. Yes, touch me. Touch me there."
Liam slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling her clit as he began to fuck her with his hand. Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building again, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
"Cum with me, Beatrice," he gasped, his body shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
Beatrice screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their breaths coming in quick gasps, Liam knew that something incredible had happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. But he also knew that he couldn't deny the love and passion he felt for this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe. And he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his, forever.
As they laid there, their bodies entwined and their hearts pounding with a mix of love and lust, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And he was more than ready for it. Whatever it may bring.
Liam lay on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation as he watched Chloe, his gorgeous redheaded girlfriend, saunter towards him. Her naked body was a vision of perfection, her E-cup tits bouncing gently with each step. She giggled, seeing the hunger in his eyes.
"Well, looks like someone's eager," Chloe teased, her voice a sweet melody that sent shivers down Liam's spine.
Liam grinned, his cock already hard and ready. "Always for you, Chloe. I've been waiting for you."
Chloe climbed onto the bed, her body straddling his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft, gentle caress that quickly deepened into a passionate, hungry dance. Liam's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs.
Chloe moaned softly, her body pressing against his as she felt his hard cock against her stomach. She reached down, her hand wrapping around his length as she guided him to her entrance. With a soft sigh, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely.
Liam groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet her as they began to move together. Chloe's body was a perfect fit for his, her pussy wet and tight as it clenched around him. He reached up, his hands cupping her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
Chloe threw her head back, her red hair cascading down her back as she moaned with pleasure. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that."
Liam thrust harder, his body moving in a fast, urgent rhythm. Chloe met each thrust, her body bouncing against his as their moans filled the room. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like music to their ears, a symphony of their love and passion.
Liam could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge. Chloe seemed to sense it too, her body clenching around him as she moaned louder.
"Cum with me, Liam," she gasped, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
With a final thrust, Liam cried out, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot cum filling Chloe completely. Chloe screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm.
But as their bodies shook with the intensity of their climax, something strange began to happen. Chloe's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
Suddenly, Chloe screamed, her body convulsing with a different kind of force. Liam watched in shock as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her hair darkening and lengthening, her face morphing into that of a stranger.
The glow faded, and in place of Chloe was a middle-aged British woman with massive O-cup tits and a body that was both familiar and alien. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked around in confusion.
"Blimey, what was that?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of shock and amusement. She looked down at Liam, her eyes widening in surprise. "Liam! You silly boy, what are you doing down there? I didn't know you were here. Silly me."
Liam stared up at her, his mouth open in shock. "Chloe? Wha... what happened to you?"
The woman, who was once Chloe, giggled, her large breasts bouncing with the movement. "Chloe? Who's Chloe? It's me, Beatrice, you silly boy. Have you been playing games with me again?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
"Beatrice?" he said, his voice hesitant. "You... you don't remember?"
Beatrice giggled again, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Remember what, silly? I'm your girlfriend, Beatrice. Been with you for donkey's years. Now come on, out you get. A lady needs her space after such a... Such whatever that was."
Liam pulled out of her, his cock still hard, still glistening with their combined juices. Beatrice looked down at it, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Well, would you look at that," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "Aren't you an eager little beaver?"
Liam grinned, his heart pounding with a mix of lust and excitement. He knew that this was wrong, that something incredible and impossible had just happened. But he also knew that he wanted her, this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe.
He leaned up, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Beatrice gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Beatrice looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about her boyfriend. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Liam... baby... slow down,... we... we can't..." she moaned, even as her body pressed against his. "I've still not quite sure what's going on."
Liam didn't listen. He just pulled her close, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down to her pussy.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Mmm... yes, Liam. Yes, touch me. Touch me there."
Liam slid two fingers into her, his thumb circling her clit as he began to fuck her with his hand. Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building again, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
"Cum with me, Beatrice," he gasped, his body shaking with the intensity of his own orgasm. "Cum with me!"
Beatrice screamed with him, her body convulsing with the force of her own orgasm. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their breaths coming in quick gasps, Liam knew that something incredible had happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. But he also knew that he couldn't deny the love and passion he felt for this new woman, this stranger who was once his Chloe. And he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his, forever.
As they laid there, their bodies entwined and their hearts pounding with a mix of love and lust, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And he was more than ready for it. Whatever it may bring.
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Plot
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
This strange erotic story tells you about a teenage boy named Nicky and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena, who gets transformed by her boyfriend's amulet from the old magic shop that turns her into an ideal mom and has sex with. Not only that, he will continue to change her any moms or MILFs he wants to fuck.
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My adolescent, unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny, schoolgirl
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My adolescent, unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny, schoolgirl
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
Then one day my wish came true.
"The first time it happened was when I shapechanged into a friend by
accident," I admitted, reluctantly.
"How did that happen?" asked Jo. She was starting to relax a little,
her head canted slightly so that her wavy red hair draped languidly
into her face. She'd taken her goggles off since the fight, revealing
eyes that were large, gray-tinted and beautiful. They were familiar.
I'd once looked through those eyes and I remembered the crystal clarity
of their vision. "Was it some kind of big, colorful manifestation?" she
insisted.
"No, nothing like that." I stopped to clear my throat before going on.
"Only I knew anything had happened. I was hanging with my pal and just
patted them on the shoulder, all friendly. Then there was this 'zap'
feeling as I touched them, like a small electric shock. Suddenly I
could feel their shape in my head. It was like I held the blueprints
for their body in my mind. It made me feel weird. I didn't actually
shapechange properly until later. Not 'til I got home."
There was a lot I'd left out of this description. The friend had been
Bill, my bud at school. He's a smart, funny guy. Good grades. Good
enough at sports and the social round to be at the centre of several
circles. He hung with the nerd crowd and played in our World of
Warcraft clan. He was our natural leader and the organizer of many
online raids and stunts.
That time I'd felt the zap, the experience had left me feeling so
queasy and sick that I crawled home, leaving Bill at the arcade where
we'd been hanging. I stumbled into my bed complaining of a stomachache
and asked Mom to stop fussing and leave me alone. I dozed off and when
I woke up I was in Bill's body--or at least a copy of it--looking
through his eyes and breathing his air.
"Who was this friend of yours?" Jo asked, trying to gently lever her
way past my defenses. I licked my dry lips and tried to fend her off.
"Can we leave my friends out of it, Jo?" I briefly felt assertive and
defensive of my privacy. "They have nothing to do with this. I
discovered I could touch people and get an impression of their form
from the physical contact. Once it was in my head I could change into
that imprinted form and back again."
Jo wisely let it drop. "Did you use the power much once you'd mastered
it?"
"Uh, yeah. I experimented."
Yes, I experimented. A lot.
Of course, there was Bill's body at first. I wasn't really sure how I
had come to change, and after the initial panic it was a while before I
realized that my mind seemed to hold imprints of my old and new bodies.
I could focus on the ghostly shape there and swap between his body and
mine as easy as moving from one train of thought to another. It didn't
take more than five or six seconds to transform and it was painless. My
entire body would bubble with a weird energy, then it would flow and
gel into the new shape and become solid again.
I soon discovered the power's first limitation. It didn't work on
clothes, leaving me wearing whatever I had on before the change. That
would be a source of occasional embarrassment in the times to come.
As Bill it was disconcerting to have his bulk, his muscle, his senses,
and even his man-parts. Yeah, that felt icky at first. But once I felt
comfortable shifting back and forth between forms I test-drove his
body. I was impressed by how different a climax felt; it seemed to go
on longer than in my own physique.
All this, of course, was in secret, in the warm privacy of my bedroom
or the shower; anywhere my parents couldn't see me. There was no way I
was going to tell Mom or Pop about this and I was never going to admit
amything to Bill.
I spent a week trying to figure out the power, trying to master it. I
wondered if it was a one-off so I tried imprinting other friends from
school. All it took was some handshakes and backslaps and I soon also
had the imprints of three other friends. Having four phantom shapes
floating at the back of my consciousness was distracting and made it
hard to concentrate. I was glad when, after a few days, they began to
fade away.
However, while I held their imprints each change catapulted me into an
exhilarating new world of sensation. Each body had its own signature
characteristics, slightly different from my own. John's vision had an
acuity that profoundly changed the way I looked at the universe. The
colors I saw through his eyes seemed so much more vibrant. Tanc was
blessed with sharp hearing and I could make out sounds and voices more
easily from the tumble of background noise, while Raul possessed a
sense of smell so fine that I could make out olfactory notes I never
knew existed.
There were other unexpected differences. Muscles stretched and twanged
in unfamiliar ways. John's body seemed more flexible than the others
while in Raul's form my hands felt pudgy and clumsy. Tanc's legs seemed
so long compared to my own that I kept stumbling as I walked. Shifts in
height or reach could be a minefield, as they changed my perception of
distances and space. Even mundane alterations could be striking. In
each body I had a different heartbeat, an alien breathing rhythm, the
altered tang of saliva in my mouth and the feel of a new set of teeth
against my tongue.
Practicing the changes I found I could control the imprinting so that
it didn't happen on every physical contact. The transformations were
coming easy now and the overwhelming rush of the impressions didn't
make me feel sick like the first time.
I felt I was ready to try the biggest change yet. I wanted to become a
girl.
This was something I didn't want to mention to Jo. This was all about
sex, okay? Pure gratification. I was this lanky geek, a horny teen
who'd never dated yet was forced to swim in the hormone-charged
environment of high school. I felt I was missing what other guys at
school seemed to be getting, and that was pussy.
But now I could change my physical form to whomever I was able to touch
and imprint. Who needed to date a woman if you could become one? This
fever dream began to exterminate all rational thought. I started to
fantasize about transforming into a hot chick and checking myself out.
As soon as the idea of changing into a girl began to careen across my
imagination, I began to form a plan. I wanted to become someone foxy-
looking, of course. By a shaky process of logic I concluded that I
should imprint a person I'd never met and who didn't know me. So I set
my trap at the Mall.
If this sounds like stalkerish behavior, well, I plead that this was a
victimless crime. I wasn't going to attack anyone, just touch them for
a moment, imprint their physical pattern and then I'd be gone. However,
I didn't want any awkward questions, so to disguise myself I changed
into John's tall, rangy body. His was the closest shape to mine, I
wasn't too clumsy in it and I could wear the same clothes in both
forms. I biked down to the Mall and hung about the marble air-
conditioned concourse, watching people walk by and rating the women on
a one to ten scale.
It took a while to find the right subject. Most of the women were too
old or too young, too fat or thin. There were lumpen women, saggy
women, girls with lived-in faces. There were some who looked great at a
distance and as they walked closer did not look so hot. And there were
some who were pretty, but not pretty enough. I had this great power and
arrogantly felt I could afford to pick and choose.
Eventually I saw what I wanted: she was definitely a nine out of ten, a
lovely brunette with lustrous, shoulder-length hair. The woman was a
twenty-something, with an oval face and dazzling eyes that were kissed
with a dash of green. She had a small, straight nose and a generous
mouth with inviting lips. Her figure was slim-waisted and wide-hipped,
with what looked like shapely legs beneath her pants, and she wore a
stretch top that barely contained her generous breasts. I watched them
move as she did, bobbing in sympathy with her walk. The woman's well-
tanned arms were bare, which was ideal for me to make contact, and she
was alone, window shopping outside the chic clothes stores with a bag
swinging from her shoulder. Heart in my mouth I approached her from the
side.
"Hi Julie!" I said to her, all enthusiasm and bonhomie. I had no idea
who Julie was; it was the first name that came to mind. I lightly
touched the woman's arm, just long enough to feel the zap and rush of
the imprint. Startled, her head snapped to look at me, hair whirling
and mouth open. I was momentarily transfixed; she looked really
beautiful. But before she could say anything I immediately launched
into an apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, backing out of her
personal space. "From a distance I thought you were my friend. My bad,
I'm real sorry."
"No, uh, it's okay," she said and gave an embarrassed laugh. Her voice
was light and friendly. She hadn't felt the imprint process. None of
them ever do, though I saw her hand absently brush the skin where I'd
touched her.
"Look, I'd better go!" I said, thumbing toward the exit. "I gotta find
my friend Julie. Again, I'm sorry about the mistake!" Heart-in-mouth I
dashed outside to the lonely concrete post where I'd shackled my
mountain bike. I took a moment to morph back into my own shape and then
pedaled back home as fast as my legs could take me.
I almost never made it. My limbs were shaking from the adrenalin rush
of what I'd just done. And then there was the imprint of the woman's
body, which was beginning to fill my senses.
It's hard to articulate how an imprint feels. It's like a new sense, a
spectral memory of a body shape on the edge of my consciousness. On
that bike ride I could feel the outline of this woman's physical form
and it was making me horny. My dick was so hard I could barely pedal.
This was different from the guy forms I'd impressed. Almost as if it
could touch them my mind could make out the fleshy physicality of
breasts, the curve of a waist and an unfamiliar space between my
thighs. It's a wonder I didn't orgasm in my shorts.
Back in the house, I ran thumpety-thump upstairs and locked myself in
the antiseptic privacy of the bathroom. I stripped in a hurry, clumsily
hurling off shoes, shirt and pants until they were strewn across the
floor. Then my hands, on autopilot, pushed down my shorts and began to
stroke and jerk my dick, which was hard, hot and sleek. I felt an urge
to ejaculate before I transformed. But the weight of the strange,
feminine imprint on my psyche was too great. My mind kept flicking to
the ghostly sensations of tits, ass and clit. The feeling of male
orgasm began to build, but I couldn't stop the deep desire to change
from overwhelming me. Just as I was about to come I began to morph and
my penis shrunk back out of my hands. I was suddenly robbed of my
ability to orgasm, leaving a momentary ache where my balls had been. In
seconds, I was all woman, standing naked save for the shorts pooling
around my ankles. In the bathroom mirror I could see a bloom of sweat
across my heaving chest while the hand that had held my dick now
grasped at empty air in front of my pussy.
Not for the first time I was to discover that there's a disjoint
between looking at a pretty girl and actually occupying her body. This
is especially true when your only experience of hot women comes from
airbrushed photos on the internet. There's a rude reality you have to
face up to. This close I could see the myriad tiny flaws of a real
woman's form. I had fine hairs on my arms, enlarged pores on my skin,
tiny wrinkles near my eyes and a barely perceptible bend in my nose,
along with a dozen other irritating defects. Already my long, dark hair
was wandering into my face to itch and scratch at my nose and my hands
rose up to flick it away with long-nailed fingers.
Suddenly I was aware of padding in places that were unfamiliar. My ass
and thighs felt unusually plump, as if the world around my tuchas began
a long way away. Then there was the mass of flesh tugging at my chest
muscles. I had breasts that were big, but without a bra to hold them
they just sagged back against my body and looked uneven, one larger
than the other.
My cans were nothing like the firm mountains I'd imagined they'd be.
They shivered like jello and yielded to the slightest touch. A tracery
of veins tracked across a skin that blazed with pale bikini triangles.
My hands mashed my boobs then lifted them, feeling their heft and
fleshy weight. Something carnal stirred in my chest and crotch as
fingernails brushed the hardening blobs of my redcurrant nipples and
their large surrounds. It was different from a hard-on. This arousal
was more like a heavy heat that made my skin more sensitive, that made
me conscious of the secret new spaces inside of me.
Suddenly the flaws didn't matter any more and my hands were all over my
body. It was almost like I didn't have enough fingers to stroke, touch
and pinch at all the parts of my new physique. Playing with my breasts
was sensational, feeling a horny thrill prickle back from behind the
teats and make its way to my cootchie, which became tremendously wet. I
hadn't anticipated how rapidly this warmth and moistness in my loins
would build. My face flushed and I felt as if I was starting to glow.
As the excitement increased I caressed my flat belly, with its firm
abs, and cupped the swell of my ass. It was a lovely peach-skinned
behind, soft and satisfyingly round.
And then, after exploring the slick sensitivity of my inner thighs,
which staggered me and almost made me fall on the floor, I began to
quest at the soft folds of skin around my vagina. I was about to slip
one nailed finger gingerly in to the hot wetness when a voice from
downstairs rose up and drenched me like a cold shower. It was Mom
calling me down for lunch. I cursed a streak in a soft soprano and then
stood there, staring angrily around the spotless expanse of the
bathroom. The spell was broken and the exquisite sexual heat of my
girl-body was cooling. Reluctantly, I focused for long enough to shift
back to my own shape, feeling its bony angles develop and my balls
drop. I felt a deep resentment at having to give up the exotic
experience of being a woman and return to my original form. I wiped
myself where girl-juices had dripped a slick, solitary trail down the
inside of one thigh, then got dressed and went downstairs to a
miserable meal.
From that day on I would have to hunt for private moments to explore my
feminine form. Often this was at night when I was safe in bed and the
house was suspended in sleep. In the stillness, with the warm urban
nightlight filtering through the blinds, I'd transform beneath the
sheets. My skinny awkwardness would subside and swell into supple
curves, reshaping the bedclothes. My head would suddenly be pillowed by
a mass of soft hair.
I'd lay there for a while, absorbing the new rhythms, the breathing and
heartbeat, of this limber body. I'd taste my sweet saliva and explore
my perfect, regular teeth with my tongue. Then slowly, in an act of
seduction, I'd start to play with myself in the dark. Slim hands would
flutter across my breasts as they puddled on my chest. Fingers would
delicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making my
body writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and a
ragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,
sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hot
moistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. Then
I'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdraw
a wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk of
my sex.
The first time I climaxed it was difficult to keep the noise down and I
lay in bed, gasping, feeling buzzy and blissed out. It was nothing like
the urgent surge of my male orgasms. This was more like a tide, a rise
and fall of sensation and emotion. Exhausted, I dozed off, still
encased in a female body. I was fortunate not to be discovered before I
woke and could change back.
I kept this pattern of exploration up for almost two weeks, excited by
my female shape and entranced by its otherness. I'd lock myself in my
room all evening, enjoying the experience of being a woman. I felt more
relaxed in this form, and was becoming increasingly comfortable with
it. As the sensation of breasts and vagina became familiar, I started
to appreciate the rest of what I thought of as my 'Julie body'. I loved
the line formed by my slim waist and broad hips, and the way my center
of gravity seemed to shift downwards. I admired the shapliness of my
legs and how even the back of my knees seemed to be an erogenous zone.
I would spend some evenings playing World of Warcraft in my Julie
shape, typing chat messages to friends. They couldn't see me, of
course. They didn't realize that I was now a hottie, sitting at a
screen clad only in a bathrobe, a stray boob just poking out from
behind the towelling. That gave me a secret thrill for as long as it
lasted, but I'd always have to change back whenever we raided, as our
guild used voice chat to communicate. I contemplated creating a new
game account, a new identity in which I could be a woman all the time,
and I wondered how differently my friends would respond to a girl's
voice.
Now I could turn into a sexy girl at will, I became obsessed with
clothing and tried to see how much of my wardrobe would fit a figure
that was shorter, but curved in new places. I pulled on a T-shirt that
squashed my chest flat, then fondled my boobs through the taut fabric.
That was so arousing that I tried my swimming briefs on. They stretched
pleasingly over the plumpness of my ass but bunched into unsightly
folds at the crotch. At least there was plenty of space there to reach
a hand inside and rub my vajayjay.
My boy clothes were all the wrong cut and didn't feel comfortable or
sexy enough. I wondered what it felt like to try on some women's
clothing. One Saturday afternoon, while my parents were visiting a
distant uncle, I stayed home and nervously snuck into the sacred space
of my mother's wardrobe. Mom was in her late thirties and, my friends
reckoned, had kept her looks. Amongst the racks of clothes I found
something that I thought I could squeeze my girl form into.
I took it down from its hanger, a simple knee-length dress with a
conservative floral pattern. I stripped nude, unzipped the back and
stepped into it, feeling a thrill as I pulled it up. The dress slid up
my legs, but then got stuck at my ass. I had to spend a few minutes
working my curves into it, inch by inch. By the time I'd managed, with
some effort, to zip it (mostly) up the back, everything felt
constricted and fit to burst. I could barely move for fear of something
ripping.
I found Mom's shoes in the wardrobe and was disappointed to find, after
forcing my feet into a pair of pumps, that they pinched badly. I stood
in front of the mirror, wrapped too tight to move, my bust squashed to
overflowing while wobbling precariously on Mom's heels. I was not
comfortable, and yet the whole experience of dressing as a woman made
the experience more thrilling, more sexy. I was turned on by the sight
of myself in a dress. When I clutched my breasts through the fabric my
body responded with strong arousal, straining at the confining apparel.
There was no way I could diddle myself like this, so I levered off the
dressâ€"an operation as difficult as getting it onâ€"and looked for what
else I could try. Mom's underwear drawer netted a pair of silky panties
that stretched satisfyingly over my smooth behind. I was disappointed
to find that her bras were far too small for my capacious chest, but in
another drawer I found a striped bikini top that could just about be
made to fit, though it barely cupped my boobs
So in this mismatched outfit of bikini bra, panties and two-inch pumps,
I flopped onto my parents' bed and began to touch myself. I was now
expert in arousing my girl-body. I swiftly felt the wetness come and
then rammed my hand down the sheer front of Mom's underwear to start
the gentle stirring and flicking that would bring me to climax.
This shape was addictive. But there was something else, besides the
erotic sensation of girl flesh, that brought me back to this body. I
was now an attractive woman. I felt desirable. Who would reject someone
who looked at hot as me? People would at last pay me the attention I
never received as a guy.
I climaxed and lay panting, legs akimbo on the bed. The bikini bra was
askew on my chest, the panties were pushed down across my thighs and
those too-tight high heels dug into the bedcover. I must have looked a
mess. As I lay in the afterglow I contemplated going out dressed as a
woman, but I hadn't the guts and I had nothing that fitted.
Days passed and I soon discovered a new limitation of my powers. So
long as the imprint remained fresh, the change was easy. When I
transformed each night I retained a pristine memory of the body shape.
It would even retain changes from the night before, such as the time I
tried shaving my pubic hair, creating a stubbly patch and a couple of
small razor nicks that reappeared each time I changed.
However, if I didn't change into a form regularly, its imprint would
degrade. School and chores and late nights hanging with my friends
online in World of Warcraft finally got the better of me. Exhausted, I
began to go straight to sleep without changing as soon as I hit the
hay. So when, after skipping a couple of nights, I tried to shapeshift
again I realized that my memory of 'Julie' had partially faded.
I focussed on the imprint and felt the usual tingle of morphing, but
the result petered out into an incomplete change. It felt all wrong.
When I stripped and looked in the mirror I appeared to be half man and
half woman. I checked my face and it was partly feminized with Julie's
and nose and the mass of her soft hair framing my features. Though my
hips had widened and my ass had swelled into its familiar proportions,
my waist was still thick and below the abdomen my genitals remained
male, though shriveled and weeny. My narrow chest sported a pair of
tiny, pointed mounds like those of a pubescent girl.
I tried to play with this androgynous physique, but it didn't function
properly. My unfilled breasts ached slightly, as if in
growing pains, and rubbing them only made them sore. It took an age to
bring my tiny dick and balls to climax. It was really difficult to jerk
myself when my penis was so small. At the moment I came barely anything
came out and the pleasure it gave was miniscule and unsatisfying.
The realization that I'd lost the woman's imprint was like a
bereavement. I had become accustomed to that body's comfort and poise
and cursed myself for letting it disappear. I'd never find that woman
again and so I sulked for a day, wondering what to do. Then I resolved
to search for some new bodies to replace hers. I picked out the most
attractive girls in my classes and found ways to imprint them without
getting too touchy-feely. I could now handle three imprints without
much distraction. It wasn't long before I had a new parade of imprinted
shapes. I could feel their exotic forms at the edges of my
consciousness.
With three girl bodies stored safely away my nights became a carnival
of solo sex, enjoyed between the sheets of my bed. The experience of
wearing the new bodies was mind-blowing.
The first shape I tried on was that of a girl named Tani. She was an
ash blonde with a nondescript, almost homely face, but her incredible
curves meant she was much in demand with the boys. It took a gentle
touch of her hand in class to capture her form. Back at home when I
changed bodies that first time I had the brief sensation of feeling
inflated, like a Michelin man. As I adjusted to the shift of fleshy
ballast my sense of balance was thrown. Then I looked in the mirror to
check myself out. Tani possessed a fabulous hourglass with a broad
carriage and heavy breasts sagging down her ribcage, aureoles like
bruised circles.
It didn't take long to put Tani's nimble fingers to work, exploring and
circumnavigating my new frame. Tani was not fat, but her voluptuousness
was such that transitioning from my lean male body to hers was like
being zippered into a padded suit. I began to play with my tits, which
hung like ripe eggplants from my chest, but found they were less
sensitive than in my last girl body. The doughy masses seemed to get in
the way when I moved and were hot and a little uncomfortable. However,
as my hands slid down below the slight swell of my/Tani's belly, I
discovered her vulva. Even before I could enter myself, I felt
something dilate and in moments I was in flood. Tani's clit was a
beautiful instrument to play with; a sleek knot of nerve-endings that
slipped beneath my fingers. Its responses were so acute that in my
nocturnal explorations I had to be careful not to moan as I stroked and
worked it towards a climax. My middle finger sucked and popped as I
thrust it in and out of Tani's, no MY wet vagina. I worked it hard
with rapid little motions, tension brewing until I crested the wave and
came. In Tani's body orgasms were vast and emotional, washing over me
in great beach-breakers, leaving me quietly sobbing, unable to staunch
the tears.
Over the days that followed I kept coming back to Tani's pillowy form.
Her pussy became mine each night and it had me entranced. I began to
use bananas, whisked from the fruit bowl, as improvised dildos,
slipping them between my lips then pushing them gently and deeper
inside until the sensation was so great I could barely breathe. Jerking
the fruit back and forwards in my vagina I seemed to discover new
spots. These broadcast dizzying thrills that made my limbs jerk and my
hips squirm. Here was a luxurious body that screamed for sex. It was a
peak I needed to come down from.
By contrast with Tani, Shelley was a slender, apple-cheeked girl with
the beautiful, elastic body of a ballerina. In class I had fallen for
her smiling eyes and toothsome grin, framed by a bob of dark hair. It
took a momentary touch when handing her a book to steal her imprint.
When I morphed into Shelley's frisky form I discovered she had the most
amazing boobs. They were small, high and barely needed any support.
They came with delightful cherry nipples that, when aroused, broadcast
intense pleasure. Immediately after changing I would rub my body
against my bed so that my tiny teats would begin to buzz.
It was the closest thing I'd yet tried to my male shape: an energetic
body with a boyish figure that was tight, taut and toned. Shelley had
shaved her pussy and it was lovely to slip my finger into her snug,
moist vagina and tenderly quest for pleasure. It was as Shelley that I
discovered how different women's bodies could be from each other. Her
clitoris was a fleshy bean that needed careful caressing. Orgasms were
less overwhelming than in Tani's form. Rather, they were like sharp
peaks of erotic sensation coursing from tip to toe and winding back up
between my legs. But unlike Tani, where each climax would leave me
spent and emotionally wrecked, as Shelley I could rouse myself to
consecutive orgasms, and often did.
I developed a new masturbation technique in Shelley's body. I would
bring myself close to climax and then change back to my boy form.
Suddenly my dick would rear up, aroused and coated in Shelley's girl
juices. With a few slick jerks of my hand I would orgasm, spurting
thick ropes of semen onto my stomach. Immediately I would change back
into a girl and lay there, cum pooling on my baby-soft belly, using my
fingers to rub the sour-smelling semen up onto my tiny
boobs, where I'd lubricate the tips. I once even tried a taste and
found it wasn't that bad. I briefly fantasized about making Shelley's
body pregnant with my own seed, until cold reality dawned and made me
drop the idea like a lead anvil. I had no idea of what havoc pregnancy
would play with my power and I feared getting stuck in that form.
The last of the trio of imprints was that of Lita, a beautiful Asian
girl with a heart-shaped face and full, kissable lips. It was odd to
look in the mirror and, with a finger, gently trace the sharp
epicanthic fold above my dark brown eyes. Her body was well
proportioned, with elegant lines and shapely legs.
Lita's chest was a modest pair of ice cream scoops, with up-tilted
nipples. But I found her boobs thrilling to fondle and they felt
comfortable in a way that Tani's enormous knockers had not. Again, the
response to sex felt different than in my other shapes. In this lithe
body my orgasms were relaxing releases of nervous energy that made me
want to sink into drowsy torpor.
The best thing about Lita was that she was the same height and slim
shape as my mother. I waited until my folks went away again before I
stole once more into my parents' bedroom to play with Mom's clothes.
Naked, I slipped on a pair of four-inch pumps and discovered that Lita
could wear Mom's shoes. With a little practice I could walk in them
comfortably, my trim fanny figure-eighting as I strolled across the
room. Mom's bras were just the right size to pack my perky bosom into
and I soon found myself encased in an underwired lace brassiere and
matching panties. I felt so hot and sexy it was all I could do to stop
myself dancing.
Dresses, pants and blouses fitted perfectly and I spent an exciting day
dressing up. I learned to walk in a skirt, which felt so strange
compared to pants. I marveled at the sheerness of a peach color silk
teddy sliding against my skin. I admired myself in a side-tie bikini
while still wearing those shiny heels that seemed to elongate my nice
legs even further. I put on a black party frock and paraded up and down
the bedroom, feeling it swish around me. I knew I had here a wardrobe I
could go out in, even if it was for someone a little older.
With three bodies at my command this was the happy time. I was sorta
getting sex, even if it was by masturbating. I would change two or
three times every night to keep the imprint of each girl-shape fresh.
The power did wonders for my self-esteem and I found that even in my
male body I was beginning to act more confident and assertive in
company.
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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…
During a dream, humankind gets a vision of an upcoming event: each individual on earth will soon be merged with someone of the opposite sex.
***
Prologue
One day, Humanity shared a common dream. Every person on Earth, as they slept, dreamt the same vision. In it, they could see themselves and others pulled toward someone of the other sex. As their two bodies collided, they were becoming one single being. One body of two minds. As people woke up, they could feel it: a deep knowledge that it wasn’t only a dream, but some kind of prophecy.
The pragmatics thought of it as Mother Nature fighting against human overpopulation. The poets preferred to think it was a restitution to our primal form where men and women were only the two halves of the same entities.
Sure, there were a few deniers, like there’s always some for Climate Change, but most people knew this day would soon come, the day of an event they soon started to call The Great Merge.
***
Sean
My name, at that time in that place, was Sean. In a few days, I was officially starting college there in my hometown, while my girlfriend Ann was moving away for her studies. I wasn’t particularly worried about it: our relationship had started as early as middle school and was so strong I knew it could even survive years and years of distance. But still, we wouldn’t be able to spend each day together like we did until now, so I wasn’t looking forward to it. To add to the injury, Ann was going to pursue a brilliant career in the medical field thanks to her perfect grades while my medium scores and not-so-wealthy family confined me to a local community college. I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous.
“Don’t worry, honey. It’s just a matter of time anyway. We’ll be one in no time, so we’ll enjoy my new university together soon enough!”
That’s what Ann was always telling me when I shared my mixed feelings towards our future. We were often seen as the perfect couple. I believed in her love for me as much as mine for her. So when the Dream occurred, it was only natural for us to conclude we would fuse with one another. Even if the idea of losing their identity was scary for everyone, Ann and I felt like it was the most romantic thing that could happen to us. There was excitement mixed in the fear. But what if the Great Merge happened while she was away? Would it still work? Would it make her merge with a random dude from her school? Nobody knew for sure, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance, that’s why I was making sure to be with her as much as I could since the Dream.
Enjoying our last moments of summer, we were spending the afternoon at my friend Jason’s place. Jason's family was quite wealthy and owned a big house with a pool, so it was often him inviting us over and during summer vacation, we almost spent more time there than in our own houses. I stared dreamily at Ann as she got out of the bathroom in her newly brought red bikini. “Wow…” I was the luckiest man on earth. She was wearing her wavy brown hair in a ponytail and her usual fair skin had taken a golden hue from all our time here. An angel. Not only was she the smartest girl I knew with her already mentioned unparalleled academic prowess, she was the most beautiful in the whole world. Sure, I don’t claim I was the most objective, but still. Those green eyes, that cute little nose, and that damn smile… An embarrassed smile that, at that moment, was asking me why I was still looking at her like the first day we met.
“I swear next time I’m going in a diving suit.” she joked.
“Pretty sure you’d still rock it anyway.” I replied.
I loved how humble she managed to stay despite her perfect hourglass figure. She always had this shyness when it came to our desires for one another. I knew she had a kinky side that she was always too embarrassed to show me, like those erotic comics she hid in her room, or the way she blushed when watching a sex scene in a movie. Her modesty was probably the only thing I could see as a default about her personality. She could be a bit passive during our intimacy, but really it was nit-picking. Because yes, having the brain and the looks wasn’t enough for her, she also had to be the most kind-hearted person, making her popular not only with the teachers but every student in our old school.
“Come on, love birds. there’s only a few hours of sun left already!” called out Jason.
He was a great friend. Very sporty, outgoing, and full of confidence. I wasn't especially lacking in that department myself –how could I with Ann at my side– but I've always been a lot more reserved. He had sandy blond hair and a radiant smile that felt very inviting, making him the target of lots of girls' attention.
"Carrie's not here?" I asked him.
"Nah, we split yesterday," he answered casually.
Nothing to be surprised about, it was bound to happen. Jason's adventures never lasted long, as he could be very frivolous. He liked girls but not much commitment, and they often felt insecure in their relationship with him because of his popularity. He never cheated on them, but never reassured them much either. That was the same story with his previous girlfriend.
"Aww, too bad. I really liked Carrie, she was sweet," said Ann who was holding my hand as we walked to the pool area.
A big sliding door was opening directly on the bluest pool, taking much of the space. On our right was a neatly mown lawn and on our left was a stone wall matching the pool’s tiles. At the far end was a big modern pergola shading the lounge chairs under it. There, a familiar silhouette greeted us: “Hey, guys!”
The squeaky voice belonged to Jason's little sister Sheril. The little goblin was always clinging to us like a tick. I cringed at the harsh thought. She wasn't THAT bad. Sheril was a sophomore in our old high school. My guess was that, like most girls from her grade, she saw Ann as a role model or something, and because of that, she spent as much time as she could with us. She was nice, but often tried to monopolize our attention, talking loudly and frequently interrupting us. At the beginning of the vacation, Jason had tried to get rid of her multiple times but quickly forfeited as he often did with her relentless stubbornness. Ann didn't seem to mind her as much as I did as she always seemed impossible to annoy. For that reason, I had to also give up, just trying to ignore her as much as I could.
"How are you today? Do you want to play a game of tag or something? Hey, Ann! Have you seen my new ribbons? I bought them yesterday with Mom. She says they match with my eyes, what do you think?" She started rumbling as she jumped out of the chair and skipped around like a pestering fly.
Despite soon starting her last year of high school, Sheril was quite short for her age, not very developed, and wore her blonde hair in characteristic long and curly pigtails. Because of that, she could almost fool people into thinking she was still a child. Her current swimsuit, a white one-piece with pink flowers, was not helping her case. Despite that, she was definitely cute in her own way. She had big and very light blue eyes. Her button nose and rosy cheeks were covered in freckles and her overall facial features were free of imperfections. She had great potential if she started acting and dressing like her age, but for now, it was difficult to see more in her than a pesky kid.
I gave Ann a knowing smile and let her tank Sheril's attention for the moment. She didn't seem to mind and patiently responded to her endless chatting. I dived into the water with Jason for a few laps.
"So... What's your plan for the Great Merge now?" I asked Jason as we chilled on the other side of the pool. It was an obvious question to ask after his breakup with Carrie.
"Dunno, man. Guess I have to find a new girl soon, heh?" He answered, clearly not too worried.
"I mean, I would if I were you. You don't want to merge with your sister, I presume." I smirked.
He splashed water on my face. "Ugh! Please, no. But we have time, right? I mean everyone says it will happen on New Year's Eve.”
It was a popular rumor. There was no way to know for sure, but since the dream happened a few months prior, people were starting to relax to the idea it wouldn't happen right away.
"Maybe, yeah. But you can't be too cautious about that. Plus it's not like you lack the choice of partner. Half the girls in school want to fuck you, man."
He chuckled. "You really think I'm some kind of sex god or something? If you were not already in your perfect little couple, I'd think you have a crush on me, bro."
It was my turn to splash water at him.
"No but seriously, it must be so cool to have no doubts. You're going to spend your life stuck with your soulmate... You're one lucky dude, man." He said with more seriousness than usual.
"Yeah, I guess I am..." I answered, looking at my reflection in the pool. I couldn't mutter the strength to admit I also had doubts. Sure, being the other half of your half, it seemed like destiny, I couldn't deny that. And even if most of my mind was happy with this perspective, another, deeper part was sad. Who would we be in love with once we'd be one single being?
My thoughts were cut short by the sound of Sheril jumping in the pool. She quickly joined us, with Ann more gracefully following behind her.
"Let's play Chicken Fight!" yelled Sheril, a bit too enthusiastically.
"Again?" complained Jason. I shared the feeling: we played Chicken Fight every time we went to their pool. Well, at least it was a good excuse to caress Ann's smooth legs...
"Yes, but let's switch this time! I want to go on Sean's back!" said his sister in her bratty tone.
It took me by surprise. "Huh? Why?"
"Being on Jason is boring. He's, like, the worst horse. I just want to try out, pleaaaase!" she begged.
I wasn't keen on the idea at all, for obvious reasons. I was ready to rebuke the idea when Ann intervened: "Come on, guys. Try to be good sports, it's only for a few rounds."
Of course. Ann, the voice of reason. How could I say no to those eyes? I sighed and accepted. Seeing Jason take Ann on his back raised in me a pinch of jealousy, but I knew it was unfounded since I had complete trust in both of them. I crouched in the shallow water to let Sheril put her scrawny legs around my shoulders. Lifting her was the easiest thing in the world, and that was when I realized how underbalanced our two teams were: generally, Jason's bulk made up for Sheril's weak arms, which could then compete with our more standard duo. Me and Sheril had no chance.
Jason seemed to have done the same math. He grinned at me with his dashing smile, and charged.
"You okay up there?" I asked Sheril when we rose back from the depth, disoriented.
"Uh-huh. Let's try again." She said, sounding less convincing than she probably wanted.
We brawled for a bit, trying to make the most of our only asset: swiftness. Sheril's light weight allowed me to move around as we spared and I could see Jason starting to tire faster than me. Sheril was laughing loudly, apparently enjoying being tossed in multiple directions. I had to admit that I was starting to have fun too as I saw a thin chance of a possible win.
That's when I saw it. I stopped in my tracks, trying to discern what I was witnessing.
Jason rushed to us when he saw me stop, and I had to stop him loudly: "WAIT!" I screamed. It seemed to work as attended. "W-what's going on with your hands?"
Jason's hands were holding firmly on Ann's thighs, but I couldn't seem to find any gaps between their skins. It looked like they were... fused. My heart sank at this thought. No, no, no, no.
Jason, noticing he couldn't move his hands off Ann, was slowly joining me in the realization. He jerked them violently. Instinctively, I tried to do the same, only to understand I was in the same predicament. My head was boiling with fear. Not now, not now, not now…
The girls took a few more seconds to notice, both screaming in horror. I joined sight with Ann. In the middle of her shock, I could see resignation and sadness starting to rise while her eyes were filling with tears. On my back, Sheril was thrusting and swinging like a mad girl, trying desperately to free herself from my hands that were slowly but surely disappearing into her legs. I tried to lift my head to her face, but it was now firmly glued to her crotch, locking my neck in place.
My eyes locked on Jason in front of me, whose hands had already entirely entered Ann. His head had started entering her abdomen. He looked at me with desperation. He said something to me. I couldn't hear anything behind the screams coming from the top, but I managed to read his lips: "I'm so sorry." After that, he walked towards the edge of the pool as his head completely disappeared inside Ann.
I stayed paralyzed for a few more seconds before my survival instinct kicked in. I tried walking too, but Sheril's hysterical tantrum made it impossible as we stumbled into the water more and more. My vision finally blackened. I fought a little more before I was unable to breathe, either because of water or Sheril's body, I couldn't say. My consciousness quickly-
***
Sheril
My name, at that moment in that place, was Sheril. I lived in the Sunny Hills, a calm suburb above the city, with my parents and my big brother Jason. In a few days, I was starting my last year of high school. It was cool in a way: seniors are the ones all the freshmen are looking up to, but who was I kidding? Nobody was looking up to me, figuratively and literally.
I was the scrawniest girl possible. Only Holly was worse in that category, but she had an illness or something, so she didn't count. I had no breasts to speak of, the flattest ass imaginable. Sure I wasn't ugly, but a cute face doesn't make up for the absence of a body.
My friend Sasha always told me I should wear sexier clothes, but she didn't know what she was talking about. She had tits for days, a bit too much even. What does revealing clothes do when you have nothing to reveal, really? Nothing, you just look stupid. I had to play with the cards in my hand, and my only card was cuteness. So I wore cutesy clothes. Not like my mom would have accepted anything more. If I listened to her, I'd go to school in a space suit. I preferred to be called a child than a nun, personally. At least I had a few guys looking at me. Not the right one, though.
Sean had been my big crush since I entered high school. Tall, half-Asian, jet-black hair hiding his deep black eyes... He was just my dream type, like right from a K-pop band. And it wasn't just his looks. He had that aura of mystery. That low and soothing voice. That shy side-smile that let you wonder what he was thinking about... and he was so romantic. The way he cared for his girlfriend was obvious and intense. Because, yes, Sean had a girlfriend. Not only did he have a girl, he had THE girl. Ann was, like, probably in the top 3 most popular girls in the whole school last year. She was so smart and beautiful, it was just unfair. And the worst part is that I couldn't hate the bitch for how nice she was. I was so jealous of her, it hurt. I couldn't help but compare myself all the time.
I was waiting on the lounging chairs, covered in solar cream. Last summer, I had ended up red as a beet, so I didn't want to risk it this time. I lifted a brace from my swimsuit and took a pick: almost no tan lines. I was just not made for summer. Sasha had invited me to join her at the mall, but I had told her I couldn't today. Because as usual, Sean was coming to the house.
“Ah, I hear them,” said Jason as he came out of the pool. “They prolly want to enjoy their last pool day in peace, Sheril, so don’t start pestering them like usual, huh?”
I stuck my tongue out. Gosh, Jason was the worst brother. He always treated me like I was 5 and I was so sick of it. That goof probably thought he was some sort of womanizer with how many girlfriends he had over the years. I knew the truth though: they broke up each time they realized how fucking dumb he was. His friendship with Sean was a mystery I never managed to crack, but I wasn’t complaining: at least my stupid brother was useful for one thing.
I rolled my eyes watching Jason walk back into the house. I pity the girl who’s going to merge with him…, I thought.
On the day of the Dream, I had first hoped I would merge with Ann so I could be with him. But I quickly understood it would only work with a guy. I of course imagined merging with him. It would be quite romantic in a way, but I realized it meant also killing all hopes of going out with him. But hearing them talk about it, I knew Sean and Ann wanted to merge together. It wouldn’t be so bad, actually: if they merged, they wouldn't be a couple anymore, it would be my chance! I just needed the right partner. I knew of a guy in school who had a crush on Ann (like half of them really). He wasn't too shabby so I told him about my plan. He seemed to be on board. Now I only needed to get closer to Sean before the merge, so he could see me as the next best thing!
At that moment, the door from the patio opened and Jason came out with his friends beside him. "Okay, Sheril, stay cool this time," I repeated to myself.
I beamed and greeted them as they arrived, showing them the new ribbons. Sadly, Sean didn't seem to care much and quickly went into the pool with Jason. Of course, I should have guessed ribbons were not the appropriate subject of conversation... stupid. Ann seemed a bit more interested though, and we talked a bit about our recent outfits. Ann has a great sense of fashion, sexy while keeping it modest enough. I wanted to master that, but I had hesitated to go too far in that direction. I didn't want people to see me as a tasteless copycat. Plus, it would hint a bit too much that I was trying to get Sean's intention by mimicking his girlfriend's style.
"Hum, Sheril?" she interrupted my train of thought. "How about we join the boys in the pool? I'm drying up with that sun."
"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" I said, hoping I wasn't bothering her. "Oh! We should go for a game of Chicken Fight! Do you think we can mix up the teams this time?"
I've been waiting to team up with Sean for once, but it was difficult breaking those two up. I hoped that, by asking Ann first, it wouldn't sound too desperate.
She took a second to answer. "Sure, why not? If the guys are okay."
After a bit more convincing, the guys accepted as well. Sweet! The idea of climbing on Sean's shoulders was already making my heart flutter. He lifted me with ease as I took the opportunity to caress his thick dark mane. What a treat! I was thankful to be in a pool at the time, as my face reddened like a tomato... I was soon put out of my daydreaming as the others shoved us into the water without warning. Jason was his usual brute, of course.
As I climbed back, Sean asked me if everything was alright. I felt like his personal little princess, it was magical! The second round went better. Sean was moving me around so much that I couldn't help myself laughing. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and yelled. "WAIT!"
I was surprised by the abruptness. "What's going on?" I asked, but Sean didn't react. Instead, he addressed Jason, asking him about his hands. I didn't understand, but I could feel my partner's body tensing underneath me. My brother started shaking around violently, and I finally saw it: his hands were stuck to Ann's legs. Not just stuck: fused, like tin on a circuit board. I screamed in horror and tried to get off Sean. No dice. "WHAT'S GOING ON!? WHAT'S GOING ON!?"
They couldn't answer me, too focused on their own thoughts and feelings. My mind was too alarmed to think straight, but as much as I tried to pull myself off his shoulder, I only felt like I was sinking deeper inside him. I finally understood as I saw my brother's face completely disappear inside Ann. The Merge, it was happening. I was merging with Sean! I didn't want to, I wasn't ready to die. I wasn't ready to become someone else. I cried and cried and pulled harder. In the end, Sean fell into the water. I couldn't break free. We were about to drown and I couldn't break free. My last sensation was his head moving inside my belly. How odd...
***
The Wake
Air pulling inside my lungs woke me in shock and pain. A mouth was on mine. I jerked away and coughed out a bunch of chlorine-filled water, the chemical smell stinking up my nose. My lungs were on fire, and it took me a few minutes of coughing to start breathing somewhat regularly again. Even more painful was my head. My brain felt like a throbbing core and my memories were in shambles. I couldn't think of anything before my wake without it burning my frontal lobe.
I focused on my environment. The sun was beating hard on my skin. The pool, yes. I know this place. I must have drowned. My chest felt compressed by a very tight fabric. A silhouette was shielding the beams from my eyes. I could only discern a vague shape. I should know them... my brother? I called the name that came to my mind: "J-jason? Is that... you?" my voice was weak in my biting throat.
The silhouette didn't respond, and got out of my sight, blinding me with the light. Jason... my brother? He's not, though. I don't have siblings... or do I? I decided to sit up to collect my thoughts. Keeping my eyes low to restore my sight, it was then that I saw my body for the first time. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, but I was certain without a doubt that it wasn't that. Something seemed wrong. I was bigger... or smaller? Definitely bigger in some areas, at least. I was wearing a loose swimming trunk over a constricting flowery one-piece. Both gears felt weird and familiar at the same time. What didn't feel familiar was the breasts on my chest. It was a lot bigger than what I was used to. It made sense since I wasn't used to anything at all... right?
My creamy white skin was sticky with solar protection. A reassuring fact since the sun was beating me for who knows how long. I crawled to the shady part of the patio, under the pergola. My mind was slowly but surely coming back to me. I was in my house. I was spending time with my friend and his sister, my girlfriend and my brother... and his friends. The number didn't seem right. Most of the common knowledge was still here, the hazy part was about my daily life. Too many incoherences.
As I sat back on my strangely ample bosom, on the darker side, I could see more clearly. Someone else was here, curled up against the decorative brick wall. They were holding their knees, staring into space. A girl, at first glance, though fairly muscular, with a boyish haircut. Her face... she looked like my girlfriend Ann. Ann... There was no doubt Ann was my girlfriend. For the first time, I was certain of someone's relationship with me. This girl's face looked so much like hers it was uncanny. Like a big sister, maybe. "She has a wider mouth", I thought. Her body was bigger though.
"Who...?" I tried to talk to her, but I wasn't sure what to ask. There was too much to sort out anyway, and she seemed also to have a lot on her mind. The sound of my voice was also new. Deeper... no, higher. Different, for sure. I took a long breath. The swimsuit was too damn tight. Despite not wanting to undress in front of a stranger, I couldn't bear it any longer. I took the strips down my shoulders, freeing my new chest and keeping the swimsuit hanging around my torso. I was weirded out by the unfamiliar appendages, but also proud in a deep part of my brain.
Hogging them for a few seconds, I wondered what was between my legs, for some reason. As expected, it was the usual set of female genitalia, an equipment I should have been familiar with, having clear memories of possessing one. However, as my hand patted my crotch, I was struck by a feeling of vertigo. Something was supposed to be there. I was supposed to have a penis, I remembered having a penis. Again, those opposing memories.
I decided to concentrate on finding out the meaning of all this, rather than exploring my body further. Two sets of memories... What kind of phenomenon could cause that? And like that, the lightning that cleared the fog I was in since my waking illuminated my whole being: The Big Merge. The dream. The Merge happened and I was the result of it. I was two people.
Finally realizing that fact, everything made sense and it was so much easier to sort my memories in respective mental shelves. Names: Sean / Sheril; gender: Male / Female; age: 19 / 18... After a few minutes, I had a pretty clear idea of my two identities. As I was still in this tiring process, the girl interrupted me.
"Hey. Are you there? Are you okay?" She said in a low voice like she was imitating a man. She sounded rough but concerned.
I look back at her. It wasn't hard now to guess who she was. Who they were. My brother... my friend was now merged with my role model... my girlfriend. They had a fit body, a middle ground between Jason's brawny physique and Ann's slender silhouette. Their hair, while a bit longer, was similar in style to Jason's. The color though, was neither blonde nor brown, but something in between: a light auburn, almost reddish. Their face was a lot more similar to Ann's than Jason's. A bit squarer, maybe, but still extremely beautiful. Their chest seemed a bit smaller than Ann used to be, but I inferred it might just be because of the bigger frame.
They were still wearing Ann's bikini top and probably the bottom too under Jason's trunks.
A sad realization finally set in as I diverted my gaze. Ann... I was supposed to be with her, with my soulmate. My brother had taken her from me. And now I was stuck, stuck with... myself. I instinctively put a hand on my mouth, as if I expected to throw up. I felt grossed out by my Sheril half. A punny, stupid, and bratty little girl. A loud mouth incapable of self-reflection, that's who I was. In reality, Sean didn't have such a low esteem of Sheril, but the sensation of losing my loved one was angering me, which in turn activated my Sheril insecurity. My two identities were bringing out the worst of each other and a wave of self-hatred swept me away. I started sobbing loudly, making me hate even more my girly and immature side.
"Wow, hey! It's alright, it's alright." My brother/girlfriend said, surprised by my sudden reaction. She took me in her arms, enveloping me like a mother would do to her child. It felt good, as much as I didn't want to admit. Ann was still there, she was still there with me even if she looked a bit different. It calmed me to think that, and I quickly reciprocated the embrace, hugging her tight around her firm waist. I was definitely smaller now. I finished sniffing like that for a few minutes as she caressed my hair (which I noticed was still styled as pigtails).
I finally managed to get a hold of myself and sat back straight. "S-sorry about that. I guess it's hard dealing with those new emotions..."
"I get what you mean, sis. Don't sweat it." She replied with a signature Jason wide grin.
I recoiled in horror. "SIS?!" I screeched, louder than was my intention.
They gave me a quizzical look. "Well, yeah. I know I look a bit different now, but it's me, Jason. You still haven't figured it out?"
I frowned. "I know who you are in there. I just expected you to be Ann."
They (or maybe he) laughed. "Okay, you're still not fully getting it yet, Sheril. It's alright. I'm actually both me AND Ann. We merged."
I winced at the name. His little smug tone was a premiere for me. Or at least my Sean part. It was fairly common for Sheril though, and annoying as hell. I pinched my nose in frustration, in a typical Sean fashion. "I know who you are. Both of you." I said in a low and slow manner. "You are as much Ann as you are Jason, so why are you talking about her in the third person?"
He looked at me with a dumb expression. "I dunno. It just feels more natural. I feel more like Jason than Ann. What's the big deal, sis?"
My face was slowly decomposing. I stood up in disarray. "What do you mean by that? How can you be more one than the other? AND STOP CALLING ME SIS, I'M SEAN!"
It took me a few seconds to register the irony of my comment. And a few more to think about that. I wasn't more Sean than Sheril, not really. I remembered equally growing up as a boy and a girl, their lives, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. But something felt a bit wrong when I thought of myself as Sheril. My Sean personality was too strong maybe? Not really. Sheril was a lot more vocal, usually. No, the difference was a matter of Ego, of confidence, I realized. Sheril had a major lack of self-esteem, now reinforced by the image Sean's mind was reflecting of herself. And while I, Sean, wasn't particularly the most confident individual of all time, it never had been a big problem in my life either. Plus, reciprocally, Sheril's love was boosting my Ego big time, which was kinda sad. She just preferred to see herself as me rather than I preferred to see myself as her, and as long as I believed it like that, I could more or less function.
Jason lifted himself up. The new girl was towering me big time, my eyes ending up at the level of her breasts. Jason had always been taller than me, but not by much. I had been decently tall -much more than Ann at least- and even if their fusion had taken more of his height than her, it made me realize how small I had become. I was only a few inches taller than Sheril was, which didn't mean much.
"If you want me to call you Sean, it's fine with me, si- huh... man." He chuckled. "Sorry, it's a bit hard though, you look so much more... girly," He said and pointed to my bare chest.
I turned red from embarrassment. I had completely forgotten that part. I quickly ran to the lounge chairs to take my Sheril's towel from one of them, rolling it around my torso. My perky breasts kept it tucked neatly.
"Okay, let's start again," I said as I walked back to them. "Can you please concentrate on Ann? I understand it comes easier for you to act like Jason, but I need to talk with my girlfriend right now..."
They winced at that and looked away. "I... I don't think I can do that."
"I'll be Sheril if you want afterward!" I pleaded. "I just need to witness she's still here somehow... That you're still alive, Ann. Please."
I took a step towards them, and they took a step back. They were still avoiding eye contact. I let them think in silence for a few minutes. They were pacing around, looking at their hands.
Finally, they spoke: "She's in here, Sean. Don't worry about that..."
"Then talk to me! As Ann! I know it's possible, I'm in the same situation as you, remember?" Even if it wasn't natural to think of myself as Sheril, she was still me. I knew I could summon her personality if necessary, like standing on one leg rather than the other. But right now, I was too focused on my bond with the love of my life, a powerful feeling that Sheril had never felt until now.
"I just can't do that right now. I need to stay Jason."
"Give me at least an explanation!" Bits of Sheril's stubbornness were leaking into my mind.
They sighed. "She's not feeling right, okay? It would hurt too much..." Their voice sounded tighter and tighter. I could see it, she was struggling not to come out, shielding herself behind Jason's big personality. But Jason had probably never felt that either, he must have been lost to this strange new pain.
I very slowly took a step forward, as if I was trying not to scare a frightened animal. "Baby," I said in the calmest voice I could mutter. "I know I look very different right now, but it's me. I'm here, okay? We're still together-"
She pushed me away with her two giant arms. The strength and speed were enough to throw me away on several feet. I wouldn't have been able to stay standing if not for the wall behind me.
"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER!" she cried in a much more feminine voice than it had been. Tears started rolling from her eyes. "It's over, don't you get it? It was our only chance and we blew it. We were supposed to be together forever, it was our destiny, our dream and now it's gooone..."
She wailed like I had never heard her wail, and certainly not Jason. My eyes were feeling up again at the sight. I knew her feelings, and I wanted to curse the world too, but I was also so relieved to hear her back. Ann, my only true love, was still here at my side, behind it all.
I hugged her again, this time trying to comfort her. She was so tall it didn't feel right, but she took me in and bent down to put her wet face on my shoulder. I stood there, caressing her back and letting her take it all out.
After a moment, I led her to a lounging chair so we could sit next to one another. "Do you remember the last time you felt sad like that? I guess it was when Jumbo died. We did a Viking funeral..." I said in a weak voice.
She gave me a weak smile. "You made the tiny boat yourself. It was very sweet of you to take so much time for my stupid frog."
"Jumbo was not stupid, he was just special! And I couldn't let you flush him in the toilet." I snarled.
She chuckled, still sniffing. Taking a trip down memory lane wasn't without reasons. I wanted her to focus on herself, on us, and help her understand that the small girl in front of her was still her boyfriend. It seemed to work as intended because she looked me in the eyes with a sad smile. Her deep dark eyes, reddened by the tears, were still hers.
"If I look closely, I can still see you in there..." she said meekly. It made me realize I hadn't seen my face yet.
"I am. Still here. Still by your side." I answered.
She looked back at her feet, biting her lips. "Except you're my sister now..."
It fell on me like a brick, waking back my Sheril part. Even if Jason was hard to discern under this girl's traits, I knew it was really my brother I was looking at. I was in love with him, indirectly, and the idea was quite nauseating. I kept silent for a moment, wondering. Was Sean's love strong enough to make me do something so revulsing like incest? I just have to forget about Jason. He's not relevant anymore, I thought. As much as I knew how immoral it was, I wanted to hold on to this love. I wanted to forget myself in it.
I looked back at her, and with the most quiet voice, I uttered: "I don't... care."
Her eyes widened back at me in surprise. Apparently, she was going through the same fight. But I knew her. I knew our mutual feelings could win any challenges. Slowly, like she was about to touch a flame with her bare hands, she approached her face to mine. We were both red like the day of our first kiss. As I could feel her hot breath hitting my nostrils, I closed my eyes and ended the gap myself.
Our lips met with intensity. Her tongue was first to enter my mouth, taking the entire space. She wasn't kissing like we used to at all, but I didn't care: at this moment, I was like a maiden experiencing her first kiss ever. Our size difference made it natural for me to assume a new, more supporting role. We kissed passionately for an unknown amount of time, completely lost in bliss.
As we finally broke it, we knew our love was indestructible. It had survived the biggest challenge we had ever met, and we smiled at each other, truly happy.
"I would have missed that." She finally said. "If we had fused together I mean. We wouldn't be able to make out, I guess."
As we cuddled, my eyes met with her crotch. I gulped when I caught on the suspicious bulge it sported. "Huuh... D-do you have..." I started saying, not daring to finish my sentence.
"A dick? Yeah, I still have one. Or have one now, I guess. You don't?"
I shook my head, taken aback by their bluntness.
"Weird. I wonder what are the rules about that... Maybe I was just packing more than you." They said with a grin.
The fact Jason's personality reappeared while we were still cuddling made me wince. I broke the hug. "Of course talking about that would make you Jason again..."
They laughed. "Don't worry, I'm still Ann too. I think I'm slowly finding a balance between them both."
My curiosity for male genitals coming exclusively from Sheril, it was also canceled by the reminder it was Jason's pickle between their legs. I made a disgusted face when he tried to cuddle back.
"Oh, I see Sheril is here." He mocked.
I pulled out my tongue, either sarcastically or instinctively, I couldn't say. He guffawed and stood up, stretching their chiseled body.
"Maybe we should go inside now that we're feeling better. I'm curious to know more about the global situation."
I followed at their side as we walked back. "By the way, isn't it too quiet around here? You would expect chaos, people screaming... Are we the only ones merged?"
"Naaah, we all had the dream," they said with leisure. "It's a very calm residential neighborhood. The few old couples around must be lost sorting all their memories, but I'm sure it's a lot more chaotic downtown."
That made sense, but I still had lots of questions in my mind. What about people driving? Or in planes? It must have caused accidents all over. What about people with no opposite gender nearby?
"What about Mom and Dad?" I decided to ask.
"Which ones?"
"The ones we share, dummy," I answered back, very Sheril-like.
"I'm your boyfriend now, you shouldn't call me like that." They joked.
I winced at the insinuation. "Girlfriend. As Ann." I snarled.
"Sure, but I'm still the one with a cock here..." She answered, pinching my bubbly butt with one hand.
"Yeek!" I screamed with a jump and they laughed loudly. I slapped the hand with a mean gaze. The cocky attitude coming from Jason was very new in a flirt setting and I was scared to find out how this relationship was going to play out. Each time Jason's personality was acting out, my Sheril instincts were brought back too, which was slowly setting up a weird chasing game between us and the immoral aspect of our bond.
***
The Shower
We walked past the sliding doors inside the cool interior. Our house. I chuckled at the fact I was now officially living with my girlfriend. I guess we had two addresses now, but this house was a lot nicer than Sean's old one. My parents might not like it, though..., I wondered. Come to think of it, I should try and contact them as soon as possible.
"Well, first thing I wanna do is see my face," I said out loud.
"Oh yeah, same. I tried to see my reflection in the pool but I couldn't catch much."
A wide mirror was hanging in the hall near the stairs. I held my breath and I stood in front of it.
It was one thing to not recognize the body you're in, it was another level to see a new face in the mirror. And what a face. I was hella cute. Sheril's pretty face had blossomed under some of Sean's more mature traits. My eyes were still blue, but instead of big round balls, they had taken Sean's almond shape. The whole face was more vixen while keeping some of Sheril's original innocence. My hair was jet black had kept the pigtails, reminding me of some Asian cosplayers. I looked a lot closer to my actual age. Who would have thought that merging with a guy would have made me so feminine?
"Woow. I look a lot more like Ann than Jason, heh? No wonder you were expecting me to act like her at first." My partner said as they made all kinds of weird faces.
"Well, I certainly don't look like Sean," I added.
"You do in some ways. At least you don't look as much like Sheril as I do Ann. That's a relief."
"I bet..."
They looked at me through the mirror. "For Ann, the simple fact that Sean is inside is enough, but for Jason, I have to try and trick my mind into thinking you're just an unknown gorgeous girl who happened to share some similarity with my sister."
I blushed at the compliment. Being called gorgeous was raising some of Sheril's ego. I took off the ribbons from my hair, letting it flow on the back of my neck. "Does that help?" I asked.
"Thank god, yes." They sighed and bent down for a kiss.
I reciprocated, but more timidly, not able to shake the feeling I was kissing Jason this time. As we broke, I cleared my voice. "I really need a shower, my skin is still sticky from the solar cream..."
"Oh, okay." They said, sounding a bit disappointed.
I gave them a peck on the cheek as an apology. "I'll be back soon, I just need to freshen up."
I entered the spacious bathroom on the second floor. It was interesting to compare the quality of life of my two families. Sheril had never realized how good she had it before. Spoiled brat, I scowled myself.
I finally had the chance to put off my mixed swimwear. Looking at myself again in the mirror, unclad with my dark mane untied, a strong feeling of vanity and pride enveloped me. I gave a cocky smile at my reflection. I was fully female and had no explanation for that. My biggest wonder was my new perky breasts that I had estimated to be a C cup. Far from Sasha's utters, but still a very big improvement on my previous sizes. Where could they come from?
I took a deeper examination at my crotch. I could feel a mourning coming from Sean's loss of his manhood. As my Sheril part was more accustomed to the female anatomy, it was taking the lead in this investigation. I looked back at my reflection's gaze while running my fingers around my slit. How strange, I thought, to be aroused by my reflection. The taste for girls was new to me as Sheril, and it wasn't unpleasant. I bit my lips as I pushed a finger inside, it was already wet. My own muffled moan was raising the flow even more.
Not wanting to be caught by my brother, I turned on the shower, to better resume my exploration behind the sound of falling water. The wide shower was also equipped with a mirror on one side, so I could still peek at myself. Taking advantage of my Sheril mind under the wheel, I decided to partake in a little fantasy. I started imagining Sean going down on my new self.
"Sean... keep going..." It was a weird revelation for Sean, who was now also experimenting self-arousal, by his old male self. As cringed as he was deep inside of me, I for once felt even more pleasure. My love for him was drowning him, forcing him to watch in disarray.
"We are one now, Sean. You're inside me. I'm inside you... We're moan together forever."
I was slowly speeding up the pace, feeling a climax already climbing its way. "Sean! I love you, Sean! I'm closer to you than Ann would ever be!"
Here it was, my first orgasm in my new home. "You're mine! You're mine! You're miiiiine!" I screamed at my reflection, as the powerful wave of pleasure engulfed me.
Catching my breath, I chuckled: "Who's the brat now, huh?"
knock, knock, knock
"Sean? Is everything okay? I heard you scream."
The call of my other half's name was enough to flip me back. Shame quickly replaced my earlier demeanor. I felt like I had cheated Ann with myself.
Not hearing a response, she opened the unlocked door. Shit.
"I... knocked a toe in the corner!" I improvised weakly.
The sliding doors were filled with steam, so I couldn't see her. I only heard the sound of rubbing clothes. A few seconds later, the doors opened.
"I thought it would be quicker if we shared a shower," she said. "Or it might take longer if we knocked another toe."
She smiled mischievously. My eyes went instinctively to the odd member attached to her otherwise feminine body. Neither Sheril nor Sean could attest to its resemblance to Jason's old one, but it was certainly sizeable. Its length was not what made me stare longer than I should have: the lack of visible testicles was my first surprise. The skin around it was also making some kind of fold.
"Yeah I know, it doesn't look exactly like your classic male anatomy." They chuckled.
It seemed to work fine though, as the already half-erected penis rose slowly to a full stand. I became crimson and looked away, my stare certainly responsible for the change of elevation.
They closed the distance, gently lifting my chin with their fingers, and kissed me once more. Never had Ann been so assertive before. Jason's personality had completely changed our dynamic. I was now the submissive one. I didn't know what to think of it yet, still figuring out where this relationship was going. The hard hot rod poking at my belly made me flinch back.
"I-I don't know if I'm ready for that yet..." I said, a bit guilty for my earlier session.
"If not for the full act... would you mind helping me with that thing? You know... with your... mouth?" She muttered. The shyness at the request made it typically Ann. She always had a coy demeanor when she felt kinky, which was quite often.
"You want me to give you a blowjob?!" I gulped. For some reason, I had even more apprehension for oral than actual regular sex.
She went on the defensive: "Oh come on! I've done it all the time for you, what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that I've never done it, for once..." I answered.
"Not even Sheril?" She asked.
I shook my head. Sheril was a virgin, actually. I had a few boyfriends, but never went farther than kissing.
"Well, I won't force you, of course." She said reassuringly, clearly fighting against her male urge. "Let me take care of it myself."
I sighed. If I wanted to continue my relationship with Ann fully, I'd have to do it sooner or later. "No, it's okay. I'll try."
"You're sure? I don't want you to feel obliged..." She said with utmost seriousness.
I smile at her caution and nod. "I guess part of me is kinda curious."
"Don't tell me which part, please." She said, wincing a bit.
Right... I was about to commit incest. Jason was probably trying his best to forget I was also his sister. I crouched awkwardly, not wanting to hurt my knees on the tiling. The pulsing dick was a few inches from my face. Closing my eyes, I tried to make the mixing between my two personalities. Putting Sheril away while keeping her interest in the male appendage was difficult, but I was slowly coming to it. I'm a girl, a heterosexual girl who's about to give a blowjob to my lover, Ann…
I put my lips on the tip. The smell wasn't as potent as I thought, even enjoyable. Then I took a grip at the base of the shaft with one of my dainty hands, the other one holding her firm leg to keep balance.
"Oh boy..." said my partner, holding onto the wall with anticipation.
Slowly, I pushed the head to my mouth, parting my lips. As it went in, I realized the girth was a lot harder to fit in than I expected. I had to almost dislocate my jaw like I was trying to take a bite of a giant burger.
"T-try not to put your teeth on it..." complained Ann.
"Hmm mmHmm!" I replied.
"What?"
"I'm trying," I repeated after putting it out. "You're just too big."
She laughed, a bit embarrassed. "Never had that problem with you..."
I gave her a dark look. "Shut up if you want me to resume."
"Yes ma'am."
I put myself back in character. That time, I curled my lips around my teeth so as to limit their contact with the shaft. I then started giving it a back-and-forth motion. It wasn't a very practical experience, but looking up, I saw my partner looking at me in fascination. It was an odd angle, her face shielding me from the water pouring around, her wet short hair leaking thin flows on my head. Her chest was covering part of her chin and in her eyes shined a lust I never saw in her.
The blow was not very pleasurable in itself from my perspective, but her desire for me was enough to stir my own arousal. I felt happy to give, I felt sexy and I felt love. I started putting more sensuality in my work and kept eye contact. I broke the pace with licks and kisses in between strokes. Her only reaction was small grunts, enough to comfort me that I was doing something good.
Playing a lot on my feminine charms was somewhat dangerous as I was close to waking too much of Sheril's mind. I'm sucking my brother's cock! was the last thing I wanted to think about, but if I went too much on the other side, Sean would be noticing he had another guy's cock in his mouth. It was a true rope-dancer act, but as long as I kept my poise, the experience was outstanding. My hand wanted nothing more than play with my clit, but I couldn't risk it in my shaky stance.
The frustration sped up my back and forth, and without warning, her pulsing dick spurted hot semen into my mouth. Through pure motion reflex, I swallowed the bitter and slimy liquid, only to fall down and gag into the faucet. I spat what was left in my mouth, cleaning it with hot water, but what had been gulped stayed inside.
"Didn't you teach me to warn you when I was about to cum?" I snarled, the unpleasant taste still lingering in my mouth.
"S-sorry... I guess I was too focused on the feeling..." she answered not so apologetically.
I finally stood back up. Looking back in the mirror, I was slowly catching on to what I had just done. I sucked a dick. I sucked a dick as a girl and swallowed. My mind was fully back to Sean, which made me feel extremely ashamed as if a new level of my masculinity had been ripped from me. Is there still some left in me?
"God, that was... so intense. Even as Jason, I don't remember experiencing a head like that. Are you sure it was your first time?" They said, a bit too genuinely.
Well, now it's definitely gone... My face was already too red from the act to show any more of my shame. I gave my reflection a knowing smile. That being said, I'd also have loved a blow from that girl. Too bad she's me.
At last, I could have an actual wash.
"I don't know if any of my clothes will fit me," I said as we got out.
"Eventually we'll have to go shopping, but for now you can steal something from Mom's closet. I'm sure she won't mind." Jason answered as he played a bit with his breasts in the mirror. Yep, that's him in there right now. Probably all that male lusting summoning him back.
"Why do you say that?"
"I had a quick call from them while you were busy knocking your toe." He grinned.
I coughed to hide my embarrassment. I was relieved by the news. "Oh, they're alright? Who did they-"
"They merged together, as they wanted." He cut me, predicting my following question. "They're still at Auntie's house. She merged with one of her neighbor's sons, apparently. It's a bit of a mess out there, so they told me they won't be home tonight."
"What the plan for us, now?" I asked as I finished tying up a towel around my hair.
"Let's take the time to get news from our other families and friends for now. We'll decide what to do when we know more." They answered, pragmatically.
***
Phone Calls
As suggested by Jason, I looked into our mother, Elisa's closet. Her wardrobe was neither to any of my identities' tastes, but she fitted my new build fairly well. I was very sad at the fact none of my cutesy dresses would ever fit me now, at least half of me was. The other had not much to add in the matter of women's clothing except that Sheril's "cutesy clothes" were childish and it was past time for her to upgrade her style.
I skimmed out for something that wasn't screaming "old woman's outfit". The best I ended up finding was a yellow and blue floral dress that was SO old-fashioned that it was coming back to style. Her underwear options were a tad too small but worked fine for now. I added white tights to complete the look.
Walking back to the bathroom, I brushed my new silky hair and decided to style it in two low-braided pigtails, ending them with my precious ribbons. Maybe not the most mature hairstyle, but there was progress, and it just fitted the dress perfectly. Very Cottagecore. I'm so cute like this! I thought, smiling happily at my vintage look. I was ready to shoot an episode of Little House on the Prairie. Without thinking, I finished up by putting on some makeup: rosing my cheeks and enhancing my new eyes.
When some of my Sean's mind reappeared, I felt like I'd been bamboozled by myself. I'm doomed to be a girly girl now, am I? Well, I have to admit it does suit me.
As I went back downstairs, Jason/Ann was sitting on the couch, looking at their phone.
"That's what you're wearing, huh." I said not without contempt at their choice of outfit. They went for some of Jason's clothes, which were of course very loose on their new frame. The tank top they chose, which was probably the tightest Jason owned, was so wide it showed a big deal of their braless cleavage, while the elastic shorts, maintained to their waist by a makeshift belt out of some rope, were looking almost like a two-legged skirt.
They raised an eye to me at my comment. I proudly gave them a little swirl, posing. "Not too shabby, huh?"
After a few seconds of silence, they guffawed loudly. I made a pout to their reaction, hands on my hips.
"What."
"Oh nothing, nothing." they managed to catch their breath. "I guess you're back to Sheril, is all. I might have forgotten she was in there."
"Yeah, well, she's half of me, yes." I retorted "You know, I was hoping being with Ann would make you less of a jerk, Jason. Guess I was wrong."
"Oh come on, sis. Don't be upset. It's not a bad look, it's just really... you, I guess."
"Not more than your choice is really you, bro. You know you're not a guy anymore, huh? What's up with your outfit?" I interjected.
He shrugged. "Ann's slim jeans don't fit me anymore, as you might expect. I don't have much choice for now."
"Well, I hope it won't be your new style from now on..." I sulked as I sat in the armchair on the other side. I was too Sheril and he was too Jason to cuddle right now.
I reached for Sean's phone which had been sitting on the coffee table until now. There was a few missed calls from Mom's number. "Shit."
"What's up?" They asked.
"My mom. She's been trying to reach me. I should have done that sooner." I said, worried.
"You're right, I haven't tried to contact my other family either yet. Let's take care of that now." They looked for Ann's phone in her bag and went outside so we could each have some space.
I first tried to unlock my phone with my fingerprint, which of course didn't work. Thankfully, I still remembered my password. It took a pretty long time for the phone to pick up.
"Yes, who's this?" said a mysterious croaky voice. It didn't sound like my mother at all.
"Huh, Hi? I'm looking for Sandra. Sandra Wang?" I asked.
"Listen, girl. I'm having a hard time here, like everybody else, and I don't have much time. Can you start by introducing yourself?"
I was quite baffled by the unfamiliarity of the tone. Of course, I was expecting my parents to be merged, but the rude voice was completely unknown.
"I'm Sean, her son. Is my mother here? Is everything alright?" I started worrying.
It took them a few seconds to answer: "Oh, Sean! It's good to finally hear from you. Sorry, I didn't notice your name on the phone."
"Huh, Mom? Is that you?" I asked, still unsure.
"Well, yeah in part. That's my number, what did you expect?" She answered dryly. Her pitch, while still feminine, was very coarse, like a long-life smoker. It didn't make sense for a fusion of both my parents.
"Who are you with?" I asked the next logical question.
"Richard." I had no idea who that was. "Richard Dickinson? My coach from the swimming club. I guess I wasn't talking to you about it much, huh."
That was troubling, but it made sense. At this time of the day, my father might have still been at work.
"And what about Dad? Do you have news from him?"
"No." She said icily.
"Aren't you worried?" I asked, a bit surprised by the apparent indifference.
"Listen, kid. I have bigger fish to fry here. I tried to call the guy a few times already. I have a wife to take care of. The situation is enough of a mess as it is."
I was shocked by the tone. My mother had always been a polite and caring woman. Clearly, the other mind was leading at the moment.
"Can I actually talk to my mother, Richard?" I raised my voice.
I wasn't used to talking so boldly to one of my parents, but the tone they used on me since the beginning of the call was making it difficult for me to treat them as such. It seemed to be effective, as the silence following was telling.
"Ugh, alright. Sorry, Sean. I'm sure you know how it feels to share a mind with someone. It's easy to get lost. But I'm still here, sweetie." She said. The tone had changed drastically.
"Yeah, I understand," I answered, relieved.
"Did you merge with your girlfriend? Are you at her house?" She asked, a lot more concerned.
"No, I'm at the Sanders. I ended up with Jason's little sister..." I replied, a bit ashamed for some reason.
"Oh, I see. Sorry it didn't go like you wanted. At least you're in a nice home. Listen, it's probably better if you stay with them, at least for the time being. I have many things to get straight in Richard's life, and with your dad not answering my calls..."
"I'll try to call him. I'm sure he's alright." I said, trying to comfort her.
"I don't know much about the Sanders’ daughter, but she seemed to have a good effect on you, you sound more mature!" She teased. The irony made me chuckle with embarrassment. "Anyway, I really need to get going. I'll explain things to you later. Let's keep in touch, okay?"
"Sure, Mom. Good luck."
"I love you, son. No matter what, I'm still your mom."
I couldn't refrain my eyes from watering as I hung up. The reality of my family life being completely in shambles hit me like a rock. At the same time, I was relieved to hear she could still be herself. I took a few minutes to calm down. I could see Ann outside through the sliding doors, walking in a circle as she talked on the phone. What a fucking mess we're in…
I tried to call my dad, no dice. I tried to rationalize the fact he was probably still figuring things out. After all, it had taken me all this time to think about reaching out to them. But I couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened. At this hour, he could have been driving home when it hit him, pulling him in some kind of traffic accident... Did people have to touch each other for it to start? I didn't think about asking my mom how it happened to her, that would have been an obvious question…
I decided to search on the internet for information. Most news outlets were still bare of any news. I imagined most companies weren't in any state of running properly. The internet was still working at least, that was good. On social media, there were plenty of posts. Mostly it was people showing off their new appearance to the world: "Wow, I'm so freaking cute!", "My boyfriend and I merged. Look at the result, OMG I can't.", "So guys, smash or pass?", etc.
As I continued scrolling through the posts, I realized something interesting. The resulting appearances went from androgynous women to very feminine ones. There were no boys in sight, at least not apparent ones. Probably some of them had male genitalia (some seemed to confirm that), but no real masculine bodies anywhere.
Chewing this thought, I suddenly received an incoming call. I didn't know the number, but I answered anyway.
"Huh, hello?"
"H-hi. I'm trying to contact Sean?" the voice answered. It sounded very sultry and feminine.
"I'm Sean. Who is it?"
"Oh, thank god. I wasn't sure I remembered your number. It's me, dad." The woman said.
A wave of relief washed me. "Dad! I was worried. I tried to call you..."
"I'm so sorry, Sean! I lost my phone in the panic... It's a long story. Memories took some time to settle. Where are you? Are you alright? Did you merge with Ann?" His voice sounded quavering, he was visibly stressed out.
"I'm not with Ann no... I merged with Sheril. She's Jason's sister. We were at their house when it happened." I explained.
"Oh, okay! I guess you must be sad not to be with Ann, but that's still a good place to end up."
"What do you mean?" I asked, perplexed by his reaction.
"Well, the Sanders are quite the wealthy family. Now that you're their daughter, I guess it means you're inheriting it."
I was dumbfounded. He was right, sure, but the pragmatic calculation sounded very out of place in such circumstances. The Sheril in me couldn't help but find it offensive, like some kind of arranged marriage for money. Still, I let it slide, not wanting to start an argument.
"Sure, I guess. Who did you merge with, Dad? Mom tried to join you too, you know."
"Oh, huh. Just an unknown woman, I don't know." He said like he was trying to avoid the subject.
"You don't know? Wait, you don't have her memories?" I tried to clarify.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I meant I didn't know her before. I've seen her before, actually. She works at the company, but only from far away..." His speech was messy. I guessed it was his new "mindmate" personality altering his usual calmer demeanor.
"Okay. How did you two merge? Were you still in the office?" I asked, this time curious to know more about how it happened for people not in direct contact. A weird silence followed my question. "Dad?"
"Yes, I'm here, sorry. We were leaving the building at the same time. It happened in the parking lot. That's how I lost my phone and..." He started to explain.
My mind drifted away when I saw Ann walk inside. She passed the living room, gave me a quick glance with a stoic expression, and went upstairs. I could easily tell something was up.
"Anyway, Dad," I interrupted his incoherent rumbling." I need to go. You should call Mom as soon as possible. She was very worried about you."
"Oh, okay Sean. Actually, I have a lot to take care of here, myself. Can you text your mom for me? I'll call her soon, I promise but... it's complicated. Stay safe at the Saunders, I'm sure you'll be fine there for now." He wrapped up the conversation.
"Hm, sure. Keep me updated, okay? Bye, Dad." I terminated the call.
I couldn't help feeling spite at the way my parents could so quickly hand me over to another family. Was our bond so brittle? At least I knew I had a solid home here now. Mom and Dad would never get rid of me like that... The other ones, I mean.
I walked back upstairs and knocked on Jason's bedroom door. I entered to find Ann sitting on the bed, looking at her feet. "Is everything alright?" I asked with concern.
"I guess... Everybody's safe." She answered, still looking down.
I sat next to her. "What's up?"
She sighed. "It's Mia. She... she merged with Dad."
Mia was Ann's little sister. She was only 10, and Ann had always been very protective of her. I didn't get the full picture of what it meant right away.
"I can imagine being merged with a parent is not ideal..." I risked.
She looked at me with a serious gaze. "It's not just that, Sean. She's only 10 while Dad is 46." Her voice was heavy, trying to contain her sob, and failing. "Now they're apparently looking like a woman in her late twenties. It's so unfair, she skipped her whole youth!"
I took her on the shoulder, patting her back. I didn't know what to say to make her feel better. "H-how did she sound like? Sadden?"
"No, that's the worst part... My dad said he couldn't manage to let her out. He can't stop being in the lead. We... we think he has so much more life experience, he's completely overshadowing her, or something." She said out between her weeping.
As I let her tears soak my dress, I looked out the window. The sun was slowly approaching the horizon.
"You know how old we are right now?" I said after a while. She only sniffed in reply. "We're all really, what? 3 hours old, right now? 4, top."
She raised her head, looking at me with confused red eyes.
"It's only been a few hours since we woke up to our new lives. I know it's hard to believe with everything that happened, but that's the truth." I explained to her. "Don't you think it's a bit early to set things in stone? Your sister might take a longer time to come back to the surface than we did but don't give up on her so quickly. I bet if we put them in front of a My Little Pony episode, your dad won't stand a chance."
She chuckled a bit at my joke and dried her face with her tank top. "Thank you. You might be right actually."
"Of course I am! This all Merge-thing is fucking crazy. We don't know anything about how it works and we can't say how it'll play out tomorrow. I say let's wait a bit before drawing any conclusions, okay?" I reassured her.
She nodded, smiling faintly.
"You should probably go back to them tonight," I said, hiding my pain at the idea.
She, thankfully, shook her head. "It won't be necessary. Mom is with them, she merged with a random guy when she was grocery shopping. Apparently, he doesn't have much of a family of his own. She said it's probably safer not to go out until things settled in, anyway... What about your family?"
I recounted how my calls went.
"Well... you said it best: let's wait before drawing any conclusions. In any case, that settles the fact we shouldn't split. We have responsibilities here too, after all." She noted, before kissing me gently.
I was relieved to hear her say that. Not only was she also my brother, but Ann was above all my only anchor to my Sean life at this point.
***
Evening
"I'm tired of all those emotions. Since we woke up, it has been worry after worry." She said as she stood up. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
I hadn't noticed until now, but the mention of food was enough to give me stomach cramps. On that note, we went to the kitchen. I first tried calling pizzerias, but as expected: everything was closed. It made me wonder how society was going to organize itself now that the world population had been reduced by half. Some structures had already been thought of: we knew our government would soon distribute new identity cards displaying our two old selves. Most accommodations were still unclear though, as too little time separated us from the day of the Dream.
Thankfully the fridge was pretty much full, and Ann was an amazing cook. She surprised me with sautéed bell peppers, something she never did before because of my loathing for the vegetable. She knew from Jason's memories that Sheril, however, loved it. It was quite a weird experience to have half of my brain horrified by something I found so tasty. I ended up winning this fight against Sean and taught him all about the sweetness and crunchiness of bell peppers.
"You're such a great upgrade on my brother, Ann," I said between mouthfuls.
I laughed, their face indicating they didn't seem to know how to react to both a compliment and a jibe.
When the night finally came, we decided to go to bed early, as we were both feeling emotionally drained. Feeling awkward at the idea of sleeping together in either Sheril or Jason's beds, we settled on stealing the master bedroom, taking advantage of tonight's lack of parents.
Our nightly cuddles soon transformed into a make-out session. I blushed, feeling Ann's infamous new member hard against my soft leg. Looking into each others' eyes, we silently agreed to succumb to our curiosity. We both knew what it induced, and how wrong it would be to partake in it without the proper protection, but we both pretended to forget about it. After all, we were used to raw sex in our former bodies… She slowly took down my panties. My heart was pumping like crazy, and it didn't take long for my inside to produce the now-familiar wetness.
Ann was deep inside me. Completely absorbed into the female experience, I had managed to keep Sheril at bay thanks to her lack of sexual experience. Having a dick thrusting into our womb was as new for her as it was for me, and the mostly Ann face that was grunting and gazing into me right now was holding the balance in my favor. With so little of my female self to guide me though, the feeling of the receiving end was truly alien. The sheer discovery of my depth was blowing my mind. I couldn't help myself from moaning anymore, and showing such a feminine side to Ann was embarrassing me greatly. The shame itself also seemed to nourish some kind of twisted arousal. Did I always have a fetish like that? It didn't seem right.
"I'm inside you... Oh boy, I'm inside you..." Ann was whimpering between each push, apparently playing some newly discovered kink of her own. Ann who, before the merge, had always been so passive and shy during our sexual intercourses. But now, she was in the lead and I was wondering what was going through her head. She was living a similar shift in our dynamic after all… well the exact opposite really.
Her movement was increasing, and my moans were more and more audible.
In the middle of it all, Ann's lips let out a terrible truth: "Oh god! I'm really fucking my little sister..."
"What?! What did you... say??" My mind shattered at the statement.
My reaction didn't stop them. "I-I'm so sorry, Sheril. I'm sorry!"
Hearing my other name was flipping me back. I panicked. "Stop it! Stop saying that, you idiot!"
"Oh god! I'm doing it! I'm inside you, sis! We're having sex!" Like me earlier, the shame seemed only to fuel them more. He pushed with added vigor.
"Jason, no! Shut up! You're ruining it!" I whined, but it was too late. I was now fully myself again. Sean couldn't shield me from the truth anymore. I was having my first time, and despite his feminine traits, I could only see my brother's face above mine.
Despite my tremendous disgust, my body was not fighting it. It wanted more, and I was powerless to stop it.
"You're so sexy, Sheril! You're so cute! I can't stop myself!" He yelled, possessed by pure lust for his own sister. Since when did my brother have such awful thoughts? I wanted Ann back! I wanted to be Sean again! But despite my best efforts, I couldn't.
"I'm close, sis. Your freaky brother is gonna cum inside you!" He howled.
"Get out, you moron! At least don't cum inside me!" But instinctively, my legs and arms locked on him, betraying my reason. I moaned and cried at the same time, feeling my climax building up at the same time as his.
We reached it in unison.
"I love you, Sheril!" He screamed when the defilement spread inside of me. I was too absorbed in my own spike to register it, though. My mind was melting in pleasure. Sweet oblivion, take me. I wanted to stay in this state forever.
He collapsed on my side, spent. I stayed frozen in place as hot cum was dripping from my pussy. Slowly, I dug a little hole in the corner of my mind, refusing to face reality at this point.
"Ann? Are you there?" I asked quietly as I was forced into myself again.
"Yeah..." She answered in a whisper.
"What... was that?" I asked, truly more surprised than grossed out now.
"Sorry... I think that's my fault." She said. I didn't know what she meant.
"I mean Ann's fault. I think some of my personal kinks mixed into my Jason persona," she explained, visibly ashamed.
"What do you mean?" I said, intrigued.
"I never talked much about it with you but... I kinda have a fetish for sibling relationships. You know, from my private manga stash?" She looked at me with an awkward smile.
"So that's what those are, huh..." I said, finally solving that mystery. "Guess you don't have many secrets left now, do you?"
She only chortled disturbingly. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so. I needed to face the truth of our relationship sooner or later... I guess it was just sharper than I wished it to be..." I answered honestly.
She caressed my hand. "Sorry... again."
"Don't be, I know it's hard to control all of this... Fuck, we're really siblings now. This is going to be a challenge." I understood.
"The world is in such chaos right now. I'm sure our situation is far from being the weirdest one." She said.
"And what about... Mom and Dad?" I winced a bit as calling them like that was calling in my other half.
They gulped. "They must never find out, or we're truly fucked."
The Saunders were a pretty traditional family. Not that a lot of parents would accept their kids to fuck each other, anyway.
"It might spice things up, in a way. Doing it behind their back..." I said.
They raised an eyebrow in my direction. "Is someone warming up at this incestuous kink?"
"I wouldn't say that." I snarled. "I just need to play with this new hand of cards if I want to keep our relationship working."
"Good thinking... sis." They smirked.
"Ugh, that will take time to get used to, though..."
***
Epilogue
“Coming!” I shouted at the doorbell as I ran for the door, ecstatic.
The first year had been quite chaotic, but now that school had finally resumed, a semblance of normalcy had returned. The Great Merge Cabinet, also known as GMC, had managed to sort things out with more or less success, but it worked out in the end. For fusions like us who were just students, the protocol was actually quite simple: we all had to choose to resume one of our old curricula. Jason’s old prestigious college approval was only due to his basketball sponsorship, which was a bit flimsy to begin with, so it was logical for them to pursue Ann’s plans. As for me, Sheril had pretty good grades, so I had decided to go back to high school, this time determined to join them for the next year.
I opened the door to a delivery girl holding a package. Finally, it had arrived! I took the box to my room, eager to open it. Inside was a bunch of new clothes I had bought online. With people worldwide in dire need of outfits for their new shapes, finding something had been a trial at first. It took me the last two months to finally have this package. Before that, I had managed to gather a few clothes by trading my old one. Male outfits were harder to get rid of, but some resilient minds were still trying to clutch to their lost manhood. Others more crafty used discarded male clothes to fashion makeshift attires. I myself used some of Sean’s old t-shirts to make not-too-shabby tops. Really, trends were all over the place.
“Haha, there you are!” I said out loud as I found the dress I was looking for. Since none of Sheril’s old clothes were fitting me anymore, I had to give them all away. So I was glad I had found a similar one she had, only a few sizes bigger. I smiled at it with mischief.
I didn’t call myself Sean or Sheril anymore. With time, the frontier between our two old identities had blurred, and we all started to choose new names for ourselves. Ann and Jason had chosen the very creative name of Jane. It fitted them well, though. For my part, I had chosen a more distinctive one: Naomi. It was a name both Sean and Sheril liked a lot, and I cherished each time my two personalities would agree on something.
I didn’t wait long before putting on the light blue dress and modeling in front of my mirror. As Naomi, I was now used to more mature outfits that Sean found sexy on girls: hand-cut denim shorts, blazers, crop tops… urban streetwear styles, generally. But today I wasn’t dressing for Sean.
Since Sean’s mother found out that his dad had fused with his mistress, my other family had basically broken apart. I still saw them regularly, but separately, and I lived exclusively at the Saunders. Jane on the other hand had still a functioning family from their other half and was going back and forth between the two households. Between that and college, we were seeing each other only once every two weekends. It was hard, especially having to deal with our parent alone most of the time, but knowing it was just a matter of a year helped me pull through with it. They were coming home today, and I had missed them so much I wanted to treat them with something special…
Earlier in the day, I had gone to the stylist to dye my hair. As Naomi, I usually kept my hair loose or tied down, but today I was styling them in very familiar pigtails. I took a final look in the mirror. In front of me stood Sheril, wearing her favorite summer dress, her blonde hair tied in her signature style with her favorite ribbons. Thanks to some clever makeup, I had hidden most of Sean’s traits and enhanced hers. What betrayed me the most was my much more voluptuous curves, which I had no intention of hiding anyway.
“I’m home!” I heard a familiar voice call from downstairs. “Naomi? Are you home?”
“Upstairs!” I answered as I quickly climbed on my bed. Waiting for them to arrive, I lay on my stomach, propped on elbows, my feet swinging in the air and facing the doorway innocently.
“Hey babe-” Jane quickly stopped as she saw me. “S-Sheril!?”
I sat back, slowly pulling off a strip from my shoulder. “Hey, Jason. Mommy’s not home yet. Wanna play with your little sister?”
FIN
***
Prologue
One day, Humanity shared a common dream. Every person on Earth, as they slept, dreamt the same vision. In it, they could see themselves and others pulled toward someone of the other sex. As their two bodies collided, they were becoming one single being. One body of two minds. As people woke up, they could feel it: a deep knowledge that it wasn’t only a dream, but some kind of prophecy.
The pragmatics thought of it as Mother Nature fighting against human overpopulation. The poets preferred to think it was a restitution to our primal form where men and women were only the two halves of the same entities.
Sure, there were a few deniers, like there’s always some for Climate Change, but most people knew this day would soon come, the day of an event they soon started to call The Great Merge.
***
Sean
My name, at that time in that place, was Sean. In a few days, I was officially starting college there in my hometown, while my girlfriend Ann was moving away for her studies. I wasn’t particularly worried about it: our relationship had started as early as middle school and was so strong I knew it could even survive years and years of distance. But still, we wouldn’t be able to spend each day together like we did until now, so I wasn’t looking forward to it. To add to the injury, Ann was going to pursue a brilliant career in the medical field thanks to her perfect grades while my medium scores and not-so-wealthy family confined me to a local community college. I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous.
“Don’t worry, honey. It’s just a matter of time anyway. We’ll be one in no time, so we’ll enjoy my new university together soon enough!”
That’s what Ann was always telling me when I shared my mixed feelings towards our future. We were often seen as the perfect couple. I believed in her love for me as much as mine for her. So when the Dream occurred, it was only natural for us to conclude we would fuse with one another. Even if the idea of losing their identity was scary for everyone, Ann and I felt like it was the most romantic thing that could happen to us. There was excitement mixed in the fear. But what if the Great Merge happened while she was away? Would it still work? Would it make her merge with a random dude from her school? Nobody knew for sure, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance, that’s why I was making sure to be with her as much as I could since the Dream.
Enjoying our last moments of summer, we were spending the afternoon at my friend Jason’s place. Jason's family was quite wealthy and owned a big house with a pool, so it was often him inviting us over and during summer vacation, we almost spent more time there than in our own houses. I stared dreamily at Ann as she got out of the bathroom in her newly brought red bikini. “Wow…” I was the luckiest man on earth. She was wearing her wavy brown hair in a ponytail and her usual fair skin had taken a golden hue from all our time here. An angel. Not only was she the smartest girl I knew with her already mentioned unparalleled academic prowess, she was the most beautiful in the whole world. Sure, I don’t claim I was the most objective, but still. Those green eyes, that cute little nose, and that damn smile… An embarrassed smile that, at that moment, was asking me why I was still looking at her like the first day we met.
“I swear next time I’m going in a diving suit.” she joked.
“Pretty sure you’d still rock it anyway.” I replied.
I loved how humble she managed to stay despite her perfect hourglass figure. She always had this shyness when it came to our desires for one another. I knew she had a kinky side that she was always too embarrassed to show me, like those erotic comics she hid in her room, or the way she blushed when watching a sex scene in a movie. Her modesty was probably the only thing I could see as a default about her personality. She could be a bit passive during our intimacy, but really it was nit-picking. Because yes, having the brain and the looks wasn’t enough for her, she also had to be the most kind-hearted person, making her popular not only with the teachers but every student in our old school.
“Come on, love birds. there’s only a few hours of sun left already!” called out Jason.
He was a great friend. Very sporty, outgoing, and full of confidence. I wasn't especially lacking in that department myself –how could I with Ann at my side– but I've always been a lot more reserved. He had sandy blond hair and a radiant smile that felt very inviting, making him the target of lots of girls' attention.
"Carrie's not here?" I asked him.
"Nah, we split yesterday," he answered casually.
Nothing to be surprised about, it was bound to happen. Jason's adventures never lasted long, as he could be very frivolous. He liked girls but not much commitment, and they often felt insecure in their relationship with him because of his popularity. He never cheated on them, but never reassured them much either. That was the same story with his previous girlfriend.
"Aww, too bad. I really liked Carrie, she was sweet," said Ann who was holding my hand as we walked to the pool area.
A big sliding door was opening directly on the bluest pool, taking much of the space. On our right was a neatly mown lawn and on our left was a stone wall matching the pool’s tiles. At the far end was a big modern pergola shading the lounge chairs under it. There, a familiar silhouette greeted us: “Hey, guys!”
The squeaky voice belonged to Jason's little sister Sheril. The little goblin was always clinging to us like a tick. I cringed at the harsh thought. She wasn't THAT bad. Sheril was a sophomore in our old high school. My guess was that, like most girls from her grade, she saw Ann as a role model or something, and because of that, she spent as much time as she could with us. She was nice, but often tried to monopolize our attention, talking loudly and frequently interrupting us. At the beginning of the vacation, Jason had tried to get rid of her multiple times but quickly forfeited as he often did with her relentless stubbornness. Ann didn't seem to mind her as much as I did as she always seemed impossible to annoy. For that reason, I had to also give up, just trying to ignore her as much as I could.
"How are you today? Do you want to play a game of tag or something? Hey, Ann! Have you seen my new ribbons? I bought them yesterday with Mom. She says they match with my eyes, what do you think?" She started rumbling as she jumped out of the chair and skipped around like a pestering fly.
Despite soon starting her last year of high school, Sheril was quite short for her age, not very developed, and wore her blonde hair in characteristic long and curly pigtails. Because of that, she could almost fool people into thinking she was still a child. Her current swimsuit, a white one-piece with pink flowers, was not helping her case. Despite that, she was definitely cute in her own way. She had big and very light blue eyes. Her button nose and rosy cheeks were covered in freckles and her overall facial features were free of imperfections. She had great potential if she started acting and dressing like her age, but for now, it was difficult to see more in her than a pesky kid.
I gave Ann a knowing smile and let her tank Sheril's attention for the moment. She didn't seem to mind and patiently responded to her endless chatting. I dived into the water with Jason for a few laps.
"So... What's your plan for the Great Merge now?" I asked Jason as we chilled on the other side of the pool. It was an obvious question to ask after his breakup with Carrie.
"Dunno, man. Guess I have to find a new girl soon, heh?" He answered, clearly not too worried.
"I mean, I would if I were you. You don't want to merge with your sister, I presume." I smirked.
He splashed water on my face. "Ugh! Please, no. But we have time, right? I mean everyone says it will happen on New Year's Eve.”
It was a popular rumor. There was no way to know for sure, but since the dream happened a few months prior, people were starting to relax to the idea it wouldn't happen right away.
"Maybe, yeah. But you can't be too cautious about that. Plus it's not like you lack the choice of partner. Half the girls in school want to fuck you, man."
He chuckled. "You really think I'm some kind of sex god or something? If you were not already in your perfect little couple, I'd think you have a crush on me, bro."
It was my turn to splash water at him.
"No but seriously, it must be so cool to have no doubts. You're going to spend your life stuck with your soulmate... You're one lucky dude, man." He said with more seriousness than usual.
"Yeah, I guess I am..." I answered, looking at my reflection in the pool. I couldn't mutter the strength to admit I also had doubts. Sure, being the other half of your half, it seemed like destiny, I couldn't deny that. And even if most of my mind was happy with this perspective, another, deeper part was sad. Who would we be in love with once we'd be one single being?
My thoughts were cut short by the sound of Sheril jumping in the pool. She quickly joined us, with Ann more gracefully following behind her.
"Let's play Chicken Fight!" yelled Sheril, a bit too enthusiastically.
"Again?" complained Jason. I shared the feeling: we played Chicken Fight every time we went to their pool. Well, at least it was a good excuse to caress Ann's smooth legs...
"Yes, but let's switch this time! I want to go on Sean's back!" said his sister in her bratty tone.
It took me by surprise. "Huh? Why?"
"Being on Jason is boring. He's, like, the worst horse. I just want to try out, pleaaaase!" she begged.
I wasn't keen on the idea at all, for obvious reasons. I was ready to rebuke the idea when Ann intervened: "Come on, guys. Try to be good sports, it's only for a few rounds."
Of course. Ann, the voice of reason. How could I say no to those eyes? I sighed and accepted. Seeing Jason take Ann on his back raised in me a pinch of jealousy, but I knew it was unfounded since I had complete trust in both of them. I crouched in the shallow water to let Sheril put her scrawny legs around my shoulders. Lifting her was the easiest thing in the world, and that was when I realized how underbalanced our two teams were: generally, Jason's bulk made up for Sheril's weak arms, which could then compete with our more standard duo. Me and Sheril had no chance.
Jason seemed to have done the same math. He grinned at me with his dashing smile, and charged.
"You okay up there?" I asked Sheril when we rose back from the depth, disoriented.
"Uh-huh. Let's try again." She said, sounding less convincing than she probably wanted.
We brawled for a bit, trying to make the most of our only asset: swiftness. Sheril's light weight allowed me to move around as we spared and I could see Jason starting to tire faster than me. Sheril was laughing loudly, apparently enjoying being tossed in multiple directions. I had to admit that I was starting to have fun too as I saw a thin chance of a possible win.
That's when I saw it. I stopped in my tracks, trying to discern what I was witnessing.
Jason rushed to us when he saw me stop, and I had to stop him loudly: "WAIT!" I screamed. It seemed to work as attended. "W-what's going on with your hands?"
Jason's hands were holding firmly on Ann's thighs, but I couldn't seem to find any gaps between their skins. It looked like they were... fused. My heart sank at this thought. No, no, no, no.
Jason, noticing he couldn't move his hands off Ann, was slowly joining me in the realization. He jerked them violently. Instinctively, I tried to do the same, only to understand I was in the same predicament. My head was boiling with fear. Not now, not now, not now…
The girls took a few more seconds to notice, both screaming in horror. I joined sight with Ann. In the middle of her shock, I could see resignation and sadness starting to rise while her eyes were filling with tears. On my back, Sheril was thrusting and swinging like a mad girl, trying desperately to free herself from my hands that were slowly but surely disappearing into her legs. I tried to lift my head to her face, but it was now firmly glued to her crotch, locking my neck in place.
My eyes locked on Jason in front of me, whose hands had already entirely entered Ann. His head had started entering her abdomen. He looked at me with desperation. He said something to me. I couldn't hear anything behind the screams coming from the top, but I managed to read his lips: "I'm so sorry." After that, he walked towards the edge of the pool as his head completely disappeared inside Ann.
I stayed paralyzed for a few more seconds before my survival instinct kicked in. I tried walking too, but Sheril's hysterical tantrum made it impossible as we stumbled into the water more and more. My vision finally blackened. I fought a little more before I was unable to breathe, either because of water or Sheril's body, I couldn't say. My consciousness quickly-
***
Sheril
My name, at that moment in that place, was Sheril. I lived in the Sunny Hills, a calm suburb above the city, with my parents and my big brother Jason. In a few days, I was starting my last year of high school. It was cool in a way: seniors are the ones all the freshmen are looking up to, but who was I kidding? Nobody was looking up to me, figuratively and literally.
I was the scrawniest girl possible. Only Holly was worse in that category, but she had an illness or something, so she didn't count. I had no breasts to speak of, the flattest ass imaginable. Sure I wasn't ugly, but a cute face doesn't make up for the absence of a body.
My friend Sasha always told me I should wear sexier clothes, but she didn't know what she was talking about. She had tits for days, a bit too much even. What does revealing clothes do when you have nothing to reveal, really? Nothing, you just look stupid. I had to play with the cards in my hand, and my only card was cuteness. So I wore cutesy clothes. Not like my mom would have accepted anything more. If I listened to her, I'd go to school in a space suit. I preferred to be called a child than a nun, personally. At least I had a few guys looking at me. Not the right one, though.
Sean had been my big crush since I entered high school. Tall, half-Asian, jet-black hair hiding his deep black eyes... He was just my dream type, like right from a K-pop band. And it wasn't just his looks. He had that aura of mystery. That low and soothing voice. That shy side-smile that let you wonder what he was thinking about... and he was so romantic. The way he cared for his girlfriend was obvious and intense. Because, yes, Sean had a girlfriend. Not only did he have a girl, he had THE girl. Ann was, like, probably in the top 3 most popular girls in the whole school last year. She was so smart and beautiful, it was just unfair. And the worst part is that I couldn't hate the bitch for how nice she was. I was so jealous of her, it hurt. I couldn't help but compare myself all the time.
I was waiting on the lounging chairs, covered in solar cream. Last summer, I had ended up red as a beet, so I didn't want to risk it this time. I lifted a brace from my swimsuit and took a pick: almost no tan lines. I was just not made for summer. Sasha had invited me to join her at the mall, but I had told her I couldn't today. Because as usual, Sean was coming to the house.
“Ah, I hear them,” said Jason as he came out of the pool. “They prolly want to enjoy their last pool day in peace, Sheril, so don’t start pestering them like usual, huh?”
I stuck my tongue out. Gosh, Jason was the worst brother. He always treated me like I was 5 and I was so sick of it. That goof probably thought he was some sort of womanizer with how many girlfriends he had over the years. I knew the truth though: they broke up each time they realized how fucking dumb he was. His friendship with Sean was a mystery I never managed to crack, but I wasn’t complaining: at least my stupid brother was useful for one thing.
I rolled my eyes watching Jason walk back into the house. I pity the girl who’s going to merge with him…, I thought.
On the day of the Dream, I had first hoped I would merge with Ann so I could be with him. But I quickly understood it would only work with a guy. I of course imagined merging with him. It would be quite romantic in a way, but I realized it meant also killing all hopes of going out with him. But hearing them talk about it, I knew Sean and Ann wanted to merge together. It wouldn’t be so bad, actually: if they merged, they wouldn't be a couple anymore, it would be my chance! I just needed the right partner. I knew of a guy in school who had a crush on Ann (like half of them really). He wasn't too shabby so I told him about my plan. He seemed to be on board. Now I only needed to get closer to Sean before the merge, so he could see me as the next best thing!
At that moment, the door from the patio opened and Jason came out with his friends beside him. "Okay, Sheril, stay cool this time," I repeated to myself.
I beamed and greeted them as they arrived, showing them the new ribbons. Sadly, Sean didn't seem to care much and quickly went into the pool with Jason. Of course, I should have guessed ribbons were not the appropriate subject of conversation... stupid. Ann seemed a bit more interested though, and we talked a bit about our recent outfits. Ann has a great sense of fashion, sexy while keeping it modest enough. I wanted to master that, but I had hesitated to go too far in that direction. I didn't want people to see me as a tasteless copycat. Plus, it would hint a bit too much that I was trying to get Sean's intention by mimicking his girlfriend's style.
"Hum, Sheril?" she interrupted my train of thought. "How about we join the boys in the pool? I'm drying up with that sun."
"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" I said, hoping I wasn't bothering her. "Oh! We should go for a game of Chicken Fight! Do you think we can mix up the teams this time?"
I've been waiting to team up with Sean for once, but it was difficult breaking those two up. I hoped that, by asking Ann first, it wouldn't sound too desperate.
She took a second to answer. "Sure, why not? If the guys are okay."
After a bit more convincing, the guys accepted as well. Sweet! The idea of climbing on Sean's shoulders was already making my heart flutter. He lifted me with ease as I took the opportunity to caress his thick dark mane. What a treat! I was thankful to be in a pool at the time, as my face reddened like a tomato... I was soon put out of my daydreaming as the others shoved us into the water without warning. Jason was his usual brute, of course.
As I climbed back, Sean asked me if everything was alright. I felt like his personal little princess, it was magical! The second round went better. Sean was moving me around so much that I couldn't help myself laughing. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and yelled. "WAIT!"
I was surprised by the abruptness. "What's going on?" I asked, but Sean didn't react. Instead, he addressed Jason, asking him about his hands. I didn't understand, but I could feel my partner's body tensing underneath me. My brother started shaking around violently, and I finally saw it: his hands were stuck to Ann's legs. Not just stuck: fused, like tin on a circuit board. I screamed in horror and tried to get off Sean. No dice. "WHAT'S GOING ON!? WHAT'S GOING ON!?"
They couldn't answer me, too focused on their own thoughts and feelings. My mind was too alarmed to think straight, but as much as I tried to pull myself off his shoulder, I only felt like I was sinking deeper inside him. I finally understood as I saw my brother's face completely disappear inside Ann. The Merge, it was happening. I was merging with Sean! I didn't want to, I wasn't ready to die. I wasn't ready to become someone else. I cried and cried and pulled harder. In the end, Sean fell into the water. I couldn't break free. We were about to drown and I couldn't break free. My last sensation was his head moving inside my belly. How odd...
***
The Wake
Air pulling inside my lungs woke me in shock and pain. A mouth was on mine. I jerked away and coughed out a bunch of chlorine-filled water, the chemical smell stinking up my nose. My lungs were on fire, and it took me a few minutes of coughing to start breathing somewhat regularly again. Even more painful was my head. My brain felt like a throbbing core and my memories were in shambles. I couldn't think of anything before my wake without it burning my frontal lobe.
I focused on my environment. The sun was beating hard on my skin. The pool, yes. I know this place. I must have drowned. My chest felt compressed by a very tight fabric. A silhouette was shielding the beams from my eyes. I could only discern a vague shape. I should know them... my brother? I called the name that came to my mind: "J-jason? Is that... you?" my voice was weak in my biting throat.
The silhouette didn't respond, and got out of my sight, blinding me with the light. Jason... my brother? He's not, though. I don't have siblings... or do I? I decided to sit up to collect my thoughts. Keeping my eyes low to restore my sight, it was then that I saw my body for the first time. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, but I was certain without a doubt that it wasn't that. Something seemed wrong. I was bigger... or smaller? Definitely bigger in some areas, at least. I was wearing a loose swimming trunk over a constricting flowery one-piece. Both gears felt weird and familiar at the same time. What didn't feel familiar was the breasts on my chest. It was a lot bigger than what I was used to. It made sense since I wasn't used to anything at all... right?
My creamy white skin was sticky with solar protection. A reassuring fact since the sun was beating me for who knows how long. I crawled to the shady part of the patio, under the pergola. My mind was slowly but surely coming back to me. I was in my house. I was spending time with my friend and his sister, my girlfriend and my brother... and his friends. The number didn't seem right. Most of the common knowledge was still here, the hazy part was about my daily life. Too many incoherences.
As I sat back on my strangely ample bosom, on the darker side, I could see more clearly. Someone else was here, curled up against the decorative brick wall. They were holding their knees, staring into space. A girl, at first glance, though fairly muscular, with a boyish haircut. Her face... she looked like my girlfriend Ann. Ann... There was no doubt Ann was my girlfriend. For the first time, I was certain of someone's relationship with me. This girl's face looked so much like hers it was uncanny. Like a big sister, maybe. "She has a wider mouth", I thought. Her body was bigger though.
"Who...?" I tried to talk to her, but I wasn't sure what to ask. There was too much to sort out anyway, and she seemed also to have a lot on her mind. The sound of my voice was also new. Deeper... no, higher. Different, for sure. I took a long breath. The swimsuit was too damn tight. Despite not wanting to undress in front of a stranger, I couldn't bear it any longer. I took the strips down my shoulders, freeing my new chest and keeping the swimsuit hanging around my torso. I was weirded out by the unfamiliar appendages, but also proud in a deep part of my brain.
Hogging them for a few seconds, I wondered what was between my legs, for some reason. As expected, it was the usual set of female genitalia, an equipment I should have been familiar with, having clear memories of possessing one. However, as my hand patted my crotch, I was struck by a feeling of vertigo. Something was supposed to be there. I was supposed to have a penis, I remembered having a penis. Again, those opposing memories.
I decided to concentrate on finding out the meaning of all this, rather than exploring my body further. Two sets of memories... What kind of phenomenon could cause that? And like that, the lightning that cleared the fog I was in since my waking illuminated my whole being: The Big Merge. The dream. The Merge happened and I was the result of it. I was two people.
Finally realizing that fact, everything made sense and it was so much easier to sort my memories in respective mental shelves. Names: Sean / Sheril; gender: Male / Female; age: 19 / 18... After a few minutes, I had a pretty clear idea of my two identities. As I was still in this tiring process, the girl interrupted me.
"Hey. Are you there? Are you okay?" She said in a low voice like she was imitating a man. She sounded rough but concerned.
I look back at her. It wasn't hard now to guess who she was. Who they were. My brother... my friend was now merged with my role model... my girlfriend. They had a fit body, a middle ground between Jason's brawny physique and Ann's slender silhouette. Their hair, while a bit longer, was similar in style to Jason's. The color though, was neither blonde nor brown, but something in between: a light auburn, almost reddish. Their face was a lot more similar to Ann's than Jason's. A bit squarer, maybe, but still extremely beautiful. Their chest seemed a bit smaller than Ann used to be, but I inferred it might just be because of the bigger frame.
They were still wearing Ann's bikini top and probably the bottom too under Jason's trunks.
A sad realization finally set in as I diverted my gaze. Ann... I was supposed to be with her, with my soulmate. My brother had taken her from me. And now I was stuck, stuck with... myself. I instinctively put a hand on my mouth, as if I expected to throw up. I felt grossed out by my Sheril half. A punny, stupid, and bratty little girl. A loud mouth incapable of self-reflection, that's who I was. In reality, Sean didn't have such a low esteem of Sheril, but the sensation of losing my loved one was angering me, which in turn activated my Sheril insecurity. My two identities were bringing out the worst of each other and a wave of self-hatred swept me away. I started sobbing loudly, making me hate even more my girly and immature side.
"Wow, hey! It's alright, it's alright." My brother/girlfriend said, surprised by my sudden reaction. She took me in her arms, enveloping me like a mother would do to her child. It felt good, as much as I didn't want to admit. Ann was still there, she was still there with me even if she looked a bit different. It calmed me to think that, and I quickly reciprocated the embrace, hugging her tight around her firm waist. I was definitely smaller now. I finished sniffing like that for a few minutes as she caressed my hair (which I noticed was still styled as pigtails).
I finally managed to get a hold of myself and sat back straight. "S-sorry about that. I guess it's hard dealing with those new emotions..."
"I get what you mean, sis. Don't sweat it." She replied with a signature Jason wide grin.
I recoiled in horror. "SIS?!" I screeched, louder than was my intention.
They gave me a quizzical look. "Well, yeah. I know I look a bit different now, but it's me, Jason. You still haven't figured it out?"
I frowned. "I know who you are in there. I just expected you to be Ann."
They (or maybe he) laughed. "Okay, you're still not fully getting it yet, Sheril. It's alright. I'm actually both me AND Ann. We merged."
I winced at the name. His little smug tone was a premiere for me. Or at least my Sean part. It was fairly common for Sheril though, and annoying as hell. I pinched my nose in frustration, in a typical Sean fashion. "I know who you are. Both of you." I said in a low and slow manner. "You are as much Ann as you are Jason, so why are you talking about her in the third person?"
He looked at me with a dumb expression. "I dunno. It just feels more natural. I feel more like Jason than Ann. What's the big deal, sis?"
My face was slowly decomposing. I stood up in disarray. "What do you mean by that? How can you be more one than the other? AND STOP CALLING ME SIS, I'M SEAN!"
It took me a few seconds to register the irony of my comment. And a few more to think about that. I wasn't more Sean than Sheril, not really. I remembered equally growing up as a boy and a girl, their lives, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. But something felt a bit wrong when I thought of myself as Sheril. My Sean personality was too strong maybe? Not really. Sheril was a lot more vocal, usually. No, the difference was a matter of Ego, of confidence, I realized. Sheril had a major lack of self-esteem, now reinforced by the image Sean's mind was reflecting of herself. And while I, Sean, wasn't particularly the most confident individual of all time, it never had been a big problem in my life either. Plus, reciprocally, Sheril's love was boosting my Ego big time, which was kinda sad. She just preferred to see herself as me rather than I preferred to see myself as her, and as long as I believed it like that, I could more or less function.
Jason lifted himself up. The new girl was towering me big time, my eyes ending up at the level of her breasts. Jason had always been taller than me, but not by much. I had been decently tall -much more than Ann at least- and even if their fusion had taken more of his height than her, it made me realize how small I had become. I was only a few inches taller than Sheril was, which didn't mean much.
"If you want me to call you Sean, it's fine with me, si- huh... man." He chuckled. "Sorry, it's a bit hard though, you look so much more... girly," He said and pointed to my bare chest.
I turned red from embarrassment. I had completely forgotten that part. I quickly ran to the lounge chairs to take my Sheril's towel from one of them, rolling it around my torso. My perky breasts kept it tucked neatly.
"Okay, let's start again," I said as I walked back to them. "Can you please concentrate on Ann? I understand it comes easier for you to act like Jason, but I need to talk with my girlfriend right now..."
They winced at that and looked away. "I... I don't think I can do that."
"I'll be Sheril if you want afterward!" I pleaded. "I just need to witness she's still here somehow... That you're still alive, Ann. Please."
I took a step towards them, and they took a step back. They were still avoiding eye contact. I let them think in silence for a few minutes. They were pacing around, looking at their hands.
Finally, they spoke: "She's in here, Sean. Don't worry about that..."
"Then talk to me! As Ann! I know it's possible, I'm in the same situation as you, remember?" Even if it wasn't natural to think of myself as Sheril, she was still me. I knew I could summon her personality if necessary, like standing on one leg rather than the other. But right now, I was too focused on my bond with the love of my life, a powerful feeling that Sheril had never felt until now.
"I just can't do that right now. I need to stay Jason."
"Give me at least an explanation!" Bits of Sheril's stubbornness were leaking into my mind.
They sighed. "She's not feeling right, okay? It would hurt too much..." Their voice sounded tighter and tighter. I could see it, she was struggling not to come out, shielding herself behind Jason's big personality. But Jason had probably never felt that either, he must have been lost to this strange new pain.
I very slowly took a step forward, as if I was trying not to scare a frightened animal. "Baby," I said in the calmest voice I could mutter. "I know I look very different right now, but it's me. I'm here, okay? We're still together-"
She pushed me away with her two giant arms. The strength and speed were enough to throw me away on several feet. I wouldn't have been able to stay standing if not for the wall behind me.
"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER!" she cried in a much more feminine voice than it had been. Tears started rolling from her eyes. "It's over, don't you get it? It was our only chance and we blew it. We were supposed to be together forever, it was our destiny, our dream and now it's gooone..."
She wailed like I had never heard her wail, and certainly not Jason. My eyes were feeling up again at the sight. I knew her feelings, and I wanted to curse the world too, but I was also so relieved to hear her back. Ann, my only true love, was still here at my side, behind it all.
I hugged her again, this time trying to comfort her. She was so tall it didn't feel right, but she took me in and bent down to put her wet face on my shoulder. I stood there, caressing her back and letting her take it all out.
After a moment, I led her to a lounging chair so we could sit next to one another. "Do you remember the last time you felt sad like that? I guess it was when Jumbo died. We did a Viking funeral..." I said in a weak voice.
She gave me a weak smile. "You made the tiny boat yourself. It was very sweet of you to take so much time for my stupid frog."
"Jumbo was not stupid, he was just special! And I couldn't let you flush him in the toilet." I snarled.
She chuckled, still sniffing. Taking a trip down memory lane wasn't without reasons. I wanted her to focus on herself, on us, and help her understand that the small girl in front of her was still her boyfriend. It seemed to work as intended because she looked me in the eyes with a sad smile. Her deep dark eyes, reddened by the tears, were still hers.
"If I look closely, I can still see you in there..." she said meekly. It made me realize I hadn't seen my face yet.
"I am. Still here. Still by your side." I answered.
She looked back at her feet, biting her lips. "Except you're my sister now..."
It fell on me like a brick, waking back my Sheril part. Even if Jason was hard to discern under this girl's traits, I knew it was really my brother I was looking at. I was in love with him, indirectly, and the idea was quite nauseating. I kept silent for a moment, wondering. Was Sean's love strong enough to make me do something so revulsing like incest? I just have to forget about Jason. He's not relevant anymore, I thought. As much as I knew how immoral it was, I wanted to hold on to this love. I wanted to forget myself in it.
I looked back at her, and with the most quiet voice, I uttered: "I don't... care."
Her eyes widened back at me in surprise. Apparently, she was going through the same fight. But I knew her. I knew our mutual feelings could win any challenges. Slowly, like she was about to touch a flame with her bare hands, she approached her face to mine. We were both red like the day of our first kiss. As I could feel her hot breath hitting my nostrils, I closed my eyes and ended the gap myself.
Our lips met with intensity. Her tongue was first to enter my mouth, taking the entire space. She wasn't kissing like we used to at all, but I didn't care: at this moment, I was like a maiden experiencing her first kiss ever. Our size difference made it natural for me to assume a new, more supporting role. We kissed passionately for an unknown amount of time, completely lost in bliss.
As we finally broke it, we knew our love was indestructible. It had survived the biggest challenge we had ever met, and we smiled at each other, truly happy.
"I would have missed that." She finally said. "If we had fused together I mean. We wouldn't be able to make out, I guess."
As we cuddled, my eyes met with her crotch. I gulped when I caught on the suspicious bulge it sported. "Huuh... D-do you have..." I started saying, not daring to finish my sentence.
"A dick? Yeah, I still have one. Or have one now, I guess. You don't?"
I shook my head, taken aback by their bluntness.
"Weird. I wonder what are the rules about that... Maybe I was just packing more than you." They said with a grin.
The fact Jason's personality reappeared while we were still cuddling made me wince. I broke the hug. "Of course talking about that would make you Jason again..."
They laughed. "Don't worry, I'm still Ann too. I think I'm slowly finding a balance between them both."
My curiosity for male genitals coming exclusively from Sheril, it was also canceled by the reminder it was Jason's pickle between their legs. I made a disgusted face when he tried to cuddle back.
"Oh, I see Sheril is here." He mocked.
I pulled out my tongue, either sarcastically or instinctively, I couldn't say. He guffawed and stood up, stretching their chiseled body.
"Maybe we should go inside now that we're feeling better. I'm curious to know more about the global situation."
I followed at their side as we walked back. "By the way, isn't it too quiet around here? You would expect chaos, people screaming... Are we the only ones merged?"
"Naaah, we all had the dream," they said with leisure. "It's a very calm residential neighborhood. The few old couples around must be lost sorting all their memories, but I'm sure it's a lot more chaotic downtown."
That made sense, but I still had lots of questions in my mind. What about people driving? Or in planes? It must have caused accidents all over. What about people with no opposite gender nearby?
"What about Mom and Dad?" I decided to ask.
"Which ones?"
"The ones we share, dummy," I answered back, very Sheril-like.
"I'm your boyfriend now, you shouldn't call me like that." They joked.
I winced at the insinuation. "Girlfriend. As Ann." I snarled.
"Sure, but I'm still the one with a cock here..." She answered, pinching my bubbly butt with one hand.
"Yeek!" I screamed with a jump and they laughed loudly. I slapped the hand with a mean gaze. The cocky attitude coming from Jason was very new in a flirt setting and I was scared to find out how this relationship was going to play out. Each time Jason's personality was acting out, my Sheril instincts were brought back too, which was slowly setting up a weird chasing game between us and the immoral aspect of our bond.
***
The Shower
We walked past the sliding doors inside the cool interior. Our house. I chuckled at the fact I was now officially living with my girlfriend. I guess we had two addresses now, but this house was a lot nicer than Sean's old one. My parents might not like it, though..., I wondered. Come to think of it, I should try and contact them as soon as possible.
"Well, first thing I wanna do is see my face," I said out loud.
"Oh yeah, same. I tried to see my reflection in the pool but I couldn't catch much."
A wide mirror was hanging in the hall near the stairs. I held my breath and I stood in front of it.
It was one thing to not recognize the body you're in, it was another level to see a new face in the mirror. And what a face. I was hella cute. Sheril's pretty face had blossomed under some of Sean's more mature traits. My eyes were still blue, but instead of big round balls, they had taken Sean's almond shape. The whole face was more vixen while keeping some of Sheril's original innocence. My hair was jet black had kept the pigtails, reminding me of some Asian cosplayers. I looked a lot closer to my actual age. Who would have thought that merging with a guy would have made me so feminine?
"Woow. I look a lot more like Ann than Jason, heh? No wonder you were expecting me to act like her at first." My partner said as they made all kinds of weird faces.
"Well, I certainly don't look like Sean," I added.
"You do in some ways. At least you don't look as much like Sheril as I do Ann. That's a relief."
"I bet..."
They looked at me through the mirror. "For Ann, the simple fact that Sean is inside is enough, but for Jason, I have to try and trick my mind into thinking you're just an unknown gorgeous girl who happened to share some similarity with my sister."
I blushed at the compliment. Being called gorgeous was raising some of Sheril's ego. I took off the ribbons from my hair, letting it flow on the back of my neck. "Does that help?" I asked.
"Thank god, yes." They sighed and bent down for a kiss.
I reciprocated, but more timidly, not able to shake the feeling I was kissing Jason this time. As we broke, I cleared my voice. "I really need a shower, my skin is still sticky from the solar cream..."
"Oh, okay." They said, sounding a bit disappointed.
I gave them a peck on the cheek as an apology. "I'll be back soon, I just need to freshen up."
I entered the spacious bathroom on the second floor. It was interesting to compare the quality of life of my two families. Sheril had never realized how good she had it before. Spoiled brat, I scowled myself.
I finally had the chance to put off my mixed swimwear. Looking at myself again in the mirror, unclad with my dark mane untied, a strong feeling of vanity and pride enveloped me. I gave a cocky smile at my reflection. I was fully female and had no explanation for that. My biggest wonder was my new perky breasts that I had estimated to be a C cup. Far from Sasha's utters, but still a very big improvement on my previous sizes. Where could they come from?
I took a deeper examination at my crotch. I could feel a mourning coming from Sean's loss of his manhood. As my Sheril part was more accustomed to the female anatomy, it was taking the lead in this investigation. I looked back at my reflection's gaze while running my fingers around my slit. How strange, I thought, to be aroused by my reflection. The taste for girls was new to me as Sheril, and it wasn't unpleasant. I bit my lips as I pushed a finger inside, it was already wet. My own muffled moan was raising the flow even more.
Not wanting to be caught by my brother, I turned on the shower, to better resume my exploration behind the sound of falling water. The wide shower was also equipped with a mirror on one side, so I could still peek at myself. Taking advantage of my Sheril mind under the wheel, I decided to partake in a little fantasy. I started imagining Sean going down on my new self.
"Sean... keep going..." It was a weird revelation for Sean, who was now also experimenting self-arousal, by his old male self. As cringed as he was deep inside of me, I for once felt even more pleasure. My love for him was drowning him, forcing him to watch in disarray.
"We are one now, Sean. You're inside me. I'm inside you... We're moan together forever."
I was slowly speeding up the pace, feeling a climax already climbing its way. "Sean! I love you, Sean! I'm closer to you than Ann would ever be!"
Here it was, my first orgasm in my new home. "You're mine! You're mine! You're miiiiine!" I screamed at my reflection, as the powerful wave of pleasure engulfed me.
Catching my breath, I chuckled: "Who's the brat now, huh?"
knock, knock, knock
"Sean? Is everything okay? I heard you scream."
The call of my other half's name was enough to flip me back. Shame quickly replaced my earlier demeanor. I felt like I had cheated Ann with myself.
Not hearing a response, she opened the unlocked door. Shit.
"I... knocked a toe in the corner!" I improvised weakly.
The sliding doors were filled with steam, so I couldn't see her. I only heard the sound of rubbing clothes. A few seconds later, the doors opened.
"I thought it would be quicker if we shared a shower," she said. "Or it might take longer if we knocked another toe."
She smiled mischievously. My eyes went instinctively to the odd member attached to her otherwise feminine body. Neither Sheril nor Sean could attest to its resemblance to Jason's old one, but it was certainly sizeable. Its length was not what made me stare longer than I should have: the lack of visible testicles was my first surprise. The skin around it was also making some kind of fold.
"Yeah I know, it doesn't look exactly like your classic male anatomy." They chuckled.
It seemed to work fine though, as the already half-erected penis rose slowly to a full stand. I became crimson and looked away, my stare certainly responsible for the change of elevation.
They closed the distance, gently lifting my chin with their fingers, and kissed me once more. Never had Ann been so assertive before. Jason's personality had completely changed our dynamic. I was now the submissive one. I didn't know what to think of it yet, still figuring out where this relationship was going. The hard hot rod poking at my belly made me flinch back.
"I-I don't know if I'm ready for that yet..." I said, a bit guilty for my earlier session.
"If not for the full act... would you mind helping me with that thing? You know... with your... mouth?" She muttered. The shyness at the request made it typically Ann. She always had a coy demeanor when she felt kinky, which was quite often.
"You want me to give you a blowjob?!" I gulped. For some reason, I had even more apprehension for oral than actual regular sex.
She went on the defensive: "Oh come on! I've done it all the time for you, what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that I've never done it, for once..." I answered.
"Not even Sheril?" She asked.
I shook my head. Sheril was a virgin, actually. I had a few boyfriends, but never went farther than kissing.
"Well, I won't force you, of course." She said reassuringly, clearly fighting against her male urge. "Let me take care of it myself."
I sighed. If I wanted to continue my relationship with Ann fully, I'd have to do it sooner or later. "No, it's okay. I'll try."
"You're sure? I don't want you to feel obliged..." She said with utmost seriousness.
I smile at her caution and nod. "I guess part of me is kinda curious."
"Don't tell me which part, please." She said, wincing a bit.
Right... I was about to commit incest. Jason was probably trying his best to forget I was also his sister. I crouched awkwardly, not wanting to hurt my knees on the tiling. The pulsing dick was a few inches from my face. Closing my eyes, I tried to make the mixing between my two personalities. Putting Sheril away while keeping her interest in the male appendage was difficult, but I was slowly coming to it. I'm a girl, a heterosexual girl who's about to give a blowjob to my lover, Ann…
I put my lips on the tip. The smell wasn't as potent as I thought, even enjoyable. Then I took a grip at the base of the shaft with one of my dainty hands, the other one holding her firm leg to keep balance.
"Oh boy..." said my partner, holding onto the wall with anticipation.
Slowly, I pushed the head to my mouth, parting my lips. As it went in, I realized the girth was a lot harder to fit in than I expected. I had to almost dislocate my jaw like I was trying to take a bite of a giant burger.
"T-try not to put your teeth on it..." complained Ann.
"Hmm mmHmm!" I replied.
"What?"
"I'm trying," I repeated after putting it out. "You're just too big."
She laughed, a bit embarrassed. "Never had that problem with you..."
I gave her a dark look. "Shut up if you want me to resume."
"Yes ma'am."
I put myself back in character. That time, I curled my lips around my teeth so as to limit their contact with the shaft. I then started giving it a back-and-forth motion. It wasn't a very practical experience, but looking up, I saw my partner looking at me in fascination. It was an odd angle, her face shielding me from the water pouring around, her wet short hair leaking thin flows on my head. Her chest was covering part of her chin and in her eyes shined a lust I never saw in her.
The blow was not very pleasurable in itself from my perspective, but her desire for me was enough to stir my own arousal. I felt happy to give, I felt sexy and I felt love. I started putting more sensuality in my work and kept eye contact. I broke the pace with licks and kisses in between strokes. Her only reaction was small grunts, enough to comfort me that I was doing something good.
Playing a lot on my feminine charms was somewhat dangerous as I was close to waking too much of Sheril's mind. I'm sucking my brother's cock! was the last thing I wanted to think about, but if I went too much on the other side, Sean would be noticing he had another guy's cock in his mouth. It was a true rope-dancer act, but as long as I kept my poise, the experience was outstanding. My hand wanted nothing more than play with my clit, but I couldn't risk it in my shaky stance.
The frustration sped up my back and forth, and without warning, her pulsing dick spurted hot semen into my mouth. Through pure motion reflex, I swallowed the bitter and slimy liquid, only to fall down and gag into the faucet. I spat what was left in my mouth, cleaning it with hot water, but what had been gulped stayed inside.
"Didn't you teach me to warn you when I was about to cum?" I snarled, the unpleasant taste still lingering in my mouth.
"S-sorry... I guess I was too focused on the feeling..." she answered not so apologetically.
I finally stood back up. Looking back in the mirror, I was slowly catching on to what I had just done. I sucked a dick. I sucked a dick as a girl and swallowed. My mind was fully back to Sean, which made me feel extremely ashamed as if a new level of my masculinity had been ripped from me. Is there still some left in me?
"God, that was... so intense. Even as Jason, I don't remember experiencing a head like that. Are you sure it was your first time?" They said, a bit too genuinely.
Well, now it's definitely gone... My face was already too red from the act to show any more of my shame. I gave my reflection a knowing smile. That being said, I'd also have loved a blow from that girl. Too bad she's me.
At last, I could have an actual wash.
"I don't know if any of my clothes will fit me," I said as we got out.
"Eventually we'll have to go shopping, but for now you can steal something from Mom's closet. I'm sure she won't mind." Jason answered as he played a bit with his breasts in the mirror. Yep, that's him in there right now. Probably all that male lusting summoning him back.
"Why do you say that?"
"I had a quick call from them while you were busy knocking your toe." He grinned.
I coughed to hide my embarrassment. I was relieved by the news. "Oh, they're alright? Who did they-"
"They merged together, as they wanted." He cut me, predicting my following question. "They're still at Auntie's house. She merged with one of her neighbor's sons, apparently. It's a bit of a mess out there, so they told me they won't be home tonight."
"What the plan for us, now?" I asked as I finished tying up a towel around my hair.
"Let's take the time to get news from our other families and friends for now. We'll decide what to do when we know more." They answered, pragmatically.
***
Phone Calls
As suggested by Jason, I looked into our mother, Elisa's closet. Her wardrobe was neither to any of my identities' tastes, but she fitted my new build fairly well. I was very sad at the fact none of my cutesy dresses would ever fit me now, at least half of me was. The other had not much to add in the matter of women's clothing except that Sheril's "cutesy clothes" were childish and it was past time for her to upgrade her style.
I skimmed out for something that wasn't screaming "old woman's outfit". The best I ended up finding was a yellow and blue floral dress that was SO old-fashioned that it was coming back to style. Her underwear options were a tad too small but worked fine for now. I added white tights to complete the look.
Walking back to the bathroom, I brushed my new silky hair and decided to style it in two low-braided pigtails, ending them with my precious ribbons. Maybe not the most mature hairstyle, but there was progress, and it just fitted the dress perfectly. Very Cottagecore. I'm so cute like this! I thought, smiling happily at my vintage look. I was ready to shoot an episode of Little House on the Prairie. Without thinking, I finished up by putting on some makeup: rosing my cheeks and enhancing my new eyes.
When some of my Sean's mind reappeared, I felt like I'd been bamboozled by myself. I'm doomed to be a girly girl now, am I? Well, I have to admit it does suit me.
As I went back downstairs, Jason/Ann was sitting on the couch, looking at their phone.
"That's what you're wearing, huh." I said not without contempt at their choice of outfit. They went for some of Jason's clothes, which were of course very loose on their new frame. The tank top they chose, which was probably the tightest Jason owned, was so wide it showed a big deal of their braless cleavage, while the elastic shorts, maintained to their waist by a makeshift belt out of some rope, were looking almost like a two-legged skirt.
They raised an eye to me at my comment. I proudly gave them a little swirl, posing. "Not too shabby, huh?"
After a few seconds of silence, they guffawed loudly. I made a pout to their reaction, hands on my hips.
"What."
"Oh nothing, nothing." they managed to catch their breath. "I guess you're back to Sheril, is all. I might have forgotten she was in there."
"Yeah, well, she's half of me, yes." I retorted "You know, I was hoping being with Ann would make you less of a jerk, Jason. Guess I was wrong."
"Oh come on, sis. Don't be upset. It's not a bad look, it's just really... you, I guess."
"Not more than your choice is really you, bro. You know you're not a guy anymore, huh? What's up with your outfit?" I interjected.
He shrugged. "Ann's slim jeans don't fit me anymore, as you might expect. I don't have much choice for now."
"Well, I hope it won't be your new style from now on..." I sulked as I sat in the armchair on the other side. I was too Sheril and he was too Jason to cuddle right now.
I reached for Sean's phone which had been sitting on the coffee table until now. There was a few missed calls from Mom's number. "Shit."
"What's up?" They asked.
"My mom. She's been trying to reach me. I should have done that sooner." I said, worried.
"You're right, I haven't tried to contact my other family either yet. Let's take care of that now." They looked for Ann's phone in her bag and went outside so we could each have some space.
I first tried to unlock my phone with my fingerprint, which of course didn't work. Thankfully, I still remembered my password. It took a pretty long time for the phone to pick up.
"Yes, who's this?" said a mysterious croaky voice. It didn't sound like my mother at all.
"Huh, Hi? I'm looking for Sandra. Sandra Wang?" I asked.
"Listen, girl. I'm having a hard time here, like everybody else, and I don't have much time. Can you start by introducing yourself?"
I was quite baffled by the unfamiliarity of the tone. Of course, I was expecting my parents to be merged, but the rude voice was completely unknown.
"I'm Sean, her son. Is my mother here? Is everything alright?" I started worrying.
It took them a few seconds to answer: "Oh, Sean! It's good to finally hear from you. Sorry, I didn't notice your name on the phone."
"Huh, Mom? Is that you?" I asked, still unsure.
"Well, yeah in part. That's my number, what did you expect?" She answered dryly. Her pitch, while still feminine, was very coarse, like a long-life smoker. It didn't make sense for a fusion of both my parents.
"Who are you with?" I asked the next logical question.
"Richard." I had no idea who that was. "Richard Dickinson? My coach from the swimming club. I guess I wasn't talking to you about it much, huh."
That was troubling, but it made sense. At this time of the day, my father might have still been at work.
"And what about Dad? Do you have news from him?"
"No." She said icily.
"Aren't you worried?" I asked, a bit surprised by the apparent indifference.
"Listen, kid. I have bigger fish to fry here. I tried to call the guy a few times already. I have a wife to take care of. The situation is enough of a mess as it is."
I was shocked by the tone. My mother had always been a polite and caring woman. Clearly, the other mind was leading at the moment.
"Can I actually talk to my mother, Richard?" I raised my voice.
I wasn't used to talking so boldly to one of my parents, but the tone they used on me since the beginning of the call was making it difficult for me to treat them as such. It seemed to be effective, as the silence following was telling.
"Ugh, alright. Sorry, Sean. I'm sure you know how it feels to share a mind with someone. It's easy to get lost. But I'm still here, sweetie." She said. The tone had changed drastically.
"Yeah, I understand," I answered, relieved.
"Did you merge with your girlfriend? Are you at her house?" She asked, a lot more concerned.
"No, I'm at the Sanders. I ended up with Jason's little sister..." I replied, a bit ashamed for some reason.
"Oh, I see. Sorry it didn't go like you wanted. At least you're in a nice home. Listen, it's probably better if you stay with them, at least for the time being. I have many things to get straight in Richard's life, and with your dad not answering my calls..."
"I'll try to call him. I'm sure he's alright." I said, trying to comfort her.
"I don't know much about the Sanders’ daughter, but she seemed to have a good effect on you, you sound more mature!" She teased. The irony made me chuckle with embarrassment. "Anyway, I really need to get going. I'll explain things to you later. Let's keep in touch, okay?"
"Sure, Mom. Good luck."
"I love you, son. No matter what, I'm still your mom."
I couldn't refrain my eyes from watering as I hung up. The reality of my family life being completely in shambles hit me like a rock. At the same time, I was relieved to hear she could still be herself. I took a few minutes to calm down. I could see Ann outside through the sliding doors, walking in a circle as she talked on the phone. What a fucking mess we're in…
I tried to call my dad, no dice. I tried to rationalize the fact he was probably still figuring things out. After all, it had taken me all this time to think about reaching out to them. But I couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened. At this hour, he could have been driving home when it hit him, pulling him in some kind of traffic accident... Did people have to touch each other for it to start? I didn't think about asking my mom how it happened to her, that would have been an obvious question…
I decided to search on the internet for information. Most news outlets were still bare of any news. I imagined most companies weren't in any state of running properly. The internet was still working at least, that was good. On social media, there were plenty of posts. Mostly it was people showing off their new appearance to the world: "Wow, I'm so freaking cute!", "My boyfriend and I merged. Look at the result, OMG I can't.", "So guys, smash or pass?", etc.
As I continued scrolling through the posts, I realized something interesting. The resulting appearances went from androgynous women to very feminine ones. There were no boys in sight, at least not apparent ones. Probably some of them had male genitalia (some seemed to confirm that), but no real masculine bodies anywhere.
Chewing this thought, I suddenly received an incoming call. I didn't know the number, but I answered anyway.
"Huh, hello?"
"H-hi. I'm trying to contact Sean?" the voice answered. It sounded very sultry and feminine.
"I'm Sean. Who is it?"
"Oh, thank god. I wasn't sure I remembered your number. It's me, dad." The woman said.
A wave of relief washed me. "Dad! I was worried. I tried to call you..."
"I'm so sorry, Sean! I lost my phone in the panic... It's a long story. Memories took some time to settle. Where are you? Are you alright? Did you merge with Ann?" His voice sounded quavering, he was visibly stressed out.
"I'm not with Ann no... I merged with Sheril. She's Jason's sister. We were at their house when it happened." I explained.
"Oh, okay! I guess you must be sad not to be with Ann, but that's still a good place to end up."
"What do you mean?" I asked, perplexed by his reaction.
"Well, the Sanders are quite the wealthy family. Now that you're their daughter, I guess it means you're inheriting it."
I was dumbfounded. He was right, sure, but the pragmatic calculation sounded very out of place in such circumstances. The Sheril in me couldn't help but find it offensive, like some kind of arranged marriage for money. Still, I let it slide, not wanting to start an argument.
"Sure, I guess. Who did you merge with, Dad? Mom tried to join you too, you know."
"Oh, huh. Just an unknown woman, I don't know." He said like he was trying to avoid the subject.
"You don't know? Wait, you don't have her memories?" I tried to clarify.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I meant I didn't know her before. I've seen her before, actually. She works at the company, but only from far away..." His speech was messy. I guessed it was his new "mindmate" personality altering his usual calmer demeanor.
"Okay. How did you two merge? Were you still in the office?" I asked, this time curious to know more about how it happened for people not in direct contact. A weird silence followed my question. "Dad?"
"Yes, I'm here, sorry. We were leaving the building at the same time. It happened in the parking lot. That's how I lost my phone and..." He started to explain.
My mind drifted away when I saw Ann walk inside. She passed the living room, gave me a quick glance with a stoic expression, and went upstairs. I could easily tell something was up.
"Anyway, Dad," I interrupted his incoherent rumbling." I need to go. You should call Mom as soon as possible. She was very worried about you."
"Oh, okay Sean. Actually, I have a lot to take care of here, myself. Can you text your mom for me? I'll call her soon, I promise but... it's complicated. Stay safe at the Saunders, I'm sure you'll be fine there for now." He wrapped up the conversation.
"Hm, sure. Keep me updated, okay? Bye, Dad." I terminated the call.
I couldn't help feeling spite at the way my parents could so quickly hand me over to another family. Was our bond so brittle? At least I knew I had a solid home here now. Mom and Dad would never get rid of me like that... The other ones, I mean.
I walked back upstairs and knocked on Jason's bedroom door. I entered to find Ann sitting on the bed, looking at her feet. "Is everything alright?" I asked with concern.
"I guess... Everybody's safe." She answered, still looking down.
I sat next to her. "What's up?"
She sighed. "It's Mia. She... she merged with Dad."
Mia was Ann's little sister. She was only 10, and Ann had always been very protective of her. I didn't get the full picture of what it meant right away.
"I can imagine being merged with a parent is not ideal..." I risked.
She looked at me with a serious gaze. "It's not just that, Sean. She's only 10 while Dad is 46." Her voice was heavy, trying to contain her sob, and failing. "Now they're apparently looking like a woman in her late twenties. It's so unfair, she skipped her whole youth!"
I took her on the shoulder, patting her back. I didn't know what to say to make her feel better. "H-how did she sound like? Sadden?"
"No, that's the worst part... My dad said he couldn't manage to let her out. He can't stop being in the lead. We... we think he has so much more life experience, he's completely overshadowing her, or something." She said out between her weeping.
As I let her tears soak my dress, I looked out the window. The sun was slowly approaching the horizon.
"You know how old we are right now?" I said after a while. She only sniffed in reply. "We're all really, what? 3 hours old, right now? 4, top."
She raised her head, looking at me with confused red eyes.
"It's only been a few hours since we woke up to our new lives. I know it's hard to believe with everything that happened, but that's the truth." I explained to her. "Don't you think it's a bit early to set things in stone? Your sister might take a longer time to come back to the surface than we did but don't give up on her so quickly. I bet if we put them in front of a My Little Pony episode, your dad won't stand a chance."
She chuckled a bit at my joke and dried her face with her tank top. "Thank you. You might be right actually."
"Of course I am! This all Merge-thing is fucking crazy. We don't know anything about how it works and we can't say how it'll play out tomorrow. I say let's wait a bit before drawing any conclusions, okay?" I reassured her.
She nodded, smiling faintly.
"You should probably go back to them tonight," I said, hiding my pain at the idea.
She, thankfully, shook her head. "It won't be necessary. Mom is with them, she merged with a random guy when she was grocery shopping. Apparently, he doesn't have much of a family of his own. She said it's probably safer not to go out until things settled in, anyway... What about your family?"
I recounted how my calls went.
"Well... you said it best: let's wait before drawing any conclusions. In any case, that settles the fact we shouldn't split. We have responsibilities here too, after all." She noted, before kissing me gently.
I was relieved to hear her say that. Not only was she also my brother, but Ann was above all my only anchor to my Sean life at this point.
***
Evening
"I'm tired of all those emotions. Since we woke up, it has been worry after worry." She said as she stood up. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
I hadn't noticed until now, but the mention of food was enough to give me stomach cramps. On that note, we went to the kitchen. I first tried calling pizzerias, but as expected: everything was closed. It made me wonder how society was going to organize itself now that the world population had been reduced by half. Some structures had already been thought of: we knew our government would soon distribute new identity cards displaying our two old selves. Most accommodations were still unclear though, as too little time separated us from the day of the Dream.
Thankfully the fridge was pretty much full, and Ann was an amazing cook. She surprised me with sautéed bell peppers, something she never did before because of my loathing for the vegetable. She knew from Jason's memories that Sheril, however, loved it. It was quite a weird experience to have half of my brain horrified by something I found so tasty. I ended up winning this fight against Sean and taught him all about the sweetness and crunchiness of bell peppers.
"You're such a great upgrade on my brother, Ann," I said between mouthfuls.
I laughed, their face indicating they didn't seem to know how to react to both a compliment and a jibe.
When the night finally came, we decided to go to bed early, as we were both feeling emotionally drained. Feeling awkward at the idea of sleeping together in either Sheril or Jason's beds, we settled on stealing the master bedroom, taking advantage of tonight's lack of parents.
Our nightly cuddles soon transformed into a make-out session. I blushed, feeling Ann's infamous new member hard against my soft leg. Looking into each others' eyes, we silently agreed to succumb to our curiosity. We both knew what it induced, and how wrong it would be to partake in it without the proper protection, but we both pretended to forget about it. After all, we were used to raw sex in our former bodies… She slowly took down my panties. My heart was pumping like crazy, and it didn't take long for my inside to produce the now-familiar wetness.
Ann was deep inside me. Completely absorbed into the female experience, I had managed to keep Sheril at bay thanks to her lack of sexual experience. Having a dick thrusting into our womb was as new for her as it was for me, and the mostly Ann face that was grunting and gazing into me right now was holding the balance in my favor. With so little of my female self to guide me though, the feeling of the receiving end was truly alien. The sheer discovery of my depth was blowing my mind. I couldn't help myself from moaning anymore, and showing such a feminine side to Ann was embarrassing me greatly. The shame itself also seemed to nourish some kind of twisted arousal. Did I always have a fetish like that? It didn't seem right.
"I'm inside you... Oh boy, I'm inside you..." Ann was whimpering between each push, apparently playing some newly discovered kink of her own. Ann who, before the merge, had always been so passive and shy during our sexual intercourses. But now, she was in the lead and I was wondering what was going through her head. She was living a similar shift in our dynamic after all… well the exact opposite really.
Her movement was increasing, and my moans were more and more audible.
In the middle of it all, Ann's lips let out a terrible truth: "Oh god! I'm really fucking my little sister..."
"What?! What did you... say??" My mind shattered at the statement.
My reaction didn't stop them. "I-I'm so sorry, Sheril. I'm sorry!"
Hearing my other name was flipping me back. I panicked. "Stop it! Stop saying that, you idiot!"
"Oh god! I'm doing it! I'm inside you, sis! We're having sex!" Like me earlier, the shame seemed only to fuel them more. He pushed with added vigor.
"Jason, no! Shut up! You're ruining it!" I whined, but it was too late. I was now fully myself again. Sean couldn't shield me from the truth anymore. I was having my first time, and despite his feminine traits, I could only see my brother's face above mine.
Despite my tremendous disgust, my body was not fighting it. It wanted more, and I was powerless to stop it.
"You're so sexy, Sheril! You're so cute! I can't stop myself!" He yelled, possessed by pure lust for his own sister. Since when did my brother have such awful thoughts? I wanted Ann back! I wanted to be Sean again! But despite my best efforts, I couldn't.
"I'm close, sis. Your freaky brother is gonna cum inside you!" He howled.
"Get out, you moron! At least don't cum inside me!" But instinctively, my legs and arms locked on him, betraying my reason. I moaned and cried at the same time, feeling my climax building up at the same time as his.
We reached it in unison.
"I love you, Sheril!" He screamed when the defilement spread inside of me. I was too absorbed in my own spike to register it, though. My mind was melting in pleasure. Sweet oblivion, take me. I wanted to stay in this state forever.
He collapsed on my side, spent. I stayed frozen in place as hot cum was dripping from my pussy. Slowly, I dug a little hole in the corner of my mind, refusing to face reality at this point.
"Ann? Are you there?" I asked quietly as I was forced into myself again.
"Yeah..." She answered in a whisper.
"What... was that?" I asked, truly more surprised than grossed out now.
"Sorry... I think that's my fault." She said. I didn't know what she meant.
"I mean Ann's fault. I think some of my personal kinks mixed into my Jason persona," she explained, visibly ashamed.
"What do you mean?" I said, intrigued.
"I never talked much about it with you but... I kinda have a fetish for sibling relationships. You know, from my private manga stash?" She looked at me with an awkward smile.
"So that's what those are, huh..." I said, finally solving that mystery. "Guess you don't have many secrets left now, do you?"
She only chortled disturbingly. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so. I needed to face the truth of our relationship sooner or later... I guess it was just sharper than I wished it to be..." I answered honestly.
She caressed my hand. "Sorry... again."
"Don't be, I know it's hard to control all of this... Fuck, we're really siblings now. This is going to be a challenge." I understood.
"The world is in such chaos right now. I'm sure our situation is far from being the weirdest one." She said.
"And what about... Mom and Dad?" I winced a bit as calling them like that was calling in my other half.
They gulped. "They must never find out, or we're truly fucked."
The Saunders were a pretty traditional family. Not that a lot of parents would accept their kids to fuck each other, anyway.
"It might spice things up, in a way. Doing it behind their back..." I said.
They raised an eyebrow in my direction. "Is someone warming up at this incestuous kink?"
"I wouldn't say that." I snarled. "I just need to play with this new hand of cards if I want to keep our relationship working."
"Good thinking... sis." They smirked.
"Ugh, that will take time to get used to, though..."
***
Epilogue
“Coming!” I shouted at the doorbell as I ran for the door, ecstatic.
The first year had been quite chaotic, but now that school had finally resumed, a semblance of normalcy had returned. The Great Merge Cabinet, also known as GMC, had managed to sort things out with more or less success, but it worked out in the end. For fusions like us who were just students, the protocol was actually quite simple: we all had to choose to resume one of our old curricula. Jason’s old prestigious college approval was only due to his basketball sponsorship, which was a bit flimsy to begin with, so it was logical for them to pursue Ann’s plans. As for me, Sheril had pretty good grades, so I had decided to go back to high school, this time determined to join them for the next year.
I opened the door to a delivery girl holding a package. Finally, it had arrived! I took the box to my room, eager to open it. Inside was a bunch of new clothes I had bought online. With people worldwide in dire need of outfits for their new shapes, finding something had been a trial at first. It took me the last two months to finally have this package. Before that, I had managed to gather a few clothes by trading my old one. Male outfits were harder to get rid of, but some resilient minds were still trying to clutch to their lost manhood. Others more crafty used discarded male clothes to fashion makeshift attires. I myself used some of Sean’s old t-shirts to make not-too-shabby tops. Really, trends were all over the place.
“Haha, there you are!” I said out loud as I found the dress I was looking for. Since none of Sheril’s old clothes were fitting me anymore, I had to give them all away. So I was glad I had found a similar one she had, only a few sizes bigger. I smiled at it with mischief.
I didn’t call myself Sean or Sheril anymore. With time, the frontier between our two old identities had blurred, and we all started to choose new names for ourselves. Ann and Jason had chosen the very creative name of Jane. It fitted them well, though. For my part, I had chosen a more distinctive one: Naomi. It was a name both Sean and Sheril liked a lot, and I cherished each time my two personalities would agree on something.
I didn’t wait long before putting on the light blue dress and modeling in front of my mirror. As Naomi, I was now used to more mature outfits that Sean found sexy on girls: hand-cut denim shorts, blazers, crop tops… urban streetwear styles, generally. But today I wasn’t dressing for Sean.
Since Sean’s mother found out that his dad had fused with his mistress, my other family had basically broken apart. I still saw them regularly, but separately, and I lived exclusively at the Saunders. Jane on the other hand had still a functioning family from their other half and was going back and forth between the two households. Between that and college, we were seeing each other only once every two weekends. It was hard, especially having to deal with our parent alone most of the time, but knowing it was just a matter of a year helped me pull through with it. They were coming home today, and I had missed them so much I wanted to treat them with something special…
Earlier in the day, I had gone to the stylist to dye my hair. As Naomi, I usually kept my hair loose or tied down, but today I was styling them in very familiar pigtails. I took a final look in the mirror. In front of me stood Sheril, wearing her favorite summer dress, her blonde hair tied in her signature style with her favorite ribbons. Thanks to some clever makeup, I had hidden most of Sean’s traits and enhanced hers. What betrayed me the most was my much more voluptuous curves, which I had no intention of hiding anyway.
“I’m home!” I heard a familiar voice call from downstairs. “Naomi? Are you home?”
“Upstairs!” I answered as I quickly climbed on my bed. Waiting for them to arrive, I lay on my stomach, propped on elbows, my feet swinging in the air and facing the doorway innocently.
“Hey babe-” Jane quickly stopped as she saw me. “S-Sheril!?”
I sat back, slowly pulling off a strip from my shoulder. “Hey, Jason. Mommy’s not home yet. Wanna play with your little sister?”
FIN
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A lowly member of a SWAT team ends up caring for a former sex slave.
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
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In a distant future, women are trained to be sex slaves and bought by wealthy men through Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. Follow the tale of Rinata, and her first experience with her husband, the man that paid for her and left her clear rules for his expectations.
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
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I thought that having my body possessed, my life stolen and my evenings spent tangled in a carnal carousel of degenerate sex was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I was wrong.
It had been three months since I had felt the presence slither out of my mind. Three months since I had been trapped as a helpless passenger in my own body, watching it gleefully debase itself in ways I had never dared imagine.
There had been no warning: One moment I had been waiting in line to audition for some minor speaking role, when a sudden shiver ran through me. The person sitting next to me had asked if I was okay, and I’d tried to make a joke about how nervous I was. Instead, my body silently stood up and began to walk briskly towards the exit.
I had tried to cry out. I tried to stop myself. I tried to trip myself up, swivel my eyes or even blink in a way that might signal to someone that something was terribly wrong, but I completely lost control of my own faculties. Some outside force had seized control of my body and walked it smartly into the elevator, taking us down to the lobby, out the studio doors and into the city’s seedy underbelly.
Well, perhaps not exactly. As my body began to pilot itself towards what I recognised as the red light district, I felt myself almost blacking out in panic - the thought of being trapped as my body handed out back-alley blowjobs filling me with a sense of sickness beyond simple nausea.
To my bitter relief, I watched myself sashay into the most salubrious venue in the city: More a luxury hotel than a whorehouse, but everyone knew that the turndown service included some very intimate extras.
I felt my face flex into a charming smile to the bouncer and saw his look of amused recognition. I’d never seen the brute in my life, but I realised with horror that I was just the latest victim of whatever sick perversion was taking place.
It is a terrible thing to feel your lips and tongue move of their own accord, speaking words not your own in a language you don’t even understand. Some cryptic collection of syllables whispered to the concierge that I could not have hoped to remember even the next day, let alone now.
I - my body, and whatever was controlling it - was given access to the service lift, disembarking into a hall that looked like a modernised Mount Olympus: Laden tables, bubbling fountains, crystalline pools, cushioned lounges and of course, an entourage of gorgeous men and women in various states of undress.
They did not seem gorgeous when I first laid eyes on them. In my state of horror and revulsion, I saw them only as whores and deviants; accomplices to the crime being committed against me. Now I remember their lithe physiques and alluring expressions with what I can only think of as a desperate, carnal thirst.
This is the curse that has scarred me since my release. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been freed from whatever monster had stolen a year of my life; the memory of the pleasures it enjoyed with my flesh remains, and I wake up at night feeling terribly cold and alone.
They had welcomed me with the warmth and intimacy of a lifetime lover, undressing me as my body gracefully shed one piece of clothing after another. There was an air of excited exploration: Despite their familiarity with whatever had taken control of me, every inch of my naked skin, every hair, every finger and toe was treated as a curiosity to be examined.
I felt my body gasp at the first kiss - a gentle peck on my inner thigh. My body smiled with amusement and allowed itself to be lowered onto a bed of gold tasselled pillows before opening its arms and legs to the storm of affection.
Kissing. Licking. Stroking. Squeezing. My body made no effort to resist as it was toyed with and tasted by this party of strangers, and I felt a thrill of physical excitement grow within me that I had never known before my possession.
Shortly afterwards I would reassure myself that I was the perversion of the degenerate mind controlling me that caused such feelings - that I would never experience that kind of enjoyment from such a debasing act.
I know now that I was a fool. My body has tasted something I could never hope to recreate within the confines of my drab morality, and its hunger for more would later drive me to madness.
I was the guest of honour that night, and my body was a dish to be sampled by all. I was forced to savour the taste of every guest in turn - the men, the women, and those wore the face and body of one while sporting the genitals of the other. I had hated them at the time, assuming that they were conscious of and taking delight in my imprisonment and suffering. It is still possible that they were, but somehow I find it hard to loathe them now as I did then.
There were no ringmasters that I can recall; no one figure dominating the course of proceedings. Were it not for my own distress, I would have assumed the proceedings had no sinister puppeteer skulking in the shadows, but I sought one out in an attempt to distract myself from the physical sensations.
Callisto. I remember the name Callisto. The thing wearing my face had recognised her and I had felt my traitor heart leap in my chest at the sight of her. She was beautiful. I could admit that, even in the throes of my own misery. She had descended through the forest of bodies to press her lips against mine - lips that devoured the kiss with ravenous abandon.
What followed was a torrent of whispers in that unknown language, punctuated by giggles and yet more lashing of tongues. The thing within me was smitten with this woman, and she had recognised its presence, despite my face. My eyes were closed for much of their tryst, but often they would open and each would gaze into each other before bursting into more giggles or succumbing once more to their lust.
The sensation of something hot and rubbery against my thigh came as a shock to me, and as my gaze shifted to look, I expected to see some male suitor encroaching from between us. Instead, I saw an incongruously large penis sprouting from between Callisto’s legs, visibly bobbing as it twitched in time with her heartbeat.
My own shock failed to register on my face, which smiled with what I felt was both encouragement to the woman on top of me and a vindictive irony at my helplessness.
If Callisto was aware of my revulsion behind the smile, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she chose to slide her shaft between my legs, thrusting slowly back and forth so that its length ran along my nether lips in languid, luxurious strokes.
My body squealed, arching its back as I felt muscles within me twitch and spasm in delighted anticipation. Over the course of what felt like hours, my disgust reluctantly gave way to frustration - my body teased to the edge of orgasm again and again without reaching the peak.
I wanted to cry. To bed for forgiveness for whatever crime I had committed to deserve this humiliation, whatever it took for them to unchain or - if I must remain under their control - to at least give me release.
As I cried out in my own mind, I felt my body giggle again, and I realised with mortified horror that the thing controlling me was indeed aware of my own thoughts and was gaining a twisted sense of enjoyment from my distress.
Before I could rally any kind of indignant rage to admonish them with, my lips whispered a command to Callisto, who obliged by drawing back and thrusting into me until our crotches were pressed together.
My possessor had been ready for it, and wrapped my legs around her lover to better grind my body against her, moaning in ecstasy as I was forced to share in her pleasure. Every part of my skin was electrified, and I could feel every hair, every raised pore, every millimetre of my breasts and vulva and sweat-slick skin rubbing and sliding and stretching over my muscles as they contorted and twitched.
It was magical. As ashamed as I am to say it even now, it was like nothing I had experienced in my life up to that instant, and while I still try to convince myself that the memory makes me sick with disgust, the truth is that I am filled with a painful sense of longing for that moment and the many others that followed.
She had called out a name as she poured herself into me, the warmth of her seed spreading a fire throughout my body. “Artemis,” she had cried out, and my own body moaned hers in response. Even after the spasms eased, we spent some time simply basking in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of climax.
We did not remain in each other’s arms for long, and soon afterwards I would find myself once again being handed from partner to partner, sometimes one by one, sometimes in groups of four or more, each one of them hungry to savour this new morsel that had been puppeteered into their den. There was no effort to engage in intimacy, no connection formed other than the purely physical. I was the evening’s main dish, and I found myself being tasted by many mouths.
I wish I could say that I blacked out, or that overstimulation numbed me such that time passed in a blur. I was granted no such mercy. I remember clearly peeling my viscid skin from the evening’s final paramour. I remember finding my garments among the pile by the door. I remember the knowing leer of the hotel staff as I saw myself out the lobby to a waiting cab that answered to foreign instructions and demanded no fee. I remember my confusion slowly turning to horror as I recognised the streets I was being driven down - that the thing within me had somehow gleaned my address and was taking me home. Is that how they had found me? Had some enchantment been weaved on me as I slept, culminating in my capture earlier that day?
As I watched my body wash itself thoroughly, sneering at what modest comforts I could afford myself, I hoped with increasing desperation that the rising of a new sun would banish the nightmare. Despite certainly knowing my thoughts, my body gave no response besides rolling naked into bed and closing my eyes. I had only moments of darkness before the current of sleep dragged me under.
*
My eyes opened to the sound of my morning alarm, and it was with a sudden rush of relief that I sat up in dawn’s early light. That relief was short-lived, as my body had in truth been obeying its new master, who had simply risen as I would have done. Now I felt the world turn as my body spun out of bed and practically danced to the bathroom mirror to admire by the light of day the prize it had stolen.
The expression of vindictive glee it wore with my face contrasted against my own horror, and while it spared no words for what it was or why it had chosen me, it took the time to tease us both to solitary climax with my stolen hands.
Far from being freed, that morning marked the first full day of my new nightmare: A nightmare in which my body would walk familiar streets, greet familiar faces and complete familiar tasks without fault or any sign that I was anyone but myself. I soon realised that its knowledge of my address was not the fruit of reconnaissance, but its ability to effortlessly reach into my mind and pluck what memories it needed at will.
Trapped within myself, I watched as my body greeted my peers and superiors with the deference each deserved, attended the venues and gatherings at which my absence would be noted and carried out my duties to a standard surpassing my own. It was on this last point that I felt my wayward body becoming unaccountably aroused, as praise was heaped upon my impostor for the improvement in performance. I realised that whoever had taken my life, they were gaining a wicked sense of glee for living it better than I had, and that should my body ever be returned to me, I would struggle to live up to the new expectations my possessor had created for me.
It was with this terrible realisation that I watched my body bid farewell to my unsuspecting coworkers, hailing down a taxi and speaking once again in that unknown tongue. The cab drove us back to the hotel from the evening before, and my horror deepend at the revelation that last night’s humiliation had only been the first of many.
From that day onwards, debauchery became my body’s nightly diversion. I would wake with my body in the morning, watch during the day in the futile hope that some trusted friend would glean the falsehood of my countenance, then once again find myself victim to the myriad indecencies my body would visit upon itself and others.
Most times it would be at the same hotel, though on rare occasions I would find myself being piloted to one of the party member’s own domiciles. Against my will, I became familiar with the personal penthouses of many wealthy figures in the city, earning entry through various acts of self-debasement. Country cottages, summer homes, private jets; my body took itself on a tour between various spheres of power and influence, grovelling and dancing and mewling its way under every table to lick the floor clean of scraps.
Upon my first encounter with a true public figure, I had resolved to burn the sight of every face and the sound of every name into my memory, such that upon my eventual release I could throw back the curtain on the carnival of corruption and gain some measure of closure for the suffering inflicted upon me. Naively, I hoped to retain enough information to tear down their palaces of sin and expose their crimes to the world.
A stupid, childish ambition.
In the three months since my release, no matter how I wrack my brain, no matter how many newspaper photos I look at and how many public broadcasts I watch, not a single name or face evokes so much as a twitch of recognition. Whatever memories I had retained up to the day of my release, my possessor had reached into my mind and erased them.
But I remembered Callisto. Among the countless sea of fog-obscured faces that flooded my recollection, Callisto’s remained clear.
I saw her surprisingly rarely, given the relationship she had with the thing controlling me. I had no idea where she was on the many nights I endured without her, and there was no pattern or apparent purpose to her attendance. Some nights she was simply there waiting for me, and some nights she would arrive later and seek me out in the heaving, sighing, moaning mass of limbs and flesh.
Despite its many sordid engagements with countless partners, Callisto was the only one that my body was truly intimate with. They would burrow out a private nest among the pillows, slink away to some shadowed corner booth or in one case, cradle each other in the arms of the statue that dominated the hall where everyone could see, but none could reach.
Callisto was the first and only person my body invited back to my own apartment, and while I raged at this latest invasion of my privacy and trespass on my life, I could not overcome the excitement burning through my body as it gave Callisto a tour of my meagre dwellings.
Unlike Artemis, Callisto did not sneer. She had eyes only for her lover, and it wasn’t long before they were tumbling naked onto my bed.
I had invited some promising suitors to my apartment in the past, and in exceptional cases had invited them to spend the night in my bed, but I had experienced nothing like the overwhelming passion these creatures felt for each other. As they lay panting in the dim lamplight, gazing into each other’s eyes, I had to remind myself that the sensation of joyous fulfilment welling up in my heart was not my own, and that the gorgeous woman leaning in to press her lips against mine was not my lover, but a concubine to the foul thing that wore my face and had stolen my life.
It was perhaps six months since losing control of myself that I arrived as accustomed to the hotel banquet to find Callisto waiting for me but unaccountably nervous, as though she had suddenly shrunk in on herself and lost all sense of confidence.
She approached me with uncharacteristic trepidation and in a quavering voice spoke the name Artemis, as though unsure if I was still being controlled.
The thing wearing my face smiled, but not with the warmth or affection I had come to expect. It was a sinister smile. A predatory smile. And, like a predator, she drew Callisto into her arms and flung her to the floor before pouncing on top of her while the crowd roared with laughter.
Artemis seemed to have grown weary of her lover, and I felt my blood surge in unwanted excitement as I watched the horror of realisation drawn on Callisto’s face. I felt her body squirm beneath my weight as she cried out in pain and fear, begging for forgiveness as my hands roughly tore at her clothes. Despite her protestations, she was fully erect beneath her skirt and my body laughed at her humiliation as it brought her struggling upright, exposing her shame to the mocking throng.
I had never pictured Callisto as being possessed of physical or mental strength, and my suspicions were confirmed as the poor girl hung helplessly from one arm gripped by my own hand while my other jerked her roughly to climax.
She moaned piteously as she emptied her soul onto the marble floor, and when thrown to her knees and ordered to clean it with her mouth, she did so without resistance, weeping such that her tears mingled with her seed on the floor.
That was the last time I saw Callisto while deprived of control. I remember taking on new lovers to varying degrees of intimacy, but any memory of names or faces have been pulled clean from my mind.
My impression of the six months that followed were simply of the same routine: Appear as normal during the day, lascivious pursuits by night punctuated by weekends of debauchery.
It was with a genuine sense of shock that one morning I woke up to find that my body did not rise from my bed of its own accord, nor did it leap to the mirror to admire itself. Instead, it lay listlessly in bed, staring at the ceiling.
With a great effort of will, reforging the connection from months of disuse, I raised my hand up to my face.
My body was my own once more.
*
I did not cheer, I did not even smile. I realised that despite my freedom, I had somehow not recovered control of my body. Even the steady rise and fall of my breast was automatic, and I could neither slow nor hold my breath.
It took several frustrating minutes just to move my eyes and turn my head. Moving my limbs felt like swimming in mud, and I would have cried from the effort if I could only remember how.
I could not stand. I could barely raise myself on all fours, the softness of the mattress causing me to lose what little balance I could muster. It was not until I heard the chime of my phone that I realised I had spent several hours simply trying to get out of bed.
Mercifully, my phone was close to hand, and while the first two calls failed before I could reach it, I was able to answer the third.
“Angie, where are you? It’s almost midday!”
I recognised the voice as my supervisor. Thanks to my artificially improved performance, I was her star employee, and her concern at my sudden absence was clear in her voice.
“Hrrn,” I said, my throat thick and my tongue sluggish.
“Angie? Are you there?”
“Heeln,” I managed, my vision swimming with the effort.
“Oh my God, Angie. Are you okay?”
“Herlp. Mrr.” It was all I could think of saying.
“Oh, God. Oh, God, Angie you stay where you are, I’m going to get help.”
It was a thin silver lining of my possession. Possibly Artemis had intended it from the start: That the person charged with contacting me from work would also be kind enough not simply to worry, but also to act if she thought I was in danger. No doubt she believed I was suffering some kind of medical emergency, though she could never have guessed the truth.
I soon found myself in hospital, where I was diagnosed with a sudden onset neurological disorder. The doctors had come to that conclusion after many frustrated attempts to quantify my condition via their many scans and tests. They suggested more out of hope than certainty that my condition would improve with rest and gradual physical therapy.
I wasn’t about to correct them. Not simply because of my inability to speak or write, but also because they would most definitely have deemed me insane as well as crippled.
Their prognosis proved sound, despite their ignorance. Over the course of the next four weeks, I gradually regained the use of my own body thanks to the patience of the staff assigned to me. It was maddeningly tedious, frustrating work, but by the end of the month I was able to walk unassisted out of the hospital to the taxi that was waiting for me.
For a moment I thought I might recognise the driver, or that they might recognise me. I had already come to the realisation that my memories had been tampered with, but if I perhaps mumbled something in the correct tone with enough confidence, would he still think me under Artemis’ control?
I gave my address and went home.
After that, my life fell apart. As predicted, I could not match the workplace performance Artemis had given while wearing my body, and what began as sympathy for my recent hospitalisation turned to frustration at my inability to recover.
Compounding my poor state of mind was the persistent sensation of emptiness that stole over me in the night: The feeling that I should be wrapped in the arms of another, gorging myself on their scent and sweat instead of languishing alone in the coldness of solitude.
Weeks passed one after the other with not only a failure to improve but the bitter void within me growing deeper with every passing night. I would dream of Callisto’s tear-stained face and wake up begging for forgiveness.
I entertained the idea of returning to the hotel, to the crucible of sin I had been forced to spend a year of my life, but the fantasy of what would happen on my arrival grew increasingly deranged. No arm of the law could be trusted to stand against the men who had taken advantage of my body while I was possessed, and even if I could somehow fool the guards into thinking I was still being controlled, what could I hope to achieve upon my return?
Despite this, I found myself helplessly drawn to the street outside the hotel in the safety of daylight, trapped at the periphery, both hoping and dreading being seen and recognised.
It was there, nine months after last laying eyes on her, that I saw Callisto.
I did not call out, but instead ran with a silent desperation to catch up to her as she moved through the crowd. The sound of my footsteps drew her attention, and she turned just as I drew close enough to reach out and grab her.
The look of sudden terror on her face caused my heart to sink, but her expression quickly turned to one of confusion as she clearly saw the difference in my nature since our last meeting.
“You,” she said, with none of the fear I remembered in her voice. “You’re not Artemis, are you?”
It was in that moment that I felt the ground tilt beneath me, a sudden dizziness claiming my mind as I came to terms with the implications of her question.
A pair of arms grabbed me, not unkindly but without unwarranted tenderness. I looked into eyes I had been made to fall in love with against my will, and saw another soul behind them.
She wasn’t Callisto. She never had been. Just as the thing that answered to the name Artemis had worn me as its meat puppet, a creature that called itself Callisto had worn her.
The horror must have shown in my expression, because hers softened as one who had experienced the same loss and revelation.
She embraced me then, and I held onto her as though she were the only real thing in the world: Two lovers deprived of their souls.
We found ourselves at a nearby cafe sometime later, recounting the circumstances of our respective capture, speculating how it was done and pointedly pretending not to know any intimate details of the other’s anatomy.
Her name was Christina, and after what seemed like much internal debate, she asked if I wanted to go back.
I was horrified at the suggestion, bringing up her own mistreatment as reason never to return, but she admitted that even after her rejection and humiliation at my hands under Artemis’ control, she had continued attending other venues to indulge her carnal impulses, describing the same cold hollowness that had robbed me of sleep for so many nights.
I told her that I would need some time to think about it, and in the dying light of the setting sun, she offered to walk me home.
She did not in fact remember my address from her evening with Artemis - Callisto having robbed her of the memory - but her face lit up in recognition when I let her into my apartment. Neither of us needed to say that she had never intended to simply walk me home, and after a brief moment of awkwardness, we found ourselves in each other’s arms once again, though for the first time of our own volition.
The lovemaking was… awkward. Neither of us possessed the confidence, nor ravenous hunger for the other that the creatures controlling us had possessed, but there was a sincerity to the moment we shared that was entirely unique.
My body still remembered the shape of her as she pushed herself into me, hesitant despite the countless times we had rutted with abandon in the past. There were no heroic thrusts, no cries of triumph or ecstasy; just a pair of stringless puppets filling the hole in one another’s lives.
*
We returned to the hotel the next morning. My life was beyond recovery, and Christina seemed to have given up on her own.
The true extent of her despair did not dawn on me until I witnessed the familiarity with which she was greeted by the denizens of the grand hall. A familiarity that betrayed the fact that she had in fact already returned, possibly while I was still possessed and that the memory of seeing her again had simply been erased from my mind.
Too numb with shock to resist, I found myself being led first by Christina but soon by the entire congregation, shepherding and pulling and lifting me up to the feet of the statue where two figures lay draped in its arms.
Despite wearing new faces, I recognised their expressions at once. Artemis and Callisto leered down at us: Two discarded skins now returned to their lair.
Through a haze of terror I heard Christina praise their names and claimed me as her other half in the coming sacrifice. I had no knowledge of what she was speaking of, but whatever horror lay in store for me seemed a fitting start to yet another nightmare.
The body of the woman Artemis now wore sniffed, looking down at me with scorn. She wondered aloud if I had actually been informed of the coming ritual, chastising Christina with a reminder that the sacrifice must be voluntary or the coming rite would fail.
Christina turned to me then, an anguished hope in her eyes.
We could still be together. Not as Callisto and Artemis, not as Christina and Angela, but as the new souls that would be summoned from beyond the void to fill our vessels and once again give purpose to our lives.
We had tasted the joy of subjugation, and would remain forever desolate if we continued to obstinately exist without a master.
She had deceived me. By omission and by trickery, she had deceived me into returning here, but on this she spoke truly. She knew I had felt the emptiness within me as surely as my own warm heart had been plucked from my chest - and emptiness she had been forced to suffer half a year longer than I. I saw in her desperation what I could become if I refused.
I agreed, though neither the triumphant roar of the throng nor the tight, grateful embrace Christina gave me assuaged my fear.
There was no drinking of blood or reading of entrails, no sonorous gong or ringing of bells. It happened in an instant. No sooner had Christina tearfully released me than I felt the shiver run through me once more.
It was different this time: Where a year ago, it had felt like stepping through a sheet of frigid water, now it was like a distant pattering of freezing droplets raining down on me, first as a trickle but gradually growing into a flood.
In my soul I knew what the difference was: Over a year ago, I had been assaulted by the will of some foul spirit that already commanded a foothold in our world. Now some new demon was being called, called from across the infinite planes of space to its new home in my mortal shell.
In my terror, I considered resisting, but it was already too late. I gasped as the mist filled me - the last action I would ever make with my own body. I felt the rivulets of ice spread from my chest into my spine, splitting into countless fine hairs that ran along my arms and legs into hands, feet, fingers and toes. I felt the cold reach up into my neck, my skull, my face and finally, my mind. I felt it dig its cold claws into every inch of me before wresting control like an apple plucked from the tree.
I felt full. I felt whole. I felt my face break into a lascivious smile, mirrored on the face of what was no longer Christina as we stood, still with our arms around each other.
As the beings controlling us sealed their dominion over our bodies with a kiss, I felt Christina’s length sliding into my already slick womanhood, our bodies like virgins to the occupying souls.
As our conquered bodies rapidly reached climax, I felt the invading spirit settle over mine completely and knew with terrible certainty that this one would never let go.
I was wrong.
It had been three months since I had felt the presence slither out of my mind. Three months since I had been trapped as a helpless passenger in my own body, watching it gleefully debase itself in ways I had never dared imagine.
There had been no warning: One moment I had been waiting in line to audition for some minor speaking role, when a sudden shiver ran through me. The person sitting next to me had asked if I was okay, and I’d tried to make a joke about how nervous I was. Instead, my body silently stood up and began to walk briskly towards the exit.
I had tried to cry out. I tried to stop myself. I tried to trip myself up, swivel my eyes or even blink in a way that might signal to someone that something was terribly wrong, but I completely lost control of my own faculties. Some outside force had seized control of my body and walked it smartly into the elevator, taking us down to the lobby, out the studio doors and into the city’s seedy underbelly.
Well, perhaps not exactly. As my body began to pilot itself towards what I recognised as the red light district, I felt myself almost blacking out in panic - the thought of being trapped as my body handed out back-alley blowjobs filling me with a sense of sickness beyond simple nausea.
To my bitter relief, I watched myself sashay into the most salubrious venue in the city: More a luxury hotel than a whorehouse, but everyone knew that the turndown service included some very intimate extras.
I felt my face flex into a charming smile to the bouncer and saw his look of amused recognition. I’d never seen the brute in my life, but I realised with horror that I was just the latest victim of whatever sick perversion was taking place.
It is a terrible thing to feel your lips and tongue move of their own accord, speaking words not your own in a language you don’t even understand. Some cryptic collection of syllables whispered to the concierge that I could not have hoped to remember even the next day, let alone now.
I - my body, and whatever was controlling it - was given access to the service lift, disembarking into a hall that looked like a modernised Mount Olympus: Laden tables, bubbling fountains, crystalline pools, cushioned lounges and of course, an entourage of gorgeous men and women in various states of undress.
They did not seem gorgeous when I first laid eyes on them. In my state of horror and revulsion, I saw them only as whores and deviants; accomplices to the crime being committed against me. Now I remember their lithe physiques and alluring expressions with what I can only think of as a desperate, carnal thirst.
This is the curse that has scarred me since my release. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been freed from whatever monster had stolen a year of my life; the memory of the pleasures it enjoyed with my flesh remains, and I wake up at night feeling terribly cold and alone.
They had welcomed me with the warmth and intimacy of a lifetime lover, undressing me as my body gracefully shed one piece of clothing after another. There was an air of excited exploration: Despite their familiarity with whatever had taken control of me, every inch of my naked skin, every hair, every finger and toe was treated as a curiosity to be examined.
I felt my body gasp at the first kiss - a gentle peck on my inner thigh. My body smiled with amusement and allowed itself to be lowered onto a bed of gold tasselled pillows before opening its arms and legs to the storm of affection.
Kissing. Licking. Stroking. Squeezing. My body made no effort to resist as it was toyed with and tasted by this party of strangers, and I felt a thrill of physical excitement grow within me that I had never known before my possession.
Shortly afterwards I would reassure myself that I was the perversion of the degenerate mind controlling me that caused such feelings - that I would never experience that kind of enjoyment from such a debasing act.
I know now that I was a fool. My body has tasted something I could never hope to recreate within the confines of my drab morality, and its hunger for more would later drive me to madness.
I was the guest of honour that night, and my body was a dish to be sampled by all. I was forced to savour the taste of every guest in turn - the men, the women, and those wore the face and body of one while sporting the genitals of the other. I had hated them at the time, assuming that they were conscious of and taking delight in my imprisonment and suffering. It is still possible that they were, but somehow I find it hard to loathe them now as I did then.
There were no ringmasters that I can recall; no one figure dominating the course of proceedings. Were it not for my own distress, I would have assumed the proceedings had no sinister puppeteer skulking in the shadows, but I sought one out in an attempt to distract myself from the physical sensations.
Callisto. I remember the name Callisto. The thing wearing my face had recognised her and I had felt my traitor heart leap in my chest at the sight of her. She was beautiful. I could admit that, even in the throes of my own misery. She had descended through the forest of bodies to press her lips against mine - lips that devoured the kiss with ravenous abandon.
What followed was a torrent of whispers in that unknown language, punctuated by giggles and yet more lashing of tongues. The thing within me was smitten with this woman, and she had recognised its presence, despite my face. My eyes were closed for much of their tryst, but often they would open and each would gaze into each other before bursting into more giggles or succumbing once more to their lust.
The sensation of something hot and rubbery against my thigh came as a shock to me, and as my gaze shifted to look, I expected to see some male suitor encroaching from between us. Instead, I saw an incongruously large penis sprouting from between Callisto’s legs, visibly bobbing as it twitched in time with her heartbeat.
My own shock failed to register on my face, which smiled with what I felt was both encouragement to the woman on top of me and a vindictive irony at my helplessness.
If Callisto was aware of my revulsion behind the smile, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she chose to slide her shaft between my legs, thrusting slowly back and forth so that its length ran along my nether lips in languid, luxurious strokes.
My body squealed, arching its back as I felt muscles within me twitch and spasm in delighted anticipation. Over the course of what felt like hours, my disgust reluctantly gave way to frustration - my body teased to the edge of orgasm again and again without reaching the peak.
I wanted to cry. To bed for forgiveness for whatever crime I had committed to deserve this humiliation, whatever it took for them to unchain or - if I must remain under their control - to at least give me release.
As I cried out in my own mind, I felt my body giggle again, and I realised with mortified horror that the thing controlling me was indeed aware of my own thoughts and was gaining a twisted sense of enjoyment from my distress.
Before I could rally any kind of indignant rage to admonish them with, my lips whispered a command to Callisto, who obliged by drawing back and thrusting into me until our crotches were pressed together.
My possessor had been ready for it, and wrapped my legs around her lover to better grind my body against her, moaning in ecstasy as I was forced to share in her pleasure. Every part of my skin was electrified, and I could feel every hair, every raised pore, every millimetre of my breasts and vulva and sweat-slick skin rubbing and sliding and stretching over my muscles as they contorted and twitched.
It was magical. As ashamed as I am to say it even now, it was like nothing I had experienced in my life up to that instant, and while I still try to convince myself that the memory makes me sick with disgust, the truth is that I am filled with a painful sense of longing for that moment and the many others that followed.
She had called out a name as she poured herself into me, the warmth of her seed spreading a fire throughout my body. “Artemis,” she had cried out, and my own body moaned hers in response. Even after the spasms eased, we spent some time simply basking in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of climax.
We did not remain in each other’s arms for long, and soon afterwards I would find myself once again being handed from partner to partner, sometimes one by one, sometimes in groups of four or more, each one of them hungry to savour this new morsel that had been puppeteered into their den. There was no effort to engage in intimacy, no connection formed other than the purely physical. I was the evening’s main dish, and I found myself being tasted by many mouths.
I wish I could say that I blacked out, or that overstimulation numbed me such that time passed in a blur. I was granted no such mercy. I remember clearly peeling my viscid skin from the evening’s final paramour. I remember finding my garments among the pile by the door. I remember the knowing leer of the hotel staff as I saw myself out the lobby to a waiting cab that answered to foreign instructions and demanded no fee. I remember my confusion slowly turning to horror as I recognised the streets I was being driven down - that the thing within me had somehow gleaned my address and was taking me home. Is that how they had found me? Had some enchantment been weaved on me as I slept, culminating in my capture earlier that day?
As I watched my body wash itself thoroughly, sneering at what modest comforts I could afford myself, I hoped with increasing desperation that the rising of a new sun would banish the nightmare. Despite certainly knowing my thoughts, my body gave no response besides rolling naked into bed and closing my eyes. I had only moments of darkness before the current of sleep dragged me under.
*
My eyes opened to the sound of my morning alarm, and it was with a sudden rush of relief that I sat up in dawn’s early light. That relief was short-lived, as my body had in truth been obeying its new master, who had simply risen as I would have done. Now I felt the world turn as my body spun out of bed and practically danced to the bathroom mirror to admire by the light of day the prize it had stolen.
The expression of vindictive glee it wore with my face contrasted against my own horror, and while it spared no words for what it was or why it had chosen me, it took the time to tease us both to solitary climax with my stolen hands.
Far from being freed, that morning marked the first full day of my new nightmare: A nightmare in which my body would walk familiar streets, greet familiar faces and complete familiar tasks without fault or any sign that I was anyone but myself. I soon realised that its knowledge of my address was not the fruit of reconnaissance, but its ability to effortlessly reach into my mind and pluck what memories it needed at will.
Trapped within myself, I watched as my body greeted my peers and superiors with the deference each deserved, attended the venues and gatherings at which my absence would be noted and carried out my duties to a standard surpassing my own. It was on this last point that I felt my wayward body becoming unaccountably aroused, as praise was heaped upon my impostor for the improvement in performance. I realised that whoever had taken my life, they were gaining a wicked sense of glee for living it better than I had, and that should my body ever be returned to me, I would struggle to live up to the new expectations my possessor had created for me.
It was with this terrible realisation that I watched my body bid farewell to my unsuspecting coworkers, hailing down a taxi and speaking once again in that unknown tongue. The cab drove us back to the hotel from the evening before, and my horror deepend at the revelation that last night’s humiliation had only been the first of many.
From that day onwards, debauchery became my body’s nightly diversion. I would wake with my body in the morning, watch during the day in the futile hope that some trusted friend would glean the falsehood of my countenance, then once again find myself victim to the myriad indecencies my body would visit upon itself and others.
Most times it would be at the same hotel, though on rare occasions I would find myself being piloted to one of the party member’s own domiciles. Against my will, I became familiar with the personal penthouses of many wealthy figures in the city, earning entry through various acts of self-debasement. Country cottages, summer homes, private jets; my body took itself on a tour between various spheres of power and influence, grovelling and dancing and mewling its way under every table to lick the floor clean of scraps.
Upon my first encounter with a true public figure, I had resolved to burn the sight of every face and the sound of every name into my memory, such that upon my eventual release I could throw back the curtain on the carnival of corruption and gain some measure of closure for the suffering inflicted upon me. Naively, I hoped to retain enough information to tear down their palaces of sin and expose their crimes to the world.
A stupid, childish ambition.
In the three months since my release, no matter how I wrack my brain, no matter how many newspaper photos I look at and how many public broadcasts I watch, not a single name or face evokes so much as a twitch of recognition. Whatever memories I had retained up to the day of my release, my possessor had reached into my mind and erased them.
But I remembered Callisto. Among the countless sea of fog-obscured faces that flooded my recollection, Callisto’s remained clear.
I saw her surprisingly rarely, given the relationship she had with the thing controlling me. I had no idea where she was on the many nights I endured without her, and there was no pattern or apparent purpose to her attendance. Some nights she was simply there waiting for me, and some nights she would arrive later and seek me out in the heaving, sighing, moaning mass of limbs and flesh.
Despite its many sordid engagements with countless partners, Callisto was the only one that my body was truly intimate with. They would burrow out a private nest among the pillows, slink away to some shadowed corner booth or in one case, cradle each other in the arms of the statue that dominated the hall where everyone could see, but none could reach.
Callisto was the first and only person my body invited back to my own apartment, and while I raged at this latest invasion of my privacy and trespass on my life, I could not overcome the excitement burning through my body as it gave Callisto a tour of my meagre dwellings.
Unlike Artemis, Callisto did not sneer. She had eyes only for her lover, and it wasn’t long before they were tumbling naked onto my bed.
I had invited some promising suitors to my apartment in the past, and in exceptional cases had invited them to spend the night in my bed, but I had experienced nothing like the overwhelming passion these creatures felt for each other. As they lay panting in the dim lamplight, gazing into each other’s eyes, I had to remind myself that the sensation of joyous fulfilment welling up in my heart was not my own, and that the gorgeous woman leaning in to press her lips against mine was not my lover, but a concubine to the foul thing that wore my face and had stolen my life.
It was perhaps six months since losing control of myself that I arrived as accustomed to the hotel banquet to find Callisto waiting for me but unaccountably nervous, as though she had suddenly shrunk in on herself and lost all sense of confidence.
She approached me with uncharacteristic trepidation and in a quavering voice spoke the name Artemis, as though unsure if I was still being controlled.
The thing wearing my face smiled, but not with the warmth or affection I had come to expect. It was a sinister smile. A predatory smile. And, like a predator, she drew Callisto into her arms and flung her to the floor before pouncing on top of her while the crowd roared with laughter.
Artemis seemed to have grown weary of her lover, and I felt my blood surge in unwanted excitement as I watched the horror of realisation drawn on Callisto’s face. I felt her body squirm beneath my weight as she cried out in pain and fear, begging for forgiveness as my hands roughly tore at her clothes. Despite her protestations, she was fully erect beneath her skirt and my body laughed at her humiliation as it brought her struggling upright, exposing her shame to the mocking throng.
I had never pictured Callisto as being possessed of physical or mental strength, and my suspicions were confirmed as the poor girl hung helplessly from one arm gripped by my own hand while my other jerked her roughly to climax.
She moaned piteously as she emptied her soul onto the marble floor, and when thrown to her knees and ordered to clean it with her mouth, she did so without resistance, weeping such that her tears mingled with her seed on the floor.
That was the last time I saw Callisto while deprived of control. I remember taking on new lovers to varying degrees of intimacy, but any memory of names or faces have been pulled clean from my mind.
My impression of the six months that followed were simply of the same routine: Appear as normal during the day, lascivious pursuits by night punctuated by weekends of debauchery.
It was with a genuine sense of shock that one morning I woke up to find that my body did not rise from my bed of its own accord, nor did it leap to the mirror to admire itself. Instead, it lay listlessly in bed, staring at the ceiling.
With a great effort of will, reforging the connection from months of disuse, I raised my hand up to my face.
My body was my own once more.
*
I did not cheer, I did not even smile. I realised that despite my freedom, I had somehow not recovered control of my body. Even the steady rise and fall of my breast was automatic, and I could neither slow nor hold my breath.
It took several frustrating minutes just to move my eyes and turn my head. Moving my limbs felt like swimming in mud, and I would have cried from the effort if I could only remember how.
I could not stand. I could barely raise myself on all fours, the softness of the mattress causing me to lose what little balance I could muster. It was not until I heard the chime of my phone that I realised I had spent several hours simply trying to get out of bed.
Mercifully, my phone was close to hand, and while the first two calls failed before I could reach it, I was able to answer the third.
“Angie, where are you? It’s almost midday!”
I recognised the voice as my supervisor. Thanks to my artificially improved performance, I was her star employee, and her concern at my sudden absence was clear in her voice.
“Hrrn,” I said, my throat thick and my tongue sluggish.
“Angie? Are you there?”
“Heeln,” I managed, my vision swimming with the effort.
“Oh my God, Angie. Are you okay?”
“Herlp. Mrr.” It was all I could think of saying.
“Oh, God. Oh, God, Angie you stay where you are, I’m going to get help.”
It was a thin silver lining of my possession. Possibly Artemis had intended it from the start: That the person charged with contacting me from work would also be kind enough not simply to worry, but also to act if she thought I was in danger. No doubt she believed I was suffering some kind of medical emergency, though she could never have guessed the truth.
I soon found myself in hospital, where I was diagnosed with a sudden onset neurological disorder. The doctors had come to that conclusion after many frustrated attempts to quantify my condition via their many scans and tests. They suggested more out of hope than certainty that my condition would improve with rest and gradual physical therapy.
I wasn’t about to correct them. Not simply because of my inability to speak or write, but also because they would most definitely have deemed me insane as well as crippled.
Their prognosis proved sound, despite their ignorance. Over the course of the next four weeks, I gradually regained the use of my own body thanks to the patience of the staff assigned to me. It was maddeningly tedious, frustrating work, but by the end of the month I was able to walk unassisted out of the hospital to the taxi that was waiting for me.
For a moment I thought I might recognise the driver, or that they might recognise me. I had already come to the realisation that my memories had been tampered with, but if I perhaps mumbled something in the correct tone with enough confidence, would he still think me under Artemis’ control?
I gave my address and went home.
After that, my life fell apart. As predicted, I could not match the workplace performance Artemis had given while wearing my body, and what began as sympathy for my recent hospitalisation turned to frustration at my inability to recover.
Compounding my poor state of mind was the persistent sensation of emptiness that stole over me in the night: The feeling that I should be wrapped in the arms of another, gorging myself on their scent and sweat instead of languishing alone in the coldness of solitude.
Weeks passed one after the other with not only a failure to improve but the bitter void within me growing deeper with every passing night. I would dream of Callisto’s tear-stained face and wake up begging for forgiveness.
I entertained the idea of returning to the hotel, to the crucible of sin I had been forced to spend a year of my life, but the fantasy of what would happen on my arrival grew increasingly deranged. No arm of the law could be trusted to stand against the men who had taken advantage of my body while I was possessed, and even if I could somehow fool the guards into thinking I was still being controlled, what could I hope to achieve upon my return?
Despite this, I found myself helplessly drawn to the street outside the hotel in the safety of daylight, trapped at the periphery, both hoping and dreading being seen and recognised.
It was there, nine months after last laying eyes on her, that I saw Callisto.
I did not call out, but instead ran with a silent desperation to catch up to her as she moved through the crowd. The sound of my footsteps drew her attention, and she turned just as I drew close enough to reach out and grab her.
The look of sudden terror on her face caused my heart to sink, but her expression quickly turned to one of confusion as she clearly saw the difference in my nature since our last meeting.
“You,” she said, with none of the fear I remembered in her voice. “You’re not Artemis, are you?”
It was in that moment that I felt the ground tilt beneath me, a sudden dizziness claiming my mind as I came to terms with the implications of her question.
A pair of arms grabbed me, not unkindly but without unwarranted tenderness. I looked into eyes I had been made to fall in love with against my will, and saw another soul behind them.
She wasn’t Callisto. She never had been. Just as the thing that answered to the name Artemis had worn me as its meat puppet, a creature that called itself Callisto had worn her.
The horror must have shown in my expression, because hers softened as one who had experienced the same loss and revelation.
She embraced me then, and I held onto her as though she were the only real thing in the world: Two lovers deprived of their souls.
We found ourselves at a nearby cafe sometime later, recounting the circumstances of our respective capture, speculating how it was done and pointedly pretending not to know any intimate details of the other’s anatomy.
Her name was Christina, and after what seemed like much internal debate, she asked if I wanted to go back.
I was horrified at the suggestion, bringing up her own mistreatment as reason never to return, but she admitted that even after her rejection and humiliation at my hands under Artemis’ control, she had continued attending other venues to indulge her carnal impulses, describing the same cold hollowness that had robbed me of sleep for so many nights.
I told her that I would need some time to think about it, and in the dying light of the setting sun, she offered to walk me home.
She did not in fact remember my address from her evening with Artemis - Callisto having robbed her of the memory - but her face lit up in recognition when I let her into my apartment. Neither of us needed to say that she had never intended to simply walk me home, and after a brief moment of awkwardness, we found ourselves in each other’s arms once again, though for the first time of our own volition.
The lovemaking was… awkward. Neither of us possessed the confidence, nor ravenous hunger for the other that the creatures controlling us had possessed, but there was a sincerity to the moment we shared that was entirely unique.
My body still remembered the shape of her as she pushed herself into me, hesitant despite the countless times we had rutted with abandon in the past. There were no heroic thrusts, no cries of triumph or ecstasy; just a pair of stringless puppets filling the hole in one another’s lives.
*
We returned to the hotel the next morning. My life was beyond recovery, and Christina seemed to have given up on her own.
The true extent of her despair did not dawn on me until I witnessed the familiarity with which she was greeted by the denizens of the grand hall. A familiarity that betrayed the fact that she had in fact already returned, possibly while I was still possessed and that the memory of seeing her again had simply been erased from my mind.
Too numb with shock to resist, I found myself being led first by Christina but soon by the entire congregation, shepherding and pulling and lifting me up to the feet of the statue where two figures lay draped in its arms.
Despite wearing new faces, I recognised their expressions at once. Artemis and Callisto leered down at us: Two discarded skins now returned to their lair.
Through a haze of terror I heard Christina praise their names and claimed me as her other half in the coming sacrifice. I had no knowledge of what she was speaking of, but whatever horror lay in store for me seemed a fitting start to yet another nightmare.
The body of the woman Artemis now wore sniffed, looking down at me with scorn. She wondered aloud if I had actually been informed of the coming ritual, chastising Christina with a reminder that the sacrifice must be voluntary or the coming rite would fail.
Christina turned to me then, an anguished hope in her eyes.
We could still be together. Not as Callisto and Artemis, not as Christina and Angela, but as the new souls that would be summoned from beyond the void to fill our vessels and once again give purpose to our lives.
We had tasted the joy of subjugation, and would remain forever desolate if we continued to obstinately exist without a master.
She had deceived me. By omission and by trickery, she had deceived me into returning here, but on this she spoke truly. She knew I had felt the emptiness within me as surely as my own warm heart had been plucked from my chest - and emptiness she had been forced to suffer half a year longer than I. I saw in her desperation what I could become if I refused.
I agreed, though neither the triumphant roar of the throng nor the tight, grateful embrace Christina gave me assuaged my fear.
There was no drinking of blood or reading of entrails, no sonorous gong or ringing of bells. It happened in an instant. No sooner had Christina tearfully released me than I felt the shiver run through me once more.
It was different this time: Where a year ago, it had felt like stepping through a sheet of frigid water, now it was like a distant pattering of freezing droplets raining down on me, first as a trickle but gradually growing into a flood.
In my soul I knew what the difference was: Over a year ago, I had been assaulted by the will of some foul spirit that already commanded a foothold in our world. Now some new demon was being called, called from across the infinite planes of space to its new home in my mortal shell.
In my terror, I considered resisting, but it was already too late. I gasped as the mist filled me - the last action I would ever make with my own body. I felt the rivulets of ice spread from my chest into my spine, splitting into countless fine hairs that ran along my arms and legs into hands, feet, fingers and toes. I felt the cold reach up into my neck, my skull, my face and finally, my mind. I felt it dig its cold claws into every inch of me before wresting control like an apple plucked from the tree.
I felt full. I felt whole. I felt my face break into a lascivious smile, mirrored on the face of what was no longer Christina as we stood, still with our arms around each other.
As the beings controlling us sealed their dominion over our bodies with a kiss, I felt Christina’s length sliding into my already slick womanhood, our bodies like virgins to the occupying souls.
As our conquered bodies rapidly reached climax, I felt the invading spirit settle over mine completely and knew with terrible certainty that this one would never let go.
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Welcome to America's Sexiest Gameshow! Where your ass and more can win cash as long as you're willing! We got three amazing contestants here to win prizes. So, let's see what challenges we can put them through, what truths they will reveal, and how many times we can make the audience cum! This... is Truth! Dare! And Derriere!
“Hello everyone and welcome back to another exciting episode of…Say it with me folks!” The host leaned in closer towards the audience.
“Truth! Dare! And Derriere!!” The audience roared into a cheer as they clapped for the start of the show.
“That’s right. This is Truth, Dare, and Derriere, the only game show where we’re legally allowed to show your ass and more on broadcast television!” There were quite a few cheers and whistles from the audience before the host gestured for everyone to settle down. “As usual, I’m your host, Atticus Ghul.”
Atticus had been the host of Truth, Dare, and Derriere for the past seven years, having taken over after his father, Colbert, retired. Standing at a respectable 6’ 2”, Atticus had the personality, charm, and body to follow in his father’s footsteps. A freshly groomed beard, black hair that transitioned into silver curls, and a tan skin tone; it was no wonder that he quickly made headlines. His choices for Derriere and his charm dazzled audiences and pulled in crowds like no other, even succeeding his father.
Atticus cleared his throat and adjusted the tie on his suit before continuing on. “We searched the streets to find our set of contestants. So, let’s meet them, shall we?”
He gestured to his left where there was a set of three stands, each of which were where the contestants would stand behind. Behind those stands were a set of large blue curtains with golden ornate patterns on them. A set of spotlights danced around before settling in the middle of the curtains.
“Introducing our first contestant! She’s a soccer mom from Boston with two kids fresh off to college! Everyone, give it up for Siobhan Newchester!”
Coming out of the curtains was a 5’ 6” blonde haired woman, about in her mid-forties, with D cups that had a hefty bounce to them. She had fair skin with freckles to match her complexion. She was wearing a sleek pair of gray sweatpants that hugged her round ass, paired with a white blouse that showed off her curves. Siobhan practically danced her way onto the stage as the crowd cheered for her. She blew kisses to the audience and little winks before making her way to her designated spot on the stage.
“Isn’t she just lovely folks?” Atticus tapped a set of cards onto his desk and pointed to the curtain. “Our next contestant is working for his Business degree at Spaton University! Everyone, give it up for Charlie Tanner!”
Next out of the curtains was a young man, easily in his early twenties. He had dark skin, clearly from tanning, and brown hair that was combed back. He strutted out onto the stage, winking and pointing finger guns at the audience. His shirt was a tank top that read “FRAT LIFE” on it and his shorts barely came down to the middle of his thighs. Charlie walked over to Siobhan, pulled down his sunglasses and looked at her.
“Hey there, foxy mama. What are you doing later? Answer. Could be me.” Charlie flashed a cheesy grin.
“Hey!” Atticus said, snapping his fingers. “Save it for the game.”
Charlie shrugged and walked over to his stand, but not before holding his hand up to Siobhan and gestured “Call me,” to which Siobhan blushed a little.
“Alright, and our final contestant tonight is a bartender at Penny’s Pub in Vegas! Give it up for Raddia Van Pelt!”
The final contestant out of the curtains was a dark-skinned woman; her black hair half-shaved on the left and down to about her neck. She had a confident swagger to her, unlike the cocky attitude of Charlie. She wore a red T-shirt that had a deep V-neck to it, which showed off her C cups, along with a deeper red jacket. Her jeans hugged against her legs, showing off her toned thighs as she walked to her place at the stand.
“Welcome contestants! We’re so glad to have you all here!” Atticus said as he quieted down the crowd.
“So honored to be here!” Siobhan said as she smiled to the cameras.
“I still can’t believe I got chosen,” Raddia said as she turned to the audience and then to Attticus.
“Well, you better believe it. You’re here and it’s all real. Both the set and the bodies you’re about to see!” Atticus said, gesturing to the cameras.
“YEAH!” Charlie said as he hooted. “Gonna get to see some fresh tail tonight!”
“Well you better be careful,” Atticus said, “That tail we see tonight might be yours.”
“Bring it on,” Charlie said, “I ain’t afraid of any dares! I’ve seen every episode!”
“Pfft, you watch this show on your own?” Raddia said, smirking.
“Nah bro, I watch this with the boys!” Charlie said, pointing at the audience. “Shout out to my homies back in Cincinnati! Whoo whoo!”
“You’re all raring to go, so let’s jump right into the rule!” Atticus said as he turned in his chair, gesturing to his right.
Appearing from under a light was a large digital board of 84 squares, arranged in a 7 by 12 grid. On the left were player icons, representing the three contestants. The squares were labeled 1-84 from left to right and top to bottom. Each of them were one of five colors: green, blue, yellow, red, and rainbow. On the right side was a checkered banner labeled “BONUS!”
“For those who are coming back for another episode, welcome back,” Atticus said, looking at the cameras. “For those of you who are just tuning in for the first time and wondering ‘what the hell is this show and can they really show this much public nudity on live TV?’ The answer is that this is Truth, Dare, and Derriere. And thanks to a legal loophole, if you think we’ve shown you anything naughty, you haven’t seen anything yet.
“Here’s how the game works. Contestants, you will take turns moving across the board, one square at a time, in whatever path that you choose. When you get to a square, you will decide either Truth or Dare. Answer the question truthfully or do the dare, you get the square and some cash! Fail to do the dare or if our special magic lie detector machine catches you lying, you get punished! Players can move in any direction across the board and can move back onto squares they have already captured. Moving onto a square another player has captured results in you doing the dare that was on that square.
“Every square has a color. Green squares are the easiest challenges and worth the least amount. Blue ones are harder but worth more. Yellow squares are worth a lot more, but also much harder. Red ones are the hardest challenges and questions, but they are also worth the most. Rainbow ones are where your fellow contestants will challenge you to something.
“The first player to reach the other side of the board ends the game and moves onto the bonus round. When that happens, everyone gets the cash they’ve earned and the winner gets a chance to win some extra cash. Everyone got it?”
The three contestants nodded their heads.
“Excellent! Then, let’s play…”
“Truth! Dare! And Derriere!” The audience cheered.
“Now, first up is going to be Siobhan,” Atticus said as he gestured to the board. The first column of squares consisted of 3 green squares, 2 blue squares, 1 yellow, and 1 red. “Pick whichever square you want.”
Siobhan looked at the different options and pondered them. “Well, let’s start out a little slow. I’ll take Green Number 1, Atticus.” With that, her player icon moved to the Green 1 square.
“Alright, now, Siobhan, what will it be? Truth or Dare?” Atticus said as he flipped through his cards to find the associated question and dare for that square.
“I’ll go with a truth,” Siobhan said as the crowd clapped for her choice.
“Fantastic!” Atticus said as he leaned over his desk. “So, Siobhan, for $20, tell us, who was your first sexual encounter with?”
“Oh gosh,” Siobhan said with a chuckle. “We’re already starting off like this, are we?”
“Pfft, that’s so tame!” Charlie said.
“Oh hush you,” Siobhan said as she stuck her tongue out at Charlie before turning back over to Atticus. “Well, my first sexual encounter was my second ex’s 18th birthday party. He wanted me to give him a blowjob for a gift, so I gave him one.”
“Come on!” Charlie groaned. “Give us more details than that!”
“Details! Details! Details!” the audience cheered.
“Well, you heard them,” Atticus said as he gestured for the audience to quiet down. “Siobhan, if you would please, for an extra $10, give us a more vivid description.”
“Oh, alright,” Siobhan said, twirling her hair. “So, it was the afternoon of his 18th birthday party. At the time, I was dating Brett, the hottest guy from the drama club. He was having the party at his parent’s house, so there were a bunch of people we knew from school, as well as a few of his family members.
“I was wearing a very sexy blue dress that I only brought out for special occasions, and my boyfriend at the time’s birthday seemed like a good one. We were mostly in the backyard, people mingling about and everything. There was a glorious cake that his mother had baked while his father was manning the grill.
“Brett came over to me at some point during the party and whispered into my ear, ‘I wanna show you this awesome gift I got. Come to my bedroom in about half an hour’ At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about. I mean, he loved to collect figurines and such, so I expected that he was gonna show me something like that.
“I went to meet him after excusing myself from a conversation with his aunt to go to the bathroom and headed into his room.
“‘Alright Brett. I’m here. What did you wanna show me?’
“‘Shhh, keep your voice down, Siobhan. And shut the door.’
“I shut the door quickly and walked over to him.
“‘Okay, what’s the awesome gift you got?’
“‘Well, I haven’t gotten it yet.’
“‘Okay. What is it? Is it being delivered?’
“‘Yeah, and it just got here.’
“At that point, he reached down and unzipped his pants, dropping his cock in front of me. I gasped in surprise, but he brushed his hand against my face.
“‘The awesome gift is the one you’re about to give me. A nice wet blowjob.’
“At that point, he used his hand to push me down onto my knees, bringing me face to face with his dick that was getting harder and harder by the moment. I was just in awe, staring at this erect 5 inch cock in front of me. Again, this was, like, the first time that I had ever done anything sexual. Of course I had watched porn, but I had never done anything like that. But, he wanted this as a gift and I wasn’t about to disappoint my boyfriend.
“So, I started by taking it slow. I reached my hand up and gently began to stroke it, feeling his warm shaft in my palm from the base to the tip. At the tip, I stuck out my tongue and slowly swirled it around like I had seen different porn actors do. He let out a gentle moan, so I had a feeling that I was doing something right.
“Of course, I could only tease him like this for so long. He reached back and put his hands on my head, guiding my mouth to slowly start to take in his cock. It was my first time ever tasting someone’s cock, so I was a little surprised at the taste. But, it felt really nice inside my mouth. I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, using my fingers to make a little O shape to stroke the parts that I couldn’t fit inside.
“He moaned in pleasure, especially loud when I flicked my tongue along his cock, lubing it right up with my spit. I was hungry for it. I wanted more but I didn’t know the best way to do it. And of course, I wanted to give him the best first blowjob. At some point, he stopped letting me move on my own and holding my head in place. He made me drop my fingers and used his hips to thrust in and out of my mouth. I could feel every inch of him inside my mouth, and I couldn’t help but moan in delight.
“‘Take those tits out. I wanna see them bounce as I fuck your face.’
“I did as he requested, dropping down my dress to bring out my tits. Just seeing them made his dick twitch. He stopped moving his hips and instead started moving my head. I’m sure it felt different and even better for him, but I really think he just wanted to see my tits bounce. I tightened up my cheeks against the sides of his cock, loving every moment as it slid along inside. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter, each thrust sending shivers down my spine as he used me.
“I must have been doing really good because he wasn’t able to last that long. He started moving my head and his hips at the same time, thrusting in as deep as possible into my mouth. I loved just how rough he was with me, and honestly, I wish he had been rougher. I can take it. And he made sure that I could take it all as he gripped my hair tightly. I felt his cock twitch intensely as he came into my mouth. The taste of sperm mixed with my spit for a delightfully salty flavor. Now, I didn’t want to get any on my dress, otherwise everyone would know what we just did. So, I swallowed. Ah, you never forget your first time swallowing cum, and frankly, after that, I was addicted. Once he finished, he pulled out of my mouth and tucked his dick back into his pants, panting heavily. I put my dress back on properly, covering back up my tits.
“‘That… was… fucking amazing. Holy shit are you so good at this, Siobhan.’
“‘Thank you. That was amazing as well. I hope we can do that again soon.’
“And that’s the story of my first sexual encounter,” Siobhan said, blushing red at the fond memories. “God, I’m wet just remembering that. And Brett, if you’re out there, well, I guess your family and friends know now.”
“Now THAT’S details!” Charlie said as he hooted. “I am rock hard after that, baby!”
“As am I,” Atticus said. “That story right there just earned you a solid $30 to start off. Not bad at all.” Siobhan’s score at the front of her stand was updated to show her new winnings. “So, next up is Charlie. Charlie, what are you gonna pick?”
“Oh, if I’m going in, I’m going all in!” Charlie said, giving the air a thrust. “Atticus, I’m taking Red number 49!”
“Whoa! Alright! Starting off swinging out of the gates, are we, Charlie?” Atticus chuckled as he picked up the card for number 49 as Charlie’s player token moved to the space. “Now, Truth or Dare?”
“I ain’t scared of nothing!” Charlie said as he tried to hype up the crowd. “Hit me with a dare!”
“As you wish!” Atticus said as he looked over at Charlie. He patted onto the desk and coming out from behind the curtain was a cart being wheeled out by one of the stage hands. Sitting on the cart was a 10-inch rubber dildo and a gallon jug of lube. All of the contestants' eyes went wide as their minds processed what the challenge was. Raddia could hardly contain her laughter. “Charlie, for $200, I dare you to take this full, 10-inch dildo, up the ass.”
Charlie coughed, just to make sure that he heard Atticus right. “Uh, Atticus, buddy, what’s the punishment if I fail or don’t do it?”
“Oh, you said you’ve seen this show before,” Atticus teased. “You know that we don’t tell you the punishment unless you fail or refuse. So, what will it be? Attempt the dare or take the punishment?”
“Come on bro! You can do it!” a loud voice came from the crowd.
“Oh? And who do we have in the crowd today?” Atticus said.
“That’s my boy Trev! He came to support me!” Charlie said as he hooted back at the crowd, pounding his fist on his chest. “Atticus, I’m doing the dare!”
“Feel free to use as much lube as you need,” Atticus said, watching intently.
The crowd cheered as Charlie walked over to it. Charlie looked at the dildo up and down before pouring half of the lube onto the dildo. He stroked it hard, lubing it right up until his hand was practically sliding right off of it. He took a deep breath as he looked at it.
“Do it for the money, bro,” he said to himself as he dropped his pants and boxers.
“Oh wow,” Siobhan said as she leaned over to get a better look at Charlie’s package, which was at five inches even while flaccid.
“Damn. Frat boy is packing,” Raddia said, leaning forward with a smile on her face.
“Let’s do this!”
Charlie kicked off his pants and put the dildo on the ground. He took the rest of the lube and ran it down his back, rubbing his ass cheeks together to lube up as best as he could. Charlie positioned his ass over the dildo and squatted down until his ass barely touched the dildo’s tip. Charlie took a deep breath and clenched his teeth.
The moment the dildo entered his ass, everyone could hear a loud moan come from him. Slowly, he went further down the dildo. His breathing became heavier and his dick got harder and harder.
“Come on, be a man and take it all!” Raddia shouted, then whistled. “God that’s hot.” She slipped her hand underneath her waistband and began to play with herself.
Charlie was now three inches into the dildo, grunting as he continued to work his way down.
“Don’t clench!” Trev shouted from the audience. “Relax your ass!”
“Bro, I’m trying! It’s like I’m shitting upwards!” Charlie shouted back. He groaned loudly as he went down to five inches, which causes his dick to now be fully hard, standing at a full 7 and a half inches.
“Halfway there!” Atticus said.
“I got this!” Charlie said, more trying to convince himself than anyone else. He slid down further on the dildo, now seven inches. “Fuck dude, it’s so big!”
“That’s what she said!” Raddia said, her hand feverishly working at her crotch.
“I’m just gonna…” Charlie said, as he took a deep breath. “Go for it!” He let his feet go from under him, causing him to take the remaining three inches up into his ass. Charlie groaned loudly, but he stuck his hands into the air. “I did it!” The crowd cheered wildly as Charlie turned to audience, basking in their adoration.
“Well done!” Atticus said, clapping his hands. “Charlie, you just took ten inches and came out of that $200 richer!” He pointed and Charlie’s winnings went up to $200.
Charlie groaned loudly as he lifted himself off the dildo. “Hell yeah dude!” He rubbed his ass, breathing heavily as he went to retrieve his pants.
“And now, we’re onto you, Raddia,” Atticus said as he turned to the board. “Raddia, what are you picking?”
“Let’s see,” Raddia said as she mulled over her options. “I’ll take Blue 61, Atticus.”
“Great choice,” Atticus said as he picked up the card. “Now, truth or dare?”
“I’ll take a dare,” Raddia said with a confident smile.
“Sounds good,” Atticus said as he prepared to read the card. “Raddia, since you seemed to have such a fun time playing with yourself, for $50, I dare you to let a random audience member write on your body.”
“Pfft, is that all?” Raddia said. “I’m taking that dare. Easy money!” She stepped out to the center of the stage. “Go on! I’m your canvas!”
“Look at her, folks! Already ready and raring to go!” Atticus said. “Now, let’s pick a random audience member.” He brought out two jars of ping-pong balls, one set had letters and the other had numbers. He shuffled his hands through them and pulled out a letter and number. “Seat number D13! Come on down!”
“Whoo!” Standing up was a man in a business suit. He stepped his way through the clapping audience and made his way down to the stage. By the time that he came down, Raddia had already stripped down to her underwear.
“Sir, what is your name?” Atticus said.
“Kevin,” the man said. One of the stage hands approached him with an array of colored body-safe markers.
“Great name! Well, Kevin, go right ahead. Write as much as you want,” Atticus said, gesturing to Raddia.
Kevin smiled as he picked up the blue marker. He turned Raddia’s cheeks, writing WH on her right cheeks and RE on her left cheeks so with her mouth, it spelled out WHORE. On her tits, he wrote “Dump your cum here” with arrows between her cleavage in green. On her left arm, he put a tally counter that read “Men serviced” and he put seven tally marks in white. Kevin moved down to her stomach and wrote “Insert dick here” with an arrow pointing to her crotch in red marker. He spun Raddia around and on her back, right above her ass, he wrote “Kevin’s Bitch” in orange. Finally he wrote “SLUT” all over her body in purple.
“There we go,” Kevin said, satisfied with his work. He handed back the markers to the stage hand and returned to his seat.
“Well Raddia, give us a twirl. Let’s see the handiwork,” Atticus said.
“Man, was that all?” Raddia said as she spun around slowly, letting everyone get a good look at her. “I was expecting something more, Kevin.”
“Well, you did it,” Atticus said, gesturing for Raddia’s winnings to increase by $50. “You can head back to your spot now.” Raddia nodded and picked up her clothes, heading back to her place behind her stand. She didn’t even bother to put back on her clothes.
“And that, folks, is the end of our first round!” The audience cheered and clapped. “We’re already starting out strong with some wonderful contestants! And we will keep going… after this commercial break!”
“Hello everyone and welcome back to another exciting episode of…Say it with me folks!” The host leaned in closer towards the audience.
“Truth! Dare! And Derriere!!” The audience roared into a cheer as they clapped for the start of the show.
“That’s right. This is Truth, Dare, and Derriere, the only game show where we’re legally allowed to show your ass and more on broadcast television!” There were quite a few cheers and whistles from the audience before the host gestured for everyone to settle down. “As usual, I’m your host, Atticus Ghul.”
Atticus had been the host of Truth, Dare, and Derriere for the past seven years, having taken over after his father, Colbert, retired. Standing at a respectable 6’ 2”, Atticus had the personality, charm, and body to follow in his father’s footsteps. A freshly groomed beard, black hair that transitioned into silver curls, and a tan skin tone; it was no wonder that he quickly made headlines. His choices for Derriere and his charm dazzled audiences and pulled in crowds like no other, even succeeding his father.
Atticus cleared his throat and adjusted the tie on his suit before continuing on. “We searched the streets to find our set of contestants. So, let’s meet them, shall we?”
He gestured to his left where there was a set of three stands, each of which were where the contestants would stand behind. Behind those stands were a set of large blue curtains with golden ornate patterns on them. A set of spotlights danced around before settling in the middle of the curtains.
“Introducing our first contestant! She’s a soccer mom from Boston with two kids fresh off to college! Everyone, give it up for Siobhan Newchester!”
Coming out of the curtains was a 5’ 6” blonde haired woman, about in her mid-forties, with D cups that had a hefty bounce to them. She had fair skin with freckles to match her complexion. She was wearing a sleek pair of gray sweatpants that hugged her round ass, paired with a white blouse that showed off her curves. Siobhan practically danced her way onto the stage as the crowd cheered for her. She blew kisses to the audience and little winks before making her way to her designated spot on the stage.
“Isn’t she just lovely folks?” Atticus tapped a set of cards onto his desk and pointed to the curtain. “Our next contestant is working for his Business degree at Spaton University! Everyone, give it up for Charlie Tanner!”
Next out of the curtains was a young man, easily in his early twenties. He had dark skin, clearly from tanning, and brown hair that was combed back. He strutted out onto the stage, winking and pointing finger guns at the audience. His shirt was a tank top that read “FRAT LIFE” on it and his shorts barely came down to the middle of his thighs. Charlie walked over to Siobhan, pulled down his sunglasses and looked at her.
“Hey there, foxy mama. What are you doing later? Answer. Could be me.” Charlie flashed a cheesy grin.
“Hey!” Atticus said, snapping his fingers. “Save it for the game.”
Charlie shrugged and walked over to his stand, but not before holding his hand up to Siobhan and gestured “Call me,” to which Siobhan blushed a little.
“Alright, and our final contestant tonight is a bartender at Penny’s Pub in Vegas! Give it up for Raddia Van Pelt!”
The final contestant out of the curtains was a dark-skinned woman; her black hair half-shaved on the left and down to about her neck. She had a confident swagger to her, unlike the cocky attitude of Charlie. She wore a red T-shirt that had a deep V-neck to it, which showed off her C cups, along with a deeper red jacket. Her jeans hugged against her legs, showing off her toned thighs as she walked to her place at the stand.
“Welcome contestants! We’re so glad to have you all here!” Atticus said as he quieted down the crowd.
“So honored to be here!” Siobhan said as she smiled to the cameras.
“I still can’t believe I got chosen,” Raddia said as she turned to the audience and then to Attticus.
“Well, you better believe it. You’re here and it’s all real. Both the set and the bodies you’re about to see!” Atticus said, gesturing to the cameras.
“YEAH!” Charlie said as he hooted. “Gonna get to see some fresh tail tonight!”
“Well you better be careful,” Atticus said, “That tail we see tonight might be yours.”
“Bring it on,” Charlie said, “I ain’t afraid of any dares! I’ve seen every episode!”
“Pfft, you watch this show on your own?” Raddia said, smirking.
“Nah bro, I watch this with the boys!” Charlie said, pointing at the audience. “Shout out to my homies back in Cincinnati! Whoo whoo!”
“You’re all raring to go, so let’s jump right into the rule!” Atticus said as he turned in his chair, gesturing to his right.
Appearing from under a light was a large digital board of 84 squares, arranged in a 7 by 12 grid. On the left were player icons, representing the three contestants. The squares were labeled 1-84 from left to right and top to bottom. Each of them were one of five colors: green, blue, yellow, red, and rainbow. On the right side was a checkered banner labeled “BONUS!”
“For those who are coming back for another episode, welcome back,” Atticus said, looking at the cameras. “For those of you who are just tuning in for the first time and wondering ‘what the hell is this show and can they really show this much public nudity on live TV?’ The answer is that this is Truth, Dare, and Derriere. And thanks to a legal loophole, if you think we’ve shown you anything naughty, you haven’t seen anything yet.
“Here’s how the game works. Contestants, you will take turns moving across the board, one square at a time, in whatever path that you choose. When you get to a square, you will decide either Truth or Dare. Answer the question truthfully or do the dare, you get the square and some cash! Fail to do the dare or if our special magic lie detector machine catches you lying, you get punished! Players can move in any direction across the board and can move back onto squares they have already captured. Moving onto a square another player has captured results in you doing the dare that was on that square.
“Every square has a color. Green squares are the easiest challenges and worth the least amount. Blue ones are harder but worth more. Yellow squares are worth a lot more, but also much harder. Red ones are the hardest challenges and questions, but they are also worth the most. Rainbow ones are where your fellow contestants will challenge you to something.
“The first player to reach the other side of the board ends the game and moves onto the bonus round. When that happens, everyone gets the cash they’ve earned and the winner gets a chance to win some extra cash. Everyone got it?”
The three contestants nodded their heads.
“Excellent! Then, let’s play…”
“Truth! Dare! And Derriere!” The audience cheered.
“Now, first up is going to be Siobhan,” Atticus said as he gestured to the board. The first column of squares consisted of 3 green squares, 2 blue squares, 1 yellow, and 1 red. “Pick whichever square you want.”
Siobhan looked at the different options and pondered them. “Well, let’s start out a little slow. I’ll take Green Number 1, Atticus.” With that, her player icon moved to the Green 1 square.
“Alright, now, Siobhan, what will it be? Truth or Dare?” Atticus said as he flipped through his cards to find the associated question and dare for that square.
“I’ll go with a truth,” Siobhan said as the crowd clapped for her choice.
“Fantastic!” Atticus said as he leaned over his desk. “So, Siobhan, for $20, tell us, who was your first sexual encounter with?”
“Oh gosh,” Siobhan said with a chuckle. “We’re already starting off like this, are we?”
“Pfft, that’s so tame!” Charlie said.
“Oh hush you,” Siobhan said as she stuck her tongue out at Charlie before turning back over to Atticus. “Well, my first sexual encounter was my second ex’s 18th birthday party. He wanted me to give him a blowjob for a gift, so I gave him one.”
“Come on!” Charlie groaned. “Give us more details than that!”
“Details! Details! Details!” the audience cheered.
“Well, you heard them,” Atticus said as he gestured for the audience to quiet down. “Siobhan, if you would please, for an extra $10, give us a more vivid description.”
“Oh, alright,” Siobhan said, twirling her hair. “So, it was the afternoon of his 18th birthday party. At the time, I was dating Brett, the hottest guy from the drama club. He was having the party at his parent’s house, so there were a bunch of people we knew from school, as well as a few of his family members.
“I was wearing a very sexy blue dress that I only brought out for special occasions, and my boyfriend at the time’s birthday seemed like a good one. We were mostly in the backyard, people mingling about and everything. There was a glorious cake that his mother had baked while his father was manning the grill.
“Brett came over to me at some point during the party and whispered into my ear, ‘I wanna show you this awesome gift I got. Come to my bedroom in about half an hour’ At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about. I mean, he loved to collect figurines and such, so I expected that he was gonna show me something like that.
“I went to meet him after excusing myself from a conversation with his aunt to go to the bathroom and headed into his room.
“‘Alright Brett. I’m here. What did you wanna show me?’
“‘Shhh, keep your voice down, Siobhan. And shut the door.’
“I shut the door quickly and walked over to him.
“‘Okay, what’s the awesome gift you got?’
“‘Well, I haven’t gotten it yet.’
“‘Okay. What is it? Is it being delivered?’
“‘Yeah, and it just got here.’
“At that point, he reached down and unzipped his pants, dropping his cock in front of me. I gasped in surprise, but he brushed his hand against my face.
“‘The awesome gift is the one you’re about to give me. A nice wet blowjob.’
“At that point, he used his hand to push me down onto my knees, bringing me face to face with his dick that was getting harder and harder by the moment. I was just in awe, staring at this erect 5 inch cock in front of me. Again, this was, like, the first time that I had ever done anything sexual. Of course I had watched porn, but I had never done anything like that. But, he wanted this as a gift and I wasn’t about to disappoint my boyfriend.
“So, I started by taking it slow. I reached my hand up and gently began to stroke it, feeling his warm shaft in my palm from the base to the tip. At the tip, I stuck out my tongue and slowly swirled it around like I had seen different porn actors do. He let out a gentle moan, so I had a feeling that I was doing something right.
“Of course, I could only tease him like this for so long. He reached back and put his hands on my head, guiding my mouth to slowly start to take in his cock. It was my first time ever tasting someone’s cock, so I was a little surprised at the taste. But, it felt really nice inside my mouth. I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, using my fingers to make a little O shape to stroke the parts that I couldn’t fit inside.
“He moaned in pleasure, especially loud when I flicked my tongue along his cock, lubing it right up with my spit. I was hungry for it. I wanted more but I didn’t know the best way to do it. And of course, I wanted to give him the best first blowjob. At some point, he stopped letting me move on my own and holding my head in place. He made me drop my fingers and used his hips to thrust in and out of my mouth. I could feel every inch of him inside my mouth, and I couldn’t help but moan in delight.
“‘Take those tits out. I wanna see them bounce as I fuck your face.’
“I did as he requested, dropping down my dress to bring out my tits. Just seeing them made his dick twitch. He stopped moving his hips and instead started moving my head. I’m sure it felt different and even better for him, but I really think he just wanted to see my tits bounce. I tightened up my cheeks against the sides of his cock, loving every moment as it slid along inside. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter, each thrust sending shivers down my spine as he used me.
“I must have been doing really good because he wasn’t able to last that long. He started moving my head and his hips at the same time, thrusting in as deep as possible into my mouth. I loved just how rough he was with me, and honestly, I wish he had been rougher. I can take it. And he made sure that I could take it all as he gripped my hair tightly. I felt his cock twitch intensely as he came into my mouth. The taste of sperm mixed with my spit for a delightfully salty flavor. Now, I didn’t want to get any on my dress, otherwise everyone would know what we just did. So, I swallowed. Ah, you never forget your first time swallowing cum, and frankly, after that, I was addicted. Once he finished, he pulled out of my mouth and tucked his dick back into his pants, panting heavily. I put my dress back on properly, covering back up my tits.
“‘That… was… fucking amazing. Holy shit are you so good at this, Siobhan.’
“‘Thank you. That was amazing as well. I hope we can do that again soon.’
“And that’s the story of my first sexual encounter,” Siobhan said, blushing red at the fond memories. “God, I’m wet just remembering that. And Brett, if you’re out there, well, I guess your family and friends know now.”
“Now THAT’S details!” Charlie said as he hooted. “I am rock hard after that, baby!”
“As am I,” Atticus said. “That story right there just earned you a solid $30 to start off. Not bad at all.” Siobhan’s score at the front of her stand was updated to show her new winnings. “So, next up is Charlie. Charlie, what are you gonna pick?”
“Oh, if I’m going in, I’m going all in!” Charlie said, giving the air a thrust. “Atticus, I’m taking Red number 49!”
“Whoa! Alright! Starting off swinging out of the gates, are we, Charlie?” Atticus chuckled as he picked up the card for number 49 as Charlie’s player token moved to the space. “Now, Truth or Dare?”
“I ain’t scared of nothing!” Charlie said as he tried to hype up the crowd. “Hit me with a dare!”
“As you wish!” Atticus said as he looked over at Charlie. He patted onto the desk and coming out from behind the curtain was a cart being wheeled out by one of the stage hands. Sitting on the cart was a 10-inch rubber dildo and a gallon jug of lube. All of the contestants' eyes went wide as their minds processed what the challenge was. Raddia could hardly contain her laughter. “Charlie, for $200, I dare you to take this full, 10-inch dildo, up the ass.”
Charlie coughed, just to make sure that he heard Atticus right. “Uh, Atticus, buddy, what’s the punishment if I fail or don’t do it?”
“Oh, you said you’ve seen this show before,” Atticus teased. “You know that we don’t tell you the punishment unless you fail or refuse. So, what will it be? Attempt the dare or take the punishment?”
“Come on bro! You can do it!” a loud voice came from the crowd.
“Oh? And who do we have in the crowd today?” Atticus said.
“That’s my boy Trev! He came to support me!” Charlie said as he hooted back at the crowd, pounding his fist on his chest. “Atticus, I’m doing the dare!”
“Feel free to use as much lube as you need,” Atticus said, watching intently.
The crowd cheered as Charlie walked over to it. Charlie looked at the dildo up and down before pouring half of the lube onto the dildo. He stroked it hard, lubing it right up until his hand was practically sliding right off of it. He took a deep breath as he looked at it.
“Do it for the money, bro,” he said to himself as he dropped his pants and boxers.
“Oh wow,” Siobhan said as she leaned over to get a better look at Charlie’s package, which was at five inches even while flaccid.
“Damn. Frat boy is packing,” Raddia said, leaning forward with a smile on her face.
“Let’s do this!”
Charlie kicked off his pants and put the dildo on the ground. He took the rest of the lube and ran it down his back, rubbing his ass cheeks together to lube up as best as he could. Charlie positioned his ass over the dildo and squatted down until his ass barely touched the dildo’s tip. Charlie took a deep breath and clenched his teeth.
The moment the dildo entered his ass, everyone could hear a loud moan come from him. Slowly, he went further down the dildo. His breathing became heavier and his dick got harder and harder.
“Come on, be a man and take it all!” Raddia shouted, then whistled. “God that’s hot.” She slipped her hand underneath her waistband and began to play with herself.
Charlie was now three inches into the dildo, grunting as he continued to work his way down.
“Don’t clench!” Trev shouted from the audience. “Relax your ass!”
“Bro, I’m trying! It’s like I’m shitting upwards!” Charlie shouted back. He groaned loudly as he went down to five inches, which causes his dick to now be fully hard, standing at a full 7 and a half inches.
“Halfway there!” Atticus said.
“I got this!” Charlie said, more trying to convince himself than anyone else. He slid down further on the dildo, now seven inches. “Fuck dude, it’s so big!”
“That’s what she said!” Raddia said, her hand feverishly working at her crotch.
“I’m just gonna…” Charlie said, as he took a deep breath. “Go for it!” He let his feet go from under him, causing him to take the remaining three inches up into his ass. Charlie groaned loudly, but he stuck his hands into the air. “I did it!” The crowd cheered wildly as Charlie turned to audience, basking in their adoration.
“Well done!” Atticus said, clapping his hands. “Charlie, you just took ten inches and came out of that $200 richer!” He pointed and Charlie’s winnings went up to $200.
Charlie groaned loudly as he lifted himself off the dildo. “Hell yeah dude!” He rubbed his ass, breathing heavily as he went to retrieve his pants.
“And now, we’re onto you, Raddia,” Atticus said as he turned to the board. “Raddia, what are you picking?”
“Let’s see,” Raddia said as she mulled over her options. “I’ll take Blue 61, Atticus.”
“Great choice,” Atticus said as he picked up the card. “Now, truth or dare?”
“I’ll take a dare,” Raddia said with a confident smile.
“Sounds good,” Atticus said as he prepared to read the card. “Raddia, since you seemed to have such a fun time playing with yourself, for $50, I dare you to let a random audience member write on your body.”
“Pfft, is that all?” Raddia said. “I’m taking that dare. Easy money!” She stepped out to the center of the stage. “Go on! I’m your canvas!”
“Look at her, folks! Already ready and raring to go!” Atticus said. “Now, let’s pick a random audience member.” He brought out two jars of ping-pong balls, one set had letters and the other had numbers. He shuffled his hands through them and pulled out a letter and number. “Seat number D13! Come on down!”
“Whoo!” Standing up was a man in a business suit. He stepped his way through the clapping audience and made his way down to the stage. By the time that he came down, Raddia had already stripped down to her underwear.
“Sir, what is your name?” Atticus said.
“Kevin,” the man said. One of the stage hands approached him with an array of colored body-safe markers.
“Great name! Well, Kevin, go right ahead. Write as much as you want,” Atticus said, gesturing to Raddia.
Kevin smiled as he picked up the blue marker. He turned Raddia’s cheeks, writing WH on her right cheeks and RE on her left cheeks so with her mouth, it spelled out WHORE. On her tits, he wrote “Dump your cum here” with arrows between her cleavage in green. On her left arm, he put a tally counter that read “Men serviced” and he put seven tally marks in white. Kevin moved down to her stomach and wrote “Insert dick here” with an arrow pointing to her crotch in red marker. He spun Raddia around and on her back, right above her ass, he wrote “Kevin’s Bitch” in orange. Finally he wrote “SLUT” all over her body in purple.
“There we go,” Kevin said, satisfied with his work. He handed back the markers to the stage hand and returned to his seat.
“Well Raddia, give us a twirl. Let’s see the handiwork,” Atticus said.
“Man, was that all?” Raddia said as she spun around slowly, letting everyone get a good look at her. “I was expecting something more, Kevin.”
“Well, you did it,” Atticus said, gesturing for Raddia’s winnings to increase by $50. “You can head back to your spot now.” Raddia nodded and picked up her clothes, heading back to her place behind her stand. She didn’t even bother to put back on her clothes.
“And that, folks, is the end of our first round!” The audience cheered and clapped. “We’re already starting out strong with some wonderful contestants! And we will keep going… after this commercial break!”
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