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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....
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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."
Chapter 1: The Change Begins in Being My Ideal Mom(s)
by
ninhjimmy007
· 26 May 2025
The story starts where Nicky and Gena have been dating for about 2 years since they were in high school. Now, it's Summer and the school semester is finally over, so they can do whatever they want without doing a bunch of homework and boring lessons. Lately, he bought a strange amulet from the old shop that gives him the power to transform any person into his ideal woman.
You first discover your shapeshifting powers. in A Shapeshifting Story
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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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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 a powerful warrior cursed to become a maiden.
(Fantasy, MtF, Gradual Transformation, Curse, Revenge)
Fantasy story about a manly warrior who is cursed by a jilted lover to become less masculine and more feminine every time he orgasms.
(Fantasy, MtF, Gradual Transformation, Curse, Revenge)
Fantasy story about a manly warrior who is cursed by a jilted lover to become less masculine and more feminine every time he orgasms.
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You find a magic pen, anything it writes becomes true.
If the writing is in past tense the magic changes reality so it's always been that way, if the writing is in present tense it causes a change that people can notice.
If the writing is in past tense the magic changes reality so it's always been that way, if the writing is in present tense it causes a change that people can notice.
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Losely based on the game 'Horny Villa', but with a magical twist inspired by "Cumunji", written by Vexenfox
(I am still refining this adventure so it is possible things change over time.)
A place for people to gather and have fun, you made the villa as a retreat from reality, literally. After some pestering of your friends, you added a dash of magic.
You're not turning this villa in a full blown whorehouse (YET) , but a little horny magic here, a little perverse trick there, you get it.
Welcome to the Villa!
CHARACTERS
- You (Matt) - Owner of the Villa, average looks, average build. The whole 'faceless protagonist'-special.
- Jimmy - One of your best friends, he is a massive pervert, but has a good heart. Has always been a massive gamer. Now agent of chaos in your villa, he tries to run the whole thing on porn logic. The scary thing is, it works more than it should.
- Abby - She is what you would describe as a lady in the streets, an animal in the sheets. Her ginger hair has been neatly cut into a bob. She is very polite and shy, but if she is turned on she turns into one of the most aggressive subs you have ever seen.
She has a large natural rack, and fairly large hips.
- Eleanore - She has always been interested in everything and was the first of the girls who considered moving in. She is of average built. She has decent breasts and a fit figure. Her black hair has a blueish sheen to it. She always wares some mystical symbol on her person, a necklace or bracelet most of the time.
- Gemma - A free spirited skater girl with a penchant for chaos. She has an average built, decent chest and sporty legs. Her blonde hair is usually tied in a ponytail.
- Zoey - She is the resident airhead with a mean streak. She likes taking things that are not hers, especially boyfriends. She is a sporty petite with neon green hair with pink highlights.
- Debbie - A late arrival, they are always concerned about how they look, you think they might marry their mirror image.
SETTING & WORLD
The story is mainly set in your Villa, an extra dimensional pocket-plane. Most girls and boys in this story do not know about the villa's magic, but they will learn about it soon enough.
(I am still refining this adventure so it is possible things change over time.)
A place for people to gather and have fun, you made the villa as a retreat from reality, literally. After some pestering of your friends, you added a dash of magic.
You're not turning this villa in a full blown whorehouse (YET) , but a little horny magic here, a little perverse trick there, you get it.
Welcome to the Villa!
CHARACTERS
- You (Matt) - Owner of the Villa, average looks, average build. The whole 'faceless protagonist'-special.
- Jimmy - One of your best friends, he is a massive pervert, but has a good heart. Has always been a massive gamer. Now agent of chaos in your villa, he tries to run the whole thing on porn logic. The scary thing is, it works more than it should.
- Abby - She is what you would describe as a lady in the streets, an animal in the sheets. Her ginger hair has been neatly cut into a bob. She is very polite and shy, but if she is turned on she turns into one of the most aggressive subs you have ever seen.
She has a large natural rack, and fairly large hips.
- Eleanore - She has always been interested in everything and was the first of the girls who considered moving in. She is of average built. She has decent breasts and a fit figure. Her black hair has a blueish sheen to it. She always wares some mystical symbol on her person, a necklace or bracelet most of the time.
- Gemma - A free spirited skater girl with a penchant for chaos. She has an average built, decent chest and sporty legs. Her blonde hair is usually tied in a ponytail.
- Zoey - She is the resident airhead with a mean streak. She likes taking things that are not hers, especially boyfriends. She is a sporty petite with neon green hair with pink highlights.
- Debbie - A late arrival, they are always concerned about how they look, you think they might marry their mirror image.
SETTING & WORLD
The story is mainly set in your Villa, an extra dimensional pocket-plane. Most girls and boys in this story do not know about the villa's magic, but they will learn about it soon enough.
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A female who acquired ability to shapeshift. To get closer to her crush she becoming his girlfriend and made in love with him.
When she thought everything is wrong she leaves him. However in her way she ended up in the wrong crowd that she's not supposed to get involved with.
I stood in front of the mirror, examining every detail. The curve of her lips, the way her dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders, the faint freckles dotting her nose. Lena. His girlfriend. The woman whose life I was about to borrow for a night.
My skin tingled as I focused, my muscles shifting beneath the surface, bones adjusting with an almost imperceptible crackle. The transformation was always strange—like slipping into a second skin that wasn’t mine. But I’d done this before. Too many times, if I was being honest.
I exhaled, smoothing my hands—no, her hands—down the soft fabric of her favorite jeans and the loose, cream-colored sweater I’d pulled from her closet earlier. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut, but I pushed it down. This was for him. Only for him.
---
The knock on his door made my breath hitch. Three sharp raps, just like Lena always did. I could hear his footsteps inside, the muffled curse of surprise when he saw me through the peephole.
The door swung open, and there he was—Dylan. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his gray T-shirt was wrinkled in that effortlessly perfect way only he could pull off. His eyes widened.
"Lena?" he said, blinking. "I thought you left for your trip?"
I bit her lip the way she always did when she was nervous. "I canceled it," I said, my voice an exact replica of hers—soft, melodic. "I… I just missed you too much."
Dylan stared at me, confusion flickering across his face before dissolving into warmth. He stepped aside. "You’re insane," he murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You were supposed to be gone for a week."
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. The apartment smelled like him—warm, a little musky, with the faintest hint of coffee. Familiar. Safe.
"I changed my mind," I said, brushing past him, my fingers trailing over his arm. "Don’t you want me here?"
His breath caught, and I felt a thrill run through me. This was the game. I knew how Lena touched him, how she spoke to him, how she loved him. And tonight, I’d be better than her.
Dylan’s hands settled on my waist as he turned me toward him, his gaze searching my face. "Of course I want you here," he murmured. "But you never cancel plans. Especially not for me."
I let out a quiet laugh—hers, not mine. "Maybe I’m trying to be different," I said, tilting my head. My fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, letting my touch linger just a little longer than necessary.
He exhaled, the resistance in his shoulders melting under my touch. "You’re gonna make it really hard to focus on the game tonight,” he teased.
"Good," I whispered, leaning in.
Our lips met, and I forced myself to lose in the rhythm of her. The way she kissed—gentle at first, then hungrier. Dylan responded instantly, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
I hated this. Every second of it. The press of his mouth, the warmth of his hands sliding up my back, the insistence of his body against mine. But he loved it. And that was all that mattered.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, he grinned. "Damn. If this is what happens when you cancel trips, I might have to start sabotaging your suitcase."
I laughed—the sound perfectly hers, perfectly convincing—and let him lead me toward the couch, where I knew the night would only grow more intimate.
And as much as it twisted something inside me, I’d keep pretending. Because seeing him happy, seeing him hers, was all I ever wanted—even if it meant I’d never really be the one he loved.
....
The sun was setting as I sat cross-legged on the floor of my apartment, surrounded by layers of clothing heaped in disarray—her wardrobe, meticulously recreated down to the last stitch. I had spent months watching her, memorizing the way she moved, the way she spoke, even the way she laughed—soft and breathy, as if she were constantly on the verge of a secret.
It wasn’t just her face I had to mimic. It was her soul.
A knock at the door startled me.
Shifting back to myself had always felt like shedding a second skin—my body reforming into my natural curves, my dark curls springing free. I yanked open the door to find my neighbor, Mrs. Langley, standing there with a suspicious squint.
"Heather, you alright in there? Hearin’ all sorts of rustlin’."
I forced a smile. "Just reorganizing, mom. You know how it is."
She hummed, unconvinced, but shuffled off with a grumble.
Heather. That was the name I had given myself when I moved here. Safe. Unassuming. Not the girl who could become anyone else.
I smoothed my hands down my sides, swallowed hard, and closed my eyes. The shift came easier now, like shrugging into a familiar coat. My skin tingled, warming as muscle and bone reordered beneath it. My fingers lengthened, my hips softened, my nose reshaped into the delicate upturn of myself again.
When I opened my eyes again, I become myself again stared back at me from the mirror.
Heather had always been strategic with her ability. She never used it frivolously—only when an opportunity was too tempting to ignore. But this wasn’t just any opportunity. This was Dylan. The man who had consumed her thoughts for years, with his easy laughter and the way his dark eyes crinkled when he smiled. For so long, she had watched from afar, aching for something she could never truly have—until now.
Lena, his girlfriend, was away on a two-week business trip, leaving Dylan alone in their shared apartment. Heather had waited until nightfall, lingering outside until she saw the lights flick off in the bedroom window. Then, with a deep breath, she shifted.
It started at the base of her spine, a slow unspooling warmth that traveled through her limbs, her skin prickling as it stretched and reshaped itself into Lena’s softer curves. Her cheekbones lifted, her hips rounded, her fingers thinned—every detail mattered. She even adjusted her gait, matching Lena’s light, precise steps as she crossed the street.
The key under the flowerpot was still there, just as Lena had mentioned to a friend weeks ago. Heather’s heart hammered against her ribs as she turned it in the lock.
The apartment was quiet, lit only by the blue glow of the television. Dylan was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, his bare chest rising and falling in slow rhythm.
And that's how it started...
....
The next few hours were a blur of tangled limbs, whispered words, and the kind of intimacy Heather had only ever dreamed of. She hated the way her stomach twisted with guilt, hated the way her own pleasure was tangled up in the lie—but god, the way he touched her. The way he whispered Lena’s name against her skin.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and she fell asleep curled against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
When Heather woke, sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the tangled sheets. She shifted slightly—and froze.
Her own hands.
She bolted upright, panic searing through her veins. No, no, no— She had shifted back in her sleep. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, her own familiar frame unmistakable.
Dylan stirred beside her, still deep in sleep, one arm slung lazily over the empty space where Lena should have been.
Heather scrambled out of bed, her pulse hammering. If he woke up now—if he saw her—
She clenched her fists, focusing, and felt the shift ripple over her again. The relief was instant as Lena’s features returned, but the terror lingered. She couldn’t stay.
Moving fast, she gathered her scattered clothes, dressed in silence, and scribbled a note in Lena’s looping handwriting:
"Had to leave early—miss you already. Call you tonight."
She placed it on the pillow beside Dylan’s head, stealing one last glance at him before slipping out the door.
....
A diner a few blocks away provided temporary refuge. Heather slid into a corner booth, her hands trembling around a steaming mug of coffee. The reality of what she’d done settled heavy in her chest.
This wasn’t like her other little games—posing as a stranger for an hour, mimicking a co-worker to avoid confrontation. This was Dylan. And she had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.
But even as guilt gnawed at her, another thought slithered in:
Dylan had wanted her.
Or at least, he had wanted the version of her she had given him. She took a slow sip of coffee, her reflection staring back at her in warped distortion against the diner window.
What happens when Lena comes home?
And worse.
What happens if Dylan wants her to stay?
The diner’s bell jingled as Heather pushed through the door, the cold evening air biting at her skin. She pulled her jacket tighter, her thoughts still tangled with the weight of what she had done with Dylan. The coffee had done little to calm her nerves.
She turned down a dimly lit side street, the glow of streetlights flickering against the damp pavement. That’s when she saw them—a group of men, moving in hushed murmurs toward a narrow alley tucked between two weathered brick buildings.
Something about their demeanor set off a warning in the back of her mind. Shoulders hunched, collars pulled up, quick glances over their shoulders as if checking for pursuers.
This isn’t right.
Heather hesitated at the mouth of the alley, her pulse quickening. She should walk away. She should call the cops and let them handle it.
But curiosity was always her downfall.
She slipped into the shadows, pressing close to the wall as she followed them deeper into the alley, her footsteps silent against the cracked concrete. They stopped in front of a rusted metal door half-hidden under peeling graffiti. Above it, a dull red sign flickered:
MALES ONLY.
A muscle in Heather’s jaw twitched. Of course.
The men rapped a quick pattern on the door—three knocks, a pause, then two more. It creaked open, spilling a sliver of neon light onto the ground before swallowing them whole.
The door thudded shut behind them. Locked.
Heather exhaled sharply, weighing her options.
If this was some kind of underground smuggling ring, she should report it. But what if it was just some stupid exclusive party? A gathering for rich, obnoxious dudes who liked to pretend they were part of some secret society?
Her lips curled. Either way, she was getting in.
She ducked behind a dumpster, pulling in a slow breath. Shift or stay?
Shift.
She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar hum beneath her skin as bones realigned, muscles thickened, shoulders broadened. When she blinked, her reflection in a nearby puddle showed Dylan’s sharp jawline, his tousled dark hair—his face.
Good enough.
Approaching the door, she lifted her hand and mimicked the knock—three, pause, two.
A slot scraped open at eye level, revealing a pair of narrowed, shadowed eyes.
“Password?” the voice grunted.
Heather’s stomach plummeted. Shit.
She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Forcing Dylan’s easy confidence, she smirked. “C’mon, man. I just stepped out for a smoke. You really gonna make me say it again?”
Silence. Then—
The door swung open.
The bass hit her first—deep, throbbing, rattling up through the floorboards. Dim red lights pulsed in time with the music, casting long shadows over the crowded room. Men packed the space, some in sleek suits, others in leather jackets, all of them holding glasses of liquor that gleamed like liquid amber.
But it wasn’t just a party.
Against the far wall stood a row of cages—and inside them, women.
Heather’s breath stopped.
The air inside the basement was thick with sweat and the cloying scent of whiskey and arousal. Heather—still wearing Dylan’s form—stood frozen, her stomach churning as she took in the surreal horror unfolding around her.
Possession Club. It said on the screen.
There are women in cages weren’t just captives.
They were hosts.
The man on the stage, slick-haired and grinning like a carnival barker, gestured toward the cages with a flourish. "Another successful week for our members! Fifty-four possessions total—twenty sexual engagements, thirty-two solo performances, and even two lovely ladies who grew very familiar with each other!" The men around Heather erupted in laughter and cheers, raising their glasses.
Then the speaker’s eyes flicked to a woman crouched at the edge of the stage, her green bikini damp between her thighs as her fingers worked furiously at her own pussy. She didn’t seem to care that everyone was staring—her moans were loud, shameless, her hips bucking as she came right there in front of them.
"Ah, Sarah," the man on stage chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Still can’t control herself, I see."
Pulling her fingers free with a slick pop, the woman—Sarah—giggled, bouncing her breasts as she blew him a kiss. "Sorry~" she panted, not sounding sorry at all. "You know how pent-up I get when I’m not being used."
It was like watching a pornographic nightmare.
Heather’s skin crawled.
Suddenly, a mechanical groan filled the room as the speaker pulled a lever on the wall. The brick facade behind him split open, revealing a long hallway lined with glass rooms—each containing a different woman. Some writhed on beds, touching themselves. Others knelt obediently, waiting.
"Bookings are now open!" the man announced, waving a stack of plastic keycards. "Members with prior reservations, you know the drill. Newcomers—get your cards at the desk and pick your poison!"
The crowd surged forward, men jostling each other as they lined up to claim their "slots." Heather stumbled back, bumping into someone.
"Easy there, pal," a beefy guy in a leather vest drawled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "First time? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
Before Heather could respond, a commotion near the hallway entrance caught her attention. A wiry man in glasses downed a small pill, grinning as two burly men dragged a struggling woman toward him.
"P-Please, no! I don’t—I don’t want this!" the woman sobbed, kicking wildly. Heather’s fists clenched.
Then it happened.
The man in glasses shuddered—his form flickering like a TV with bad reception—before his entire body seemed to dissolve into mist. The smoky tendrils coiled through the air before plunging straight into the screaming woman’s mouth.
Her body convulsed.
Shaking. Twitching. Legs kicking as her back arched violently—
—and then, stillness.
Her eyes snapped open.
Glowing.
Slowly, a lazy, entirely male smirk spread across her lips. She—he—lifted a hand and groped her breast, squeezing hard with a chuckle. "Damn, this body is tight."
The crowd roared in approval. Heather was going to be sick. She turned and shoved her way toward the exit, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
They’re not just imprisoning women.
They’re stealing them.
And now, disguised as Dylan, she was trapped in a room full of monsters—with no idea how to get out.
The crowd pressed in around Heather like a living, breathing wall—hot, suffocating, reeking of alcohol and sweat. She shoved through, her shoulder knocking against a man’s chest, her elbow jostling another’s drink. Apologies died in her throat. She needed to get out.
But fate had other plans.
Her foot caught on something—a loose floorboard, someone’s outstretched leg—and she lurched forward, crashing straight into the man who had been on stage.
He steadied her with a grip like iron, his slick grin never faltering. Up close, his eyes were dark, calculating, the kind of gaze that peeled back layers without permission.
"Well, well," he purred, tilting his head. "Don’t recognize you. You new?"
Heather’s pulse hammered in her throat. She forced Dylan’s voice—low.. "Nah, just… been a while."
The man laughed, fingers tightening on her shoulder in a mock-friendly squeeze. "Bullshit. You’ve got that deer-in-headlights look all the newbies get." He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Relax. You’re among friends here."
Friends.
The word curdled in her gut as her gaze flicked past him—to the glass rooms where women lay sprawled, their bodies puppeteered by unseen invaders.
The man—the ringleader—stepped back, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to the club, brother. This is a sacred space. A place where men like us don’t just take pleasure…" His grin turned feral. "We become it."
He clapped her on the back like they were old pals. Heather’s skin crawled.
"Rules are simple," he continued, steering her toward the bar despite her stiff resistance. "What happens here stays here. If some nosy bitch catches wind and tries to run to the cops?" He chuckled, pouring a glass of amber liquor and sliding it toward her. "We reward her. Give her the ride of her life—permanently."
The threat hung in the air, thick as the bass vibrating through the floor.
Heather swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the glass. She needed to leave. Now.
"I, uh—I actually gotta bounce," she muttered, setting the drink down untouched. "Forgot I got shit to do—"
The ringleader’s hand clamped down on her wrist. "Nonsense." His smile never wavered, but his eyes turned glacial. "You just got here. And I insist you try before you go."
From his pocket, he produced a small vial—inside, tiny pills shimmered like crushed pearls.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
Possession pills.
"Go on," he urged, shaking one into her palm. "First one’s free."
The pill sat there, innocuous, deadly. Around her, the club pulsed with grotesque energy—men laughing, women moaning, bodies moving in ways that weren’t theirs.
She was outnumbered.
Outmatched.
And if she didn’t play along—she’d never make it out alive.
Heather’s fingers trembled around the pill, her mind racing for an escape. The dim, flickering lights of the private room made everything feel surreal—like she was trapped in some grotesque nightmare. The girl on the bed continued to writhe, her legs spread obscenely wide as she gazed at them with heavy-lidded eyes.
The ringleader smirked at Heather’s hesitation. "First-timer jitters. I get it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the girl. "Meet your instructor. Well, not really—the guy inside her is."
Heather’s jaw clenched. The way he spoke about it so casually, as if this were some kind of twisted mentorship program, made her skin crawl.
The girl on the bed giggled—inhumanly deep, wrong. Then, in a voice that didn’t match her delicate frame, she spoke. "Sup, newbie."
A shudder raced down Heather’s spine.
The ringleader smirked. "This fucker’s got the highest possession count in the club. Every girl in his school, every teacher, his best friend’s mom—name it, he’s been inside." He clapped Heather hard on the back. "He’s gonna show you the ropes."
With that, he turned and left, the lock clicking ominously behind him.
The moment the door sealed, the girl on the bed convulsed, her back arching as a thick, smokey mist forced itself out of her mouth. The specter lingered in the air for a second before condensing back into human form—a lanky, smirking guy in his early twenties, wearing a cocky grin that made Heather’s fists itch.
The girl collapsed onto the bed, gasping, her eyes wide and dazed. "W-Where…?" She clutched the sheets, disoriented.
He ignored her, stepping toward Heather—Dylan’s form—with an assessing gaze. "Alright, Dylan. Let’s get you started."
Heather forced Dylan’s voice, trying to steady it. "How… does this even work?"
The possessor smirked, plucking the pill from her palm and holding it up between two fingers. "Pop one of these, and boom—you’re a ghost. You can slip into any chick you want. No resistance, no fighting back. Just pure control." His grin widened. "But here’s the catch."
He tossed the pill back into her hand. "One pill lasts 24 hours. If you don’t take another before time runs out? Congrats—you’re stuck forever. No refunds."
A cold sweat broke out on the back of Heather’s neck.
The girl on the bed whimpered, trying to scoot back. "P-Please… just let me go…"
The possessor didn’t even glance at her. "Lesson one: Don’t get attached. They’re just shells. Our shells."
His fingers flicked out, snatching the pill back from Heather. Before she could react, he shoved it into the girl’s mouth, clamping his hand over her lips until she choked it down.
Then, like smoke through a crack, his body dissolved, swirling violently before surging back into her.
The girl’s body jerked, her pupils dilating unnaturally as his voice slithered out of her lips.
"Now," he purred, running a hand up her thigh, "let’s practice."
Horror coiled in Heather’s gut.
She had to get out.
Before she became the lesson.
"I'm not doing this," Heather growled, her voice trembling as she took a step back.
The girl's face—possessed by that leering bastard—twisted in confusion. "What the hell do you mean, no?" The throaty, masculine chuckle that slithered out of her delicate lips sent a wave of revulsion through Heather. "Dude, that's why you're here, ain't it?"
Heather's fists clenched at her sides, Dylan's borrowed body tense with barely restrained panic. "I changed my mind. I'm out."
She spun toward the locked door, desperation burning in her veins. The metallic click of the latch mocked her—no way out without a key. Her lungs tightened. Think, think, think—
A hand seized her wrist, yanking her backward. "Oh, hell no. You ain't goin' anywhere."
Heather twisted, wrenching free. "Get off—"
Her feet caught on the edge of the bed’s tangled sheets.
Time slowed.
She flailed, but gravity won.
Her temple slammed into the dresser’s sharp corner—a white-hot crack of pain—and then—
—everything unraveled.
A sickening warmth pooled beneath her skin, muscles writhing as bones snapped back into place. Curves reemerged. Height dissolved. Dylan’s broad shoulders melted into her own slender frame, his clothes suddenly baggy, drowning her.
The world swayed as she slumped to her knees, blinking through the haze.
She was herself again.
The girl on the bed—no, the man inside her—gaped. "What the—?"
Heather’s stomach plummeted.
No.
She reached up, fingers grazing the familiar shape of her own face—soft cheeks, full lips, her hair. Dylan’s borrowed form was gone.
The possessed girl’s expression morphed from shock to greedy fascination. A slow, vile grin split her face. "Well, well. A shapeshifter." He let out a low whistle. "Now that’s a rarity."
Heather scrambled back, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Stay away from me."
The girl—no, the thing wearing her—laughed, crawling off the bed in a way too predatory to be human. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you just became the main attraction."
The door rattled—the sound of a key turning.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
The lock clicked.
The pounding on the door was relentless.
"Yo, everything alright in there? Sounded like a damn fight!"
Inside the dimly lit room, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and something metallic—fear, desperation, the charged energy of a predator circling its prey.
The girl’s body—possessed by the grinning bastard who now knew Heather’s secret—rolled her eyes and called back, voice slick with amusement.
"Relax, man, just having too much fun in here!"
The lie dripped with the confidence of someone used to getting his way. The muffled chuckle from the other side of the door confirmed they bought it. Footsteps receded, leaving Heather alone with the monster standing between her and escape.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She was trapped.
Worse—she’d given herself away.
The man inside the girl cocked his head, eyes glinting in the dim light as he raked his gaze over Heather’s trembling form.
"You know," he mused, stepping closer, "I’ve seen some crazy shit in this club, but a shapeshifter? That’s a first." He grinned. "And damn if you don’t have a fine body to go with it."
Heather’s back hit the wall. Cold brick bit into her skin through own too-big shirt. She had no weapons. No backup.
And he knew exactly what she was.
The possessed girl stretched, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off a cramp. "Alright, here’s how this is gonna go." She—he—ticked the points off on delicate fingers:
1. "You don’t scream."
2. "You don’t fight."
3. "And maybe, just maybe, I don’t tell the guys outside you’re a walking, talking party trick they can all take for a spin."
He stepped closer, close enough that Heather could see the unnatural gleam in the girl’s eyes—too sharp, too male for the soft features they were trapped in.
"What do you say, shapeshifter girl? Deal?"
Heather spat in his face.
The girl’s head snapped back—but then the laugh came, low and dark. A slow swipe of her thumb wiped the saliva away, and when those eyes locked onto Heather again, they were hungry.
"Should’ve taken the deal."
Then— A gasp. A shudder.
The girl’s body convulsed, back arching violently as a thick, black mist spewed from her lips. It coiled in the air like smoke, twisting, seething— And then it lunged for Heather.
Cold.
That was her first thought.
It felt like drowning in ice water, like freezing fingers clawing down her throat, filling her lungs, her veins, her bones. Heather gagged, her body buckling under the invasion. Her vision swam—blurred—
And then came the pressure.
Pushing. Squeezing.
Something inside her screamed as the man’s presence forced its way in, tendrils of his will latching onto her nerves, her muscles, her thoughts— Heather’s fists clenched, nails biting into her palms.
*Get. Out.*
Her lips moved, words trembling. "You... can’t... have me." A scoff echoed in her skull—his voice, smug and condescending.
"Oh sweetheart, I already do."
And then— *Pain.*
Her right hand moved on its own, jerking up to claw at her own throat. Heather choked. Stop it—STOP IT— Her traitorous fingers tightened. Dark spots danced in her vision. Laughter, thick and cruel, vibrated through her bones.
"Fight all you want." A phantom tongue licked her lips from the inside. "But this body’s mine now."
Heather collapsed to her knees, gasping. It was like being locked in a glass box inside her own head—able to see, to feel, but powerless to stop what came next. Her hands lifted—not hers, his—and skimmed up her sides, groping, squeezing, testing.
"Damn, you weren’t kidding about this body." He cupped her breasts through the fabric, thumbs rolling her nipples until they pebbled tight. A groan rattled through her throat—his pleasure, not hers.
Tears burned her eyes as her own fingers hooked into the collar of Dylan’s shirt and yanked. Buttons popped, clattering to the floor. Cool air kissed her exposed skin.
"Yeah... that’s better."
Hands—her hands—palmed her bare tits, kneading with rough appreciation. "Fuck, these are perfect." His laughter slithered under her skin. "Bet you’ve made guys lose their minds with these, huh?"
Heather squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Then—
Her fingers trailed lower. Over her stomach.
Down, down—
She thrashed internally, screaming, pleading, but it was no use. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. And when her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, when they found the slick heat between her legs—
It was his voice that moaned.
It was his will that made her cum.
That was the first sound—ragged, satisfied breaths filling the silence of the room. Heather’s body slumped against the wall, spent, trembling. The man inside her stretched lazily, arching her back with a groan.
"Damn, that was good."
Heather lay sprawled on the cold basement floor, her body slick with sweat and trembling from the forced release he had wrung from her. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, every heartbeat an exhausted throb of humiliation.
The bastard inside her wasn’t done.
Her hands—his hands—groped her breasts again, squeezing with possessive delight as he laughed in her mind.
"Fuck, I could get used to this."
Her fingers pinched her nipples hard enough to make her gasp—his pitiless amusement twisting her pleasure into pain. Then they trailed down her stomach again, past her navel, slipping between her thighs.
No wait—
She fought, straining against the cage of her own body, but it was no use. The first brush of fingertips against her clit was a sickening betrayal. Her own flesh pulsed in response, still sensitive from the last assault.
"You really don’t wanna enjoy this, huh?" His voice was a sneer in her skull as he circled that swollen bud, slow and taunting. "Too bad."
Heather clenched her teeth, but a helpless whimper escaped as he sped up, his touch ruthless, degrading.
"Go on, fight it," he mocked. "Bet you’ll still cum like a slut anyway." Tears burned her eyes—but her body, traitorous and weak, arched off the ground as he drove her toward another brutal orgasm.
Her back bowed.
Then—
Release.
A guttural moan tore from her lips—his victory, not hers—as her hips jerked wildly. Slick warmth gushed around his fingers, soaking her thighs, the floor beneath her. Satisfaction oozed through their shared mind like syrup.
"Damn. You’re dripping."
Her hands—his hands—lifted, fingers glistening with her own shame before he licked them clean with her tongue. "Not bad."
Before she could even recover, Heather felt her body stand—his will puppeteering her limbs like a marionette. A deep, rolling laugh bubbled up from her throat as his control forced her into motion.
Hips swaying. Ass twerking.
"Look at you," he crooned, making her slap her own rear with a sharp crack. "Made for this shit."
Humiliation burned through her like acid. She could feel it—the way he relished every second of her degradation, the way he made her body perform like some cheap stripper for his amusement.
Her stomach churned. She wanted to scream.
Then—
A pause.
"Here’s the deal," he mused, halting her gyrating hips and turning her toward the cracked mirror across the room. Heather saw herself—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide in arousal she hadn’t asked for. And then she saw her lips curl into a smirk that wasn’t hers.
"You let me ride this body for a while," he purred, running her hands up her naked sides. "Really enjoy it. And hey—maybe I’ll even make it good for you."
Her fingers tweaked her nipples again, sharp enough to make her gasp.
"Or,"—her head tilted, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper—"I could record a little video of us. Let the whole club see what a desperate little shifter looks like when she cums."
Heather’s blood turned to ice. The footage would spread. She’d never escape it. Her lips moved before she could stop them.
"Fuck. You."
A laugh—dark, amused.
"Oh, sweetheart. I plan to."
Her body moved on its own, grabbing a discarded phone from the dresser.
Camera on.
Recording.
"Say hi to the fellas, Heather."
....
The dim, flickering light of the basement room painted Heather’s sweat-slicked skin in shifting shadows. She lay sprawled on the stained mattress, her body trembling in the aftermath of another brutal climax—one of many forced upon her in what felt like an eternity of humiliation.
The phone propped nearby ticked over to four hours of recording.
Four hours.
Four hours of him using her hands, her mouth, her very soul to wring pleasure from her unwilling body.
Her thighs glistened—slick with arousal he had demanded, trembling from exhaustion.
She wanted to scream. To sob. To kill him. But her body wasn’t hers anymore.
His voice slithered through her mind, dark with amusement. "You were made for this, weren’t you?" Her lips—his to control—twisted into a mocking smirk.
Her fingers—his to command—dragged through the mess between her legs, painting her stomach with glistening streaks.
"Look at you," he purred, forcing her to tilt her hips toward the camera. "Dripping like a fucking fountain."
Heather’s breath hitched.
She hated this.
Hated him.
Hated the way her body betrayed her.
But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t stop. Her fingers circled her clit again, slow, taunting.
She braced herself.
"P-Please..." she gasped—the first word she'd managed in hours.
"Please what?" His laughter was a razor against her mind. "Tell me, Heather. Beg for it." She shut her eyes, breath ragged.
"Stop."
A pause.
Then—
A roar of laughter.
"Oh, I wish you could see yourself right now," he crooned. "So pathetic. So weak."
Her thumb pressed down—hard—and her back arched as another wave of forced pleasure tore through her.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "F-Fuck you..." she choked out. His grin was a razor in her skull.
"Already am."
Then, to her horror, she felt the familiar pull at her bones—the telltale tingle of shifting.
Skin rippled. Muscles tensed. Her own horrified gasp morphed mid-breath into— Someone else’s voice.
"Recognize her?"
The words spilled from lips that weren’t hers—soft, feminine, strange. He forced her body to crawl to the mirror. The reflection wasn’t Heather. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair, pouty lips, a body built for sin. She didn't know her. But he did.
"Jessica," he mused, making her hands skim down her new curves. "Cheer captain. Total bitch. Fucked her brains out the moment I got her alone."
Heather’s stomach turned.
A whimper—Jessica’s whimper—trembled from her throat. Then— Another shift. Hips widened. Breasts swelled.
"Sarah," he purred, running his fingers over thick thighs, a voluptuous frame. "Teacher’s pet. She cried when I took her. Best orgasm of her life."
Shift. A petite redhead.
Shift. A tanned beauty with a dancer’s grace.
His collection.
His trophies.
And now, his to make Heather wear like some sick costume.
Each shift was accompanied by forced touch—his cruel exploration of his conquests, using her body to relive his sick victories.
She wanted to vomit.
Then—suddenly—she was herself again.
Naked.
Exposed.
Trembling.
In her hands was something new—a vibrator, thick and humming with wicked intensity.
"Time for the main event," he murmured. The tip pressed against her wet, quivering pussy. She sucked in a sharp breath— Then screamed as he turned it on full power. The vibrations tore through her, ruthless and unrelenting, her hips jerking uncontrollably against the assault.
"Oh fuck—FUCK!"
Her own cry disgusted her. She hated how good it felt. Hated how her body clenched, greedy and desperate, around nothing. Hated him for making her like it.
"The more you fight, the longer this lasts," he reminded her sweetly. "Just relax, Heather. Enjoy yourself."
She bit her lip until it bled. But her body obeyed him. Spasmed for him. Came for him.
And when the wave crashed over her, when her vision whited out and her scream echoed off the walls— The camera caught it all.
As she lay there, broken and gasping, the final realization settled over her like a shroud.
This place wasn’t just a club. It was a hunting ground. And women like her?
Prey.
The man inside her leaned forward—her lips brushing her own ear in a lover’s whisper.
"Tomorrow night, the boys will love this footage."
The door clicked open.
A familiar voice cut through the haze. "Damn. Looks like you’ve been busy." The ringleader stood in the doorway, eyes gleaming with dark approval.
Heather’s stomach dropped. She was out of time. And there was no escape.
.....
The heavy door clicked shut behind the club’s ringleader, leaving Heather and her possessor alone in the cavernous basement. The air was thick with the musk of sweat and sin, the red lights casting long, leering shadows against the walls.
Heather’s body moved without her consent.
Hips swayed.
Her naked form glistened under the dim glow as the monster inside her forced her into a slow, deliberate shimmy. The sensation of her own body betraying her—fluid and responsive to every cruel command—made her want to scream. She did scream.
"Get OUT of me!" Her voice cracked, strained from hours of forced moans and sobs. The possessor only laughed—a dark, amused sound that rattled through her bones.
"And ruin the fun?" Her own hands slid up her waist, cupping her breasts possessively. "Nah. We’re just getting started." He made her slap her own ass—hard—the sharp crack echoing through the empty club.
"Fuck you!" Heather hissed.
"Oh, sweetheart." Her fingers pinched her nipple, twisting just to hear her gasp. "I fuckinh you right now.."
With a cruel mental tug, he forced her toward the main stage—the same one where they’d displayed caged women like livestock. Her legs moved without hesitation. Then—
She twerked. Hard. Shameless.
Her ass bounced in a way she’d never done in her life—cheeks clapping, her body bending forward until her hands braced against the stage.
"STOP IT!" she roared in her mind.
"Or what?" His voice dripped with condescension as he made her roll her hips, slow and obscene. "You’ll cry more?"
Heather burned with fury. The worst part? She could feel his arousal through the possession—the way her hips gyrating turned him on, his pleasure bleeding into her nerves.
"You sick bastard," she choked out.
"Aw, don’t be like that."
Her fingers trailed down over her stomach.
Then, without warning—
He speared two fingers inside her.
Her back arched violently as he curled them deep, hitting her G-spot with precision. A strangled cry ripped from her throat. "See? Your body loves me," he purred.
"I—I don’t—!"
Words failed as he pumped ruthlessly, his laughter merging with her panting gasps.
She didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. But her body didn’t care. White-hot pleasure coiled tight in her gut—Then snapped.
Her vision whited out as she came hard, her thighs clamping around her own wrist as wave after wave wracked her system.
When she came back to herself—still trembling, still violated—his voice slithered through her mind like oil.
"Y’know, I was gonna make you shift again," he mused, forcing her to collapse onto the stage, spent and sweating. "But damn, your real body? Chef’s kiss."
Her stomach twisted.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Rot in hell."
A chuckle.
Then—her hand groped her breast again.
"Not before I enjoy myself."
Her fingers trailed lower, dragging through the mess he’d made of her, circling her clit with lazy, taunting strokes.
She shuddered, biting back a moan. "Why… are you… still doing this?" she gasped.
"Because I can."
He pinched her clit—hard—and she wailed. "And because," he continued, voice thick with dark promise, "once the boys see how good you are at taking orders?"
His fingers plunged back inside her, forcing another staggered cry. "They’re gonna want you all the time."
A pause.
Then—
"And you’ll have no choice but to obey." Heather’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth— But before she could speak, his control slammed into her like a freight train.
Her back bowed. Her nails scraped the stage. And as another orgasm tore through her— She realized with horrifying clarity:
There was no escape.
....
The red digital clock on the nightstand blinked 4:37 AM as Heather's body twitched through yet another unwanted climax, her thighs glistening under the flickering basement lights. Fourteen hours. Fourteen goddamn hours trapped inside her own flesh while he puppeteered her movements, forced moans from her lips, and wrung orgasm after orgasm from her exhausted form.
"P-please..." Heather whispered through trembling lips, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Just... stop..."
Inside her mind, the possessor chuckled darkly. "Stop? Babygirl, we're just warming up."
Her traitorous hands—his hands now—slid down her sweat-slicked stomach with familiar intent. Heather squeezed her eyes shut, trying to disconnect, to retreat into some corner of her mind where this wasn't happening. But the moment his fingers brushed her oversensitive clit, her spine arched off the mattress with a ragged gasp.
"You—fucking monster—" she choked out, her nails digging into the sheets as electric pleasure-pain lanced through her.
"Ooh, say that again," he purred, circling her swollen nub with merciless precision. "Nothing hotter than hearing you curse while your body begs for it."
Her clit throbbed under his relentless attention, every nerve ending screaming with overstimulation. Heather's breath came in shallow pants as his fingers dipped lower, tracing her soaked entrance before pushing two digits inside without warning.
"Nngh! G-God—!" Her hips jerked helplessly, her inner walls fluttering around the intrusion.
"Look at you," he crooned, pistoning his fingers ruthlessly against that spongy spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. "Dripping like a goddamn faucet. Bet you can't even remember how many times you've come for me, can you?"
Tears spilled down Heather's cheeks as her body betrayed her yet again, her thighs trembling on the edge of another crushing orgasm. "I... I hate you—"
"Uh-huh," he mocked, curling his fingers just so. "Tell me how much you hate me when you scream."
The coil in her stomach snapped.
Heather's back bowed off the bed as the climax ripped through her, a broken wail tearing from her throat as her vision whited out. Her hips stuttered against his hand, her inner walls spasming around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure-pain crashed over her.
When she finally came down, shuddering and gasping, his laughter echoed through her skull.
"Twenty-seven," he announced smugly, withdrawing his glistening fingers and holding them up to her blurry vision. "That's how many times I've made this pretty little pussy cum tonight. Think we can hit thirty before sunrise?"
Heather turned her face into the pillow, her entire body aching, every muscle limp with exhaustion. She wanted to rage. To fight. But fourteen hours of relentless violation had hollowed her out, leaving only a numb shell behind.
Heather collapsed against the sheets, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're... you're sick..."
"And you're delicious," he countered, making her trail a finger through the mess between her thighs before bringing it to her lips. "Taste that? That's what defeat feels like, sweetheart."
Her stomach churned as her tongue licked her own juices away at his command.
"Now..." Her hands slid down her body once more. "Let's see if we can't make you scream one last time before the boys get here."
Heather thrashed weakly as his will overpowered hers yet again. "N-no more... I can't—"
"Oh you can," he whispered, spreading her legs wide. "And you will."
As his fingers found her clit again, as pleasure built like a tidal wave against her will, Heather did the only thing she had left.
She closed her eyes.
And prayed for death.
And cums in her own hands.
...
When she thought everything is wrong she leaves him. However in her way she ended up in the wrong crowd that she's not supposed to get involved with.
I stood in front of the mirror, examining every detail. The curve of her lips, the way her dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders, the faint freckles dotting her nose. Lena. His girlfriend. The woman whose life I was about to borrow for a night.
My skin tingled as I focused, my muscles shifting beneath the surface, bones adjusting with an almost imperceptible crackle. The transformation was always strange—like slipping into a second skin that wasn’t mine. But I’d done this before. Too many times, if I was being honest.
I exhaled, smoothing my hands—no, her hands—down the soft fabric of her favorite jeans and the loose, cream-colored sweater I’d pulled from her closet earlier. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut, but I pushed it down. This was for him. Only for him.
---
The knock on his door made my breath hitch. Three sharp raps, just like Lena always did. I could hear his footsteps inside, the muffled curse of surprise when he saw me through the peephole.
The door swung open, and there he was—Dylan. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his gray T-shirt was wrinkled in that effortlessly perfect way only he could pull off. His eyes widened.
"Lena?" he said, blinking. "I thought you left for your trip?"
I bit her lip the way she always did when she was nervous. "I canceled it," I said, my voice an exact replica of hers—soft, melodic. "I… I just missed you too much."
Dylan stared at me, confusion flickering across his face before dissolving into warmth. He stepped aside. "You’re insane," he murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You were supposed to be gone for a week."
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. The apartment smelled like him—warm, a little musky, with the faintest hint of coffee. Familiar. Safe.
"I changed my mind," I said, brushing past him, my fingers trailing over his arm. "Don’t you want me here?"
His breath caught, and I felt a thrill run through me. This was the game. I knew how Lena touched him, how she spoke to him, how she loved him. And tonight, I’d be better than her.
Dylan’s hands settled on my waist as he turned me toward him, his gaze searching my face. "Of course I want you here," he murmured. "But you never cancel plans. Especially not for me."
I let out a quiet laugh—hers, not mine. "Maybe I’m trying to be different," I said, tilting my head. My fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, letting my touch linger just a little longer than necessary.
He exhaled, the resistance in his shoulders melting under my touch. "You’re gonna make it really hard to focus on the game tonight,” he teased.
"Good," I whispered, leaning in.
Our lips met, and I forced myself to lose in the rhythm of her. The way she kissed—gentle at first, then hungrier. Dylan responded instantly, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
I hated this. Every second of it. The press of his mouth, the warmth of his hands sliding up my back, the insistence of his body against mine. But he loved it. And that was all that mattered.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, he grinned. "Damn. If this is what happens when you cancel trips, I might have to start sabotaging your suitcase."
I laughed—the sound perfectly hers, perfectly convincing—and let him lead me toward the couch, where I knew the night would only grow more intimate.
And as much as it twisted something inside me, I’d keep pretending. Because seeing him happy, seeing him hers, was all I ever wanted—even if it meant I’d never really be the one he loved.
....
The sun was setting as I sat cross-legged on the floor of my apartment, surrounded by layers of clothing heaped in disarray—her wardrobe, meticulously recreated down to the last stitch. I had spent months watching her, memorizing the way she moved, the way she spoke, even the way she laughed—soft and breathy, as if she were constantly on the verge of a secret.
It wasn’t just her face I had to mimic. It was her soul.
A knock at the door startled me.
Shifting back to myself had always felt like shedding a second skin—my body reforming into my natural curves, my dark curls springing free. I yanked open the door to find my neighbor, Mrs. Langley, standing there with a suspicious squint.
"Heather, you alright in there? Hearin’ all sorts of rustlin’."
I forced a smile. "Just reorganizing, mom. You know how it is."
She hummed, unconvinced, but shuffled off with a grumble.
Heather. That was the name I had given myself when I moved here. Safe. Unassuming. Not the girl who could become anyone else.
I smoothed my hands down my sides, swallowed hard, and closed my eyes. The shift came easier now, like shrugging into a familiar coat. My skin tingled, warming as muscle and bone reordered beneath it. My fingers lengthened, my hips softened, my nose reshaped into the delicate upturn of myself again.
When I opened my eyes again, I become myself again stared back at me from the mirror.
Heather had always been strategic with her ability. She never used it frivolously—only when an opportunity was too tempting to ignore. But this wasn’t just any opportunity. This was Dylan. The man who had consumed her thoughts for years, with his easy laughter and the way his dark eyes crinkled when he smiled. For so long, she had watched from afar, aching for something she could never truly have—until now.
Lena, his girlfriend, was away on a two-week business trip, leaving Dylan alone in their shared apartment. Heather had waited until nightfall, lingering outside until she saw the lights flick off in the bedroom window. Then, with a deep breath, she shifted.
It started at the base of her spine, a slow unspooling warmth that traveled through her limbs, her skin prickling as it stretched and reshaped itself into Lena’s softer curves. Her cheekbones lifted, her hips rounded, her fingers thinned—every detail mattered. She even adjusted her gait, matching Lena’s light, precise steps as she crossed the street.
The key under the flowerpot was still there, just as Lena had mentioned to a friend weeks ago. Heather’s heart hammered against her ribs as she turned it in the lock.
The apartment was quiet, lit only by the blue glow of the television. Dylan was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, his bare chest rising and falling in slow rhythm.
And that's how it started...
....
The next few hours were a blur of tangled limbs, whispered words, and the kind of intimacy Heather had only ever dreamed of. She hated the way her stomach twisted with guilt, hated the way her own pleasure was tangled up in the lie—but god, the way he touched her. The way he whispered Lena’s name against her skin.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and she fell asleep curled against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
When Heather woke, sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the tangled sheets. She shifted slightly—and froze.
Her own hands.
She bolted upright, panic searing through her veins. No, no, no— She had shifted back in her sleep. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, her own familiar frame unmistakable.
Dylan stirred beside her, still deep in sleep, one arm slung lazily over the empty space where Lena should have been.
Heather scrambled out of bed, her pulse hammering. If he woke up now—if he saw her—
She clenched her fists, focusing, and felt the shift ripple over her again. The relief was instant as Lena’s features returned, but the terror lingered. She couldn’t stay.
Moving fast, she gathered her scattered clothes, dressed in silence, and scribbled a note in Lena’s looping handwriting:
"Had to leave early—miss you already. Call you tonight."
She placed it on the pillow beside Dylan’s head, stealing one last glance at him before slipping out the door.
....
A diner a few blocks away provided temporary refuge. Heather slid into a corner booth, her hands trembling around a steaming mug of coffee. The reality of what she’d done settled heavy in her chest.
This wasn’t like her other little games—posing as a stranger for an hour, mimicking a co-worker to avoid confrontation. This was Dylan. And she had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.
But even as guilt gnawed at her, another thought slithered in:
Dylan had wanted her.
Or at least, he had wanted the version of her she had given him. She took a slow sip of coffee, her reflection staring back at her in warped distortion against the diner window.
What happens when Lena comes home?
And worse.
What happens if Dylan wants her to stay?
The diner’s bell jingled as Heather pushed through the door, the cold evening air biting at her skin. She pulled her jacket tighter, her thoughts still tangled with the weight of what she had done with Dylan. The coffee had done little to calm her nerves.
She turned down a dimly lit side street, the glow of streetlights flickering against the damp pavement. That’s when she saw them—a group of men, moving in hushed murmurs toward a narrow alley tucked between two weathered brick buildings.
Something about their demeanor set off a warning in the back of her mind. Shoulders hunched, collars pulled up, quick glances over their shoulders as if checking for pursuers.
This isn’t right.
Heather hesitated at the mouth of the alley, her pulse quickening. She should walk away. She should call the cops and let them handle it.
But curiosity was always her downfall.
She slipped into the shadows, pressing close to the wall as she followed them deeper into the alley, her footsteps silent against the cracked concrete. They stopped in front of a rusted metal door half-hidden under peeling graffiti. Above it, a dull red sign flickered:
MALES ONLY.
A muscle in Heather’s jaw twitched. Of course.
The men rapped a quick pattern on the door—three knocks, a pause, then two more. It creaked open, spilling a sliver of neon light onto the ground before swallowing them whole.
The door thudded shut behind them. Locked.
Heather exhaled sharply, weighing her options.
If this was some kind of underground smuggling ring, she should report it. But what if it was just some stupid exclusive party? A gathering for rich, obnoxious dudes who liked to pretend they were part of some secret society?
Her lips curled. Either way, she was getting in.
She ducked behind a dumpster, pulling in a slow breath. Shift or stay?
Shift.
She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar hum beneath her skin as bones realigned, muscles thickened, shoulders broadened. When she blinked, her reflection in a nearby puddle showed Dylan’s sharp jawline, his tousled dark hair—his face.
Good enough.
Approaching the door, she lifted her hand and mimicked the knock—three, pause, two.
A slot scraped open at eye level, revealing a pair of narrowed, shadowed eyes.
“Password?” the voice grunted.
Heather’s stomach plummeted. Shit.
She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Forcing Dylan’s easy confidence, she smirked. “C’mon, man. I just stepped out for a smoke. You really gonna make me say it again?”
Silence. Then—
The door swung open.
The bass hit her first—deep, throbbing, rattling up through the floorboards. Dim red lights pulsed in time with the music, casting long shadows over the crowded room. Men packed the space, some in sleek suits, others in leather jackets, all of them holding glasses of liquor that gleamed like liquid amber.
But it wasn’t just a party.
Against the far wall stood a row of cages—and inside them, women.
Heather’s breath stopped.
The air inside the basement was thick with sweat and the cloying scent of whiskey and arousal. Heather—still wearing Dylan’s form—stood frozen, her stomach churning as she took in the surreal horror unfolding around her.
Possession Club. It said on the screen.
There are women in cages weren’t just captives.
They were hosts.
The man on the stage, slick-haired and grinning like a carnival barker, gestured toward the cages with a flourish. "Another successful week for our members! Fifty-four possessions total—twenty sexual engagements, thirty-two solo performances, and even two lovely ladies who grew very familiar with each other!" The men around Heather erupted in laughter and cheers, raising their glasses.
Then the speaker’s eyes flicked to a woman crouched at the edge of the stage, her green bikini damp between her thighs as her fingers worked furiously at her own pussy. She didn’t seem to care that everyone was staring—her moans were loud, shameless, her hips bucking as she came right there in front of them.
"Ah, Sarah," the man on stage chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Still can’t control herself, I see."
Pulling her fingers free with a slick pop, the woman—Sarah—giggled, bouncing her breasts as she blew him a kiss. "Sorry~" she panted, not sounding sorry at all. "You know how pent-up I get when I’m not being used."
It was like watching a pornographic nightmare.
Heather’s skin crawled.
Suddenly, a mechanical groan filled the room as the speaker pulled a lever on the wall. The brick facade behind him split open, revealing a long hallway lined with glass rooms—each containing a different woman. Some writhed on beds, touching themselves. Others knelt obediently, waiting.
"Bookings are now open!" the man announced, waving a stack of plastic keycards. "Members with prior reservations, you know the drill. Newcomers—get your cards at the desk and pick your poison!"
The crowd surged forward, men jostling each other as they lined up to claim their "slots." Heather stumbled back, bumping into someone.
"Easy there, pal," a beefy guy in a leather vest drawled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "First time? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
Before Heather could respond, a commotion near the hallway entrance caught her attention. A wiry man in glasses downed a small pill, grinning as two burly men dragged a struggling woman toward him.
"P-Please, no! I don’t—I don’t want this!" the woman sobbed, kicking wildly. Heather’s fists clenched.
Then it happened.
The man in glasses shuddered—his form flickering like a TV with bad reception—before his entire body seemed to dissolve into mist. The smoky tendrils coiled through the air before plunging straight into the screaming woman’s mouth.
Her body convulsed.
Shaking. Twitching. Legs kicking as her back arched violently—
—and then, stillness.
Her eyes snapped open.
Glowing.
Slowly, a lazy, entirely male smirk spread across her lips. She—he—lifted a hand and groped her breast, squeezing hard with a chuckle. "Damn, this body is tight."
The crowd roared in approval. Heather was going to be sick. She turned and shoved her way toward the exit, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
They’re not just imprisoning women.
They’re stealing them.
And now, disguised as Dylan, she was trapped in a room full of monsters—with no idea how to get out.
The crowd pressed in around Heather like a living, breathing wall—hot, suffocating, reeking of alcohol and sweat. She shoved through, her shoulder knocking against a man’s chest, her elbow jostling another’s drink. Apologies died in her throat. She needed to get out.
But fate had other plans.
Her foot caught on something—a loose floorboard, someone’s outstretched leg—and she lurched forward, crashing straight into the man who had been on stage.
He steadied her with a grip like iron, his slick grin never faltering. Up close, his eyes were dark, calculating, the kind of gaze that peeled back layers without permission.
"Well, well," he purred, tilting his head. "Don’t recognize you. You new?"
Heather’s pulse hammered in her throat. She forced Dylan’s voice—low.. "Nah, just… been a while."
The man laughed, fingers tightening on her shoulder in a mock-friendly squeeze. "Bullshit. You’ve got that deer-in-headlights look all the newbies get." He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Relax. You’re among friends here."
Friends.
The word curdled in her gut as her gaze flicked past him—to the glass rooms where women lay sprawled, their bodies puppeteered by unseen invaders.
The man—the ringleader—stepped back, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to the club, brother. This is a sacred space. A place where men like us don’t just take pleasure…" His grin turned feral. "We become it."
He clapped her on the back like they were old pals. Heather’s skin crawled.
"Rules are simple," he continued, steering her toward the bar despite her stiff resistance. "What happens here stays here. If some nosy bitch catches wind and tries to run to the cops?" He chuckled, pouring a glass of amber liquor and sliding it toward her. "We reward her. Give her the ride of her life—permanently."
The threat hung in the air, thick as the bass vibrating through the floor.
Heather swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the glass. She needed to leave. Now.
"I, uh—I actually gotta bounce," she muttered, setting the drink down untouched. "Forgot I got shit to do—"
The ringleader’s hand clamped down on her wrist. "Nonsense." His smile never wavered, but his eyes turned glacial. "You just got here. And I insist you try before you go."
From his pocket, he produced a small vial—inside, tiny pills shimmered like crushed pearls.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
Possession pills.
"Go on," he urged, shaking one into her palm. "First one’s free."
The pill sat there, innocuous, deadly. Around her, the club pulsed with grotesque energy—men laughing, women moaning, bodies moving in ways that weren’t theirs.
She was outnumbered.
Outmatched.
And if she didn’t play along—she’d never make it out alive.
Heather’s fingers trembled around the pill, her mind racing for an escape. The dim, flickering lights of the private room made everything feel surreal—like she was trapped in some grotesque nightmare. The girl on the bed continued to writhe, her legs spread obscenely wide as she gazed at them with heavy-lidded eyes.
The ringleader smirked at Heather’s hesitation. "First-timer jitters. I get it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the girl. "Meet your instructor. Well, not really—the guy inside her is."
Heather’s jaw clenched. The way he spoke about it so casually, as if this were some kind of twisted mentorship program, made her skin crawl.
The girl on the bed giggled—inhumanly deep, wrong. Then, in a voice that didn’t match her delicate frame, she spoke. "Sup, newbie."
A shudder raced down Heather’s spine.
The ringleader smirked. "This fucker’s got the highest possession count in the club. Every girl in his school, every teacher, his best friend’s mom—name it, he’s been inside." He clapped Heather hard on the back. "He’s gonna show you the ropes."
With that, he turned and left, the lock clicking ominously behind him.
The moment the door sealed, the girl on the bed convulsed, her back arching as a thick, smokey mist forced itself out of her mouth. The specter lingered in the air for a second before condensing back into human form—a lanky, smirking guy in his early twenties, wearing a cocky grin that made Heather’s fists itch.
The girl collapsed onto the bed, gasping, her eyes wide and dazed. "W-Where…?" She clutched the sheets, disoriented.
He ignored her, stepping toward Heather—Dylan’s form—with an assessing gaze. "Alright, Dylan. Let’s get you started."
Heather forced Dylan’s voice, trying to steady it. "How… does this even work?"
The possessor smirked, plucking the pill from her palm and holding it up between two fingers. "Pop one of these, and boom—you’re a ghost. You can slip into any chick you want. No resistance, no fighting back. Just pure control." His grin widened. "But here’s the catch."
He tossed the pill back into her hand. "One pill lasts 24 hours. If you don’t take another before time runs out? Congrats—you’re stuck forever. No refunds."
A cold sweat broke out on the back of Heather’s neck.
The girl on the bed whimpered, trying to scoot back. "P-Please… just let me go…"
The possessor didn’t even glance at her. "Lesson one: Don’t get attached. They’re just shells. Our shells."
His fingers flicked out, snatching the pill back from Heather. Before she could react, he shoved it into the girl’s mouth, clamping his hand over her lips until she choked it down.
Then, like smoke through a crack, his body dissolved, swirling violently before surging back into her.
The girl’s body jerked, her pupils dilating unnaturally as his voice slithered out of her lips.
"Now," he purred, running a hand up her thigh, "let’s practice."
Horror coiled in Heather’s gut.
She had to get out.
Before she became the lesson.
"I'm not doing this," Heather growled, her voice trembling as she took a step back.
The girl's face—possessed by that leering bastard—twisted in confusion. "What the hell do you mean, no?" The throaty, masculine chuckle that slithered out of her delicate lips sent a wave of revulsion through Heather. "Dude, that's why you're here, ain't it?"
Heather's fists clenched at her sides, Dylan's borrowed body tense with barely restrained panic. "I changed my mind. I'm out."
She spun toward the locked door, desperation burning in her veins. The metallic click of the latch mocked her—no way out without a key. Her lungs tightened. Think, think, think—
A hand seized her wrist, yanking her backward. "Oh, hell no. You ain't goin' anywhere."
Heather twisted, wrenching free. "Get off—"
Her feet caught on the edge of the bed’s tangled sheets.
Time slowed.
She flailed, but gravity won.
Her temple slammed into the dresser’s sharp corner—a white-hot crack of pain—and then—
—everything unraveled.
A sickening warmth pooled beneath her skin, muscles writhing as bones snapped back into place. Curves reemerged. Height dissolved. Dylan’s broad shoulders melted into her own slender frame, his clothes suddenly baggy, drowning her.
The world swayed as she slumped to her knees, blinking through the haze.
She was herself again.
The girl on the bed—no, the man inside her—gaped. "What the—?"
Heather’s stomach plummeted.
No.
She reached up, fingers grazing the familiar shape of her own face—soft cheeks, full lips, her hair. Dylan’s borrowed form was gone.
The possessed girl’s expression morphed from shock to greedy fascination. A slow, vile grin split her face. "Well, well. A shapeshifter." He let out a low whistle. "Now that’s a rarity."
Heather scrambled back, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Stay away from me."
The girl—no, the thing wearing her—laughed, crawling off the bed in a way too predatory to be human. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you just became the main attraction."
The door rattled—the sound of a key turning.
Heather’s blood turned to ice.
The lock clicked.
The pounding on the door was relentless.
"Yo, everything alright in there? Sounded like a damn fight!"
Inside the dimly lit room, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and something metallic—fear, desperation, the charged energy of a predator circling its prey.
The girl’s body—possessed by the grinning bastard who now knew Heather’s secret—rolled her eyes and called back, voice slick with amusement.
"Relax, man, just having too much fun in here!"
The lie dripped with the confidence of someone used to getting his way. The muffled chuckle from the other side of the door confirmed they bought it. Footsteps receded, leaving Heather alone with the monster standing between her and escape.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She was trapped.
Worse—she’d given herself away.
The man inside the girl cocked his head, eyes glinting in the dim light as he raked his gaze over Heather’s trembling form.
"You know," he mused, stepping closer, "I’ve seen some crazy shit in this club, but a shapeshifter? That’s a first." He grinned. "And damn if you don’t have a fine body to go with it."
Heather’s back hit the wall. Cold brick bit into her skin through own too-big shirt. She had no weapons. No backup.
And he knew exactly what she was.
The possessed girl stretched, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off a cramp. "Alright, here’s how this is gonna go." She—he—ticked the points off on delicate fingers:
1. "You don’t scream."
2. "You don’t fight."
3. "And maybe, just maybe, I don’t tell the guys outside you’re a walking, talking party trick they can all take for a spin."
He stepped closer, close enough that Heather could see the unnatural gleam in the girl’s eyes—too sharp, too male for the soft features they were trapped in.
"What do you say, shapeshifter girl? Deal?"
Heather spat in his face.
The girl’s head snapped back—but then the laugh came, low and dark. A slow swipe of her thumb wiped the saliva away, and when those eyes locked onto Heather again, they were hungry.
"Should’ve taken the deal."
Then— A gasp. A shudder.
The girl’s body convulsed, back arching violently as a thick, black mist spewed from her lips. It coiled in the air like smoke, twisting, seething— And then it lunged for Heather.
Cold.
That was her first thought.
It felt like drowning in ice water, like freezing fingers clawing down her throat, filling her lungs, her veins, her bones. Heather gagged, her body buckling under the invasion. Her vision swam—blurred—
And then came the pressure.
Pushing. Squeezing.
Something inside her screamed as the man’s presence forced its way in, tendrils of his will latching onto her nerves, her muscles, her thoughts— Heather’s fists clenched, nails biting into her palms.
*Get. Out.*
Her lips moved, words trembling. "You... can’t... have me." A scoff echoed in her skull—his voice, smug and condescending.
"Oh sweetheart, I already do."
And then— *Pain.*
Her right hand moved on its own, jerking up to claw at her own throat. Heather choked. Stop it—STOP IT— Her traitorous fingers tightened. Dark spots danced in her vision. Laughter, thick and cruel, vibrated through her bones.
"Fight all you want." A phantom tongue licked her lips from the inside. "But this body’s mine now."
Heather collapsed to her knees, gasping. It was like being locked in a glass box inside her own head—able to see, to feel, but powerless to stop what came next. Her hands lifted—not hers, his—and skimmed up her sides, groping, squeezing, testing.
"Damn, you weren’t kidding about this body." He cupped her breasts through the fabric, thumbs rolling her nipples until they pebbled tight. A groan rattled through her throat—his pleasure, not hers.
Tears burned her eyes as her own fingers hooked into the collar of Dylan’s shirt and yanked. Buttons popped, clattering to the floor. Cool air kissed her exposed skin.
"Yeah... that’s better."
Hands—her hands—palmed her bare tits, kneading with rough appreciation. "Fuck, these are perfect." His laughter slithered under her skin. "Bet you’ve made guys lose their minds with these, huh?"
Heather squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Then—
Her fingers trailed lower. Over her stomach.
Down, down—
She thrashed internally, screaming, pleading, but it was no use. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. And when her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, when they found the slick heat between her legs—
It was his voice that moaned.
It was his will that made her cum.
That was the first sound—ragged, satisfied breaths filling the silence of the room. Heather’s body slumped against the wall, spent, trembling. The man inside her stretched lazily, arching her back with a groan.
"Damn, that was good."
Heather lay sprawled on the cold basement floor, her body slick with sweat and trembling from the forced release he had wrung from her. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, every heartbeat an exhausted throb of humiliation.
The bastard inside her wasn’t done.
Her hands—his hands—groped her breasts again, squeezing with possessive delight as he laughed in her mind.
"Fuck, I could get used to this."
Her fingers pinched her nipples hard enough to make her gasp—his pitiless amusement twisting her pleasure into pain. Then they trailed down her stomach again, past her navel, slipping between her thighs.
No wait—
She fought, straining against the cage of her own body, but it was no use. The first brush of fingertips against her clit was a sickening betrayal. Her own flesh pulsed in response, still sensitive from the last assault.
"You really don’t wanna enjoy this, huh?" His voice was a sneer in her skull as he circled that swollen bud, slow and taunting. "Too bad."
Heather clenched her teeth, but a helpless whimper escaped as he sped up, his touch ruthless, degrading.
"Go on, fight it," he mocked. "Bet you’ll still cum like a slut anyway." Tears burned her eyes—but her body, traitorous and weak, arched off the ground as he drove her toward another brutal orgasm.
Her back bowed.
Then—
Release.
A guttural moan tore from her lips—his victory, not hers—as her hips jerked wildly. Slick warmth gushed around his fingers, soaking her thighs, the floor beneath her. Satisfaction oozed through their shared mind like syrup.
"Damn. You’re dripping."
Her hands—his hands—lifted, fingers glistening with her own shame before he licked them clean with her tongue. "Not bad."
Before she could even recover, Heather felt her body stand—his will puppeteering her limbs like a marionette. A deep, rolling laugh bubbled up from her throat as his control forced her into motion.
Hips swaying. Ass twerking.
"Look at you," he crooned, making her slap her own rear with a sharp crack. "Made for this shit."
Humiliation burned through her like acid. She could feel it—the way he relished every second of her degradation, the way he made her body perform like some cheap stripper for his amusement.
Her stomach churned. She wanted to scream.
Then—
A pause.
"Here’s the deal," he mused, halting her gyrating hips and turning her toward the cracked mirror across the room. Heather saw herself—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide in arousal she hadn’t asked for. And then she saw her lips curl into a smirk that wasn’t hers.
"You let me ride this body for a while," he purred, running her hands up her naked sides. "Really enjoy it. And hey—maybe I’ll even make it good for you."
Her fingers tweaked her nipples again, sharp enough to make her gasp.
"Or,"—her head tilted, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper—"I could record a little video of us. Let the whole club see what a desperate little shifter looks like when she cums."
Heather’s blood turned to ice. The footage would spread. She’d never escape it. Her lips moved before she could stop them.
"Fuck. You."
A laugh—dark, amused.
"Oh, sweetheart. I plan to."
Her body moved on its own, grabbing a discarded phone from the dresser.
Camera on.
Recording.
"Say hi to the fellas, Heather."
....
The dim, flickering light of the basement room painted Heather’s sweat-slicked skin in shifting shadows. She lay sprawled on the stained mattress, her body trembling in the aftermath of another brutal climax—one of many forced upon her in what felt like an eternity of humiliation.
The phone propped nearby ticked over to four hours of recording.
Four hours.
Four hours of him using her hands, her mouth, her very soul to wring pleasure from her unwilling body.
Her thighs glistened—slick with arousal he had demanded, trembling from exhaustion.
She wanted to scream. To sob. To kill him. But her body wasn’t hers anymore.
His voice slithered through her mind, dark with amusement. "You were made for this, weren’t you?" Her lips—his to control—twisted into a mocking smirk.
Her fingers—his to command—dragged through the mess between her legs, painting her stomach with glistening streaks.
"Look at you," he purred, forcing her to tilt her hips toward the camera. "Dripping like a fucking fountain."
Heather’s breath hitched.
She hated this.
Hated him.
Hated the way her body betrayed her.
But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t stop. Her fingers circled her clit again, slow, taunting.
She braced herself.
"P-Please..." she gasped—the first word she'd managed in hours.
"Please what?" His laughter was a razor against her mind. "Tell me, Heather. Beg for it." She shut her eyes, breath ragged.
"Stop."
A pause.
Then—
A roar of laughter.
"Oh, I wish you could see yourself right now," he crooned. "So pathetic. So weak."
Her thumb pressed down—hard—and her back arched as another wave of forced pleasure tore through her.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "F-Fuck you..." she choked out. His grin was a razor in her skull.
"Already am."
Then, to her horror, she felt the familiar pull at her bones—the telltale tingle of shifting.
Skin rippled. Muscles tensed. Her own horrified gasp morphed mid-breath into— Someone else’s voice.
"Recognize her?"
The words spilled from lips that weren’t hers—soft, feminine, strange. He forced her body to crawl to the mirror. The reflection wasn’t Heather. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair, pouty lips, a body built for sin. She didn't know her. But he did.
"Jessica," he mused, making her hands skim down her new curves. "Cheer captain. Total bitch. Fucked her brains out the moment I got her alone."
Heather’s stomach turned.
A whimper—Jessica’s whimper—trembled from her throat. Then— Another shift. Hips widened. Breasts swelled.
"Sarah," he purred, running his fingers over thick thighs, a voluptuous frame. "Teacher’s pet. She cried when I took her. Best orgasm of her life."
Shift. A petite redhead.
Shift. A tanned beauty with a dancer’s grace.
His collection.
His trophies.
And now, his to make Heather wear like some sick costume.
Each shift was accompanied by forced touch—his cruel exploration of his conquests, using her body to relive his sick victories.
She wanted to vomit.
Then—suddenly—she was herself again.
Naked.
Exposed.
Trembling.
In her hands was something new—a vibrator, thick and humming with wicked intensity.
"Time for the main event," he murmured. The tip pressed against her wet, quivering pussy. She sucked in a sharp breath— Then screamed as he turned it on full power. The vibrations tore through her, ruthless and unrelenting, her hips jerking uncontrollably against the assault.
"Oh fuck—FUCK!"
Her own cry disgusted her. She hated how good it felt. Hated how her body clenched, greedy and desperate, around nothing. Hated him for making her like it.
"The more you fight, the longer this lasts," he reminded her sweetly. "Just relax, Heather. Enjoy yourself."
She bit her lip until it bled. But her body obeyed him. Spasmed for him. Came for him.
And when the wave crashed over her, when her vision whited out and her scream echoed off the walls— The camera caught it all.
As she lay there, broken and gasping, the final realization settled over her like a shroud.
This place wasn’t just a club. It was a hunting ground. And women like her?
Prey.
The man inside her leaned forward—her lips brushing her own ear in a lover’s whisper.
"Tomorrow night, the boys will love this footage."
The door clicked open.
A familiar voice cut through the haze. "Damn. Looks like you’ve been busy." The ringleader stood in the doorway, eyes gleaming with dark approval.
Heather’s stomach dropped. She was out of time. And there was no escape.
.....
The heavy door clicked shut behind the club’s ringleader, leaving Heather and her possessor alone in the cavernous basement. The air was thick with the musk of sweat and sin, the red lights casting long, leering shadows against the walls.
Heather’s body moved without her consent.
Hips swayed.
Her naked form glistened under the dim glow as the monster inside her forced her into a slow, deliberate shimmy. The sensation of her own body betraying her—fluid and responsive to every cruel command—made her want to scream. She did scream.
"Get OUT of me!" Her voice cracked, strained from hours of forced moans and sobs. The possessor only laughed—a dark, amused sound that rattled through her bones.
"And ruin the fun?" Her own hands slid up her waist, cupping her breasts possessively. "Nah. We’re just getting started." He made her slap her own ass—hard—the sharp crack echoing through the empty club.
"Fuck you!" Heather hissed.
"Oh, sweetheart." Her fingers pinched her nipple, twisting just to hear her gasp. "I fuckinh you right now.."
With a cruel mental tug, he forced her toward the main stage—the same one where they’d displayed caged women like livestock. Her legs moved without hesitation. Then—
She twerked. Hard. Shameless.
Her ass bounced in a way she’d never done in her life—cheeks clapping, her body bending forward until her hands braced against the stage.
"STOP IT!" she roared in her mind.
"Or what?" His voice dripped with condescension as he made her roll her hips, slow and obscene. "You’ll cry more?"
Heather burned with fury. The worst part? She could feel his arousal through the possession—the way her hips gyrating turned him on, his pleasure bleeding into her nerves.
"You sick bastard," she choked out.
"Aw, don’t be like that."
Her fingers trailed down over her stomach.
Then, without warning—
He speared two fingers inside her.
Her back arched violently as he curled them deep, hitting her G-spot with precision. A strangled cry ripped from her throat. "See? Your body loves me," he purred.
"I—I don’t—!"
Words failed as he pumped ruthlessly, his laughter merging with her panting gasps.
She didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. But her body didn’t care. White-hot pleasure coiled tight in her gut—Then snapped.
Her vision whited out as she came hard, her thighs clamping around her own wrist as wave after wave wracked her system.
When she came back to herself—still trembling, still violated—his voice slithered through her mind like oil.
"Y’know, I was gonna make you shift again," he mused, forcing her to collapse onto the stage, spent and sweating. "But damn, your real body? Chef’s kiss."
Her stomach twisted.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Rot in hell."
A chuckle.
Then—her hand groped her breast again.
"Not before I enjoy myself."
Her fingers trailed lower, dragging through the mess he’d made of her, circling her clit with lazy, taunting strokes.
She shuddered, biting back a moan. "Why… are you… still doing this?" she gasped.
"Because I can."
He pinched her clit—hard—and she wailed. "And because," he continued, voice thick with dark promise, "once the boys see how good you are at taking orders?"
His fingers plunged back inside her, forcing another staggered cry. "They’re gonna want you all the time."
A pause.
Then—
"And you’ll have no choice but to obey." Heather’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth— But before she could speak, his control slammed into her like a freight train.
Her back bowed. Her nails scraped the stage. And as another orgasm tore through her— She realized with horrifying clarity:
There was no escape.
....
The red digital clock on the nightstand blinked 4:37 AM as Heather's body twitched through yet another unwanted climax, her thighs glistening under the flickering basement lights. Fourteen hours. Fourteen goddamn hours trapped inside her own flesh while he puppeteered her movements, forced moans from her lips, and wrung orgasm after orgasm from her exhausted form.
"P-please..." Heather whispered through trembling lips, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Just... stop..."
Inside her mind, the possessor chuckled darkly. "Stop? Babygirl, we're just warming up."
Her traitorous hands—his hands now—slid down her sweat-slicked stomach with familiar intent. Heather squeezed her eyes shut, trying to disconnect, to retreat into some corner of her mind where this wasn't happening. But the moment his fingers brushed her oversensitive clit, her spine arched off the mattress with a ragged gasp.
"You—fucking monster—" she choked out, her nails digging into the sheets as electric pleasure-pain lanced through her.
"Ooh, say that again," he purred, circling her swollen nub with merciless precision. "Nothing hotter than hearing you curse while your body begs for it."
Her clit throbbed under his relentless attention, every nerve ending screaming with overstimulation. Heather's breath came in shallow pants as his fingers dipped lower, tracing her soaked entrance before pushing two digits inside without warning.
"Nngh! G-God—!" Her hips jerked helplessly, her inner walls fluttering around the intrusion.
"Look at you," he crooned, pistoning his fingers ruthlessly against that spongy spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. "Dripping like a goddamn faucet. Bet you can't even remember how many times you've come for me, can you?"
Tears spilled down Heather's cheeks as her body betrayed her yet again, her thighs trembling on the edge of another crushing orgasm. "I... I hate you—"
"Uh-huh," he mocked, curling his fingers just so. "Tell me how much you hate me when you scream."
The coil in her stomach snapped.
Heather's back bowed off the bed as the climax ripped through her, a broken wail tearing from her throat as her vision whited out. Her hips stuttered against his hand, her inner walls spasming around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure-pain crashed over her.
When she finally came down, shuddering and gasping, his laughter echoed through her skull.
"Twenty-seven," he announced smugly, withdrawing his glistening fingers and holding them up to her blurry vision. "That's how many times I've made this pretty little pussy cum tonight. Think we can hit thirty before sunrise?"
Heather turned her face into the pillow, her entire body aching, every muscle limp with exhaustion. She wanted to rage. To fight. But fourteen hours of relentless violation had hollowed her out, leaving only a numb shell behind.
Heather collapsed against the sheets, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're... you're sick..."
"And you're delicious," he countered, making her trail a finger through the mess between her thighs before bringing it to her lips. "Taste that? That's what defeat feels like, sweetheart."
Her stomach churned as her tongue licked her own juices away at his command.
"Now..." Her hands slid down her body once more. "Let's see if we can't make you scream one last time before the boys get here."
Heather thrashed weakly as his will overpowered hers yet again. "N-no more... I can't—"
"Oh you can," he whispered, spreading her legs wide. "And you will."
As his fingers found her clit again, as pleasure built like a tidal wave against her will, Heather did the only thing she had left.
She closed her eyes.
And prayed for death.
And cums in her own hands.
...
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This Shudder one shot takes place between Shudder: The College Years and The Last Shapeshifter. I have tried to write all but the epilogue in a way that if you haven't read those you'll be able to understand what's going on.
It was Richard Johnson’s birthday, and he was a man on a mission. He was going to pick up a beautiful woman in a hotel bar using only his appearance and charm. He hadn’t needed to rely on those attributes in a very long time, but still managed to have a different woman in his bed every night. That was one of the perks to being married to a bodyhopper.
For the ten years that she’d been a bodyhopper, Nancy Johnson loved bringing home women that would entice her husband to fuck her senseless. If a pretty cashier caught his eye, or the cute teller at the bank, or a seductive college cheerleader, or one of the many local milfs, Nancy would make sure each of their bodies spent some very intimate time with her man. She’d even gone on a few trips to bring in some celebrities that he’d crushed on forever.
Nancy became bodyhopper during an experiment run by her twin children, Derek and Aubrey. They’d used an electrical charge to spark a gene inside of her. They knew it was there, because it ran in their family. Once activated, she gained the ability to pass her soul from one body to the next. In doing so, she gained access to that person’s mind and could pass for them with the greatest of ease. She had used it to seduce her husband, and eventually persuaded him to leave her aging body behind.
The couple were still very much in love, and when Nancy wasn’t fucking her husband’s brains out in a body typically younger than her previous one, they were enjoying hobbies and conversations that were akin to people who had been together for many years. They didn’t go out on many dates though since Nancy was usually in the body of a woman in her 20’s that could have been Richard’s granddaughter. It was here that the trouble started.
A week ago Nancy had gently teased her husband while in the guise of a cute, blonde 21 year old. She told him he’d never be able to pick up someone like her in real life because of the age gap. She thought it would turn him on. One of his favorite things was when she brought home a young woman and began calling him ‘Daddy.’ Perhaps because his 55th birthday was a week away, or the fact that they could no longer grow old together, he took it poorly.
“Age is just a number,” he snapped back. “I could go into a bar, any bar, and have a woman on my arm by the end of the night.”
Nancy had then made the catastrophic mistake of laughing at this remark. The idea of her husband with his wrinkles and gray hair going to a club and using his cheesy lines on a woman to take her back home was honestly absurd to her.
Richard’s pride took a hit, and he went to sleep on the couch that night, and no amount of cajoling or seduction could get him to return. This was also a blow to Nancy, because a bodyhopper continually craved sex. It seemed to be part of the gene. In instances like these, she’d had to seek other options. In that case, she’d taken the blonde home and fucked her boyfriend.
Nancy fucked a lot of boyfriends and husbands when she inevitably returned a host body. Richard knew this of these indiscretions, but also knew that as horny as he often was, his wife had an itch that he couldn’t always scratch, especially as he got older. He’d never resented her for it, because he’d been around a few bodyhoppers the last decade. Derek was one, and like Nancy, no longer had a body of his own. Aubrey was too, but had to keep her body hooked up to life support if she ever hopped someone.
Then there was the third bodyhopper they all knew. The one who had passed the gene on to so many people over the last few centuries. His name was Nevyn, and he’d almost ruined all of their lives.
Nevyn had possessed Nancy for a few months long ago, living with the Johnsons and teasing Derek relentlessly. But after Nevyn lost his bodyhopping power and became stuck in Derek’s body, he’d briefly aligned himself with the Johnsons in the pursuit of getting Derek his body back. They’d studied the gene and made several breakthroughs, and somewhere during this process, Nevyn felt sidelined, and eventually betrayed. He used what he knew to get his powers back by himself, which led to a close friend of the Johnsons named Bekka to lose her life, although the twins often spoke of her like she was still alive.
Nevyn’s actions spurred the twins along two different paths that ran parallel to each other. Aubrey continued unlocking the secrets of the bodyswapping gene to try and find a way to track it, while Derek pursued Nevyn by thinking like him, and looking for his telltale signatures in society.
A month ago, Derek had success, and had intercepted Nevyn. In a phone call, Derek had given his parents the good news that it was finally over.
“Nevyn’s dead. He knew I was chasing him and he ran into traffic. A second later he was hit by a bus. After all this time, that’s how it ends. It’s so strange. We finally all have our lives back.”
The Johnsons had all moved on as best they could, with Aubrey stating she was going back to college to get her doctorate, and Derek possibly moving back home.
But tonight, none of this was on Richard’s mind. Because tonight he was celebrating his birthday. Because of Nancy’s insensitive remarks, husband and wife made a wager. If he could pick up a woman at a local hotel bar and get her to go upstairs to a room for sex, she’d join them for a threesome.
“But what if she doesn’t want a threesome?” Richard had asked.
“You mean if I can’t convince her with my very impressive feminine wiles?” his wife had responded with a laugh. “Then I guess I’ll be doing some very fast hopping. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
This is why Richard now found himself up past his bedtime at a crowded hotel bar where the music was too loud. He’d much rather be at home, waiting to see who his wife was bringing him that night. But his pride was on the line.
Even though he’d been out of the dating game for a long time, he felt confident he’d be able to land a hottie and take her up to the hotel room they’d booked. He scanned the sea of people. It seemed full of possibilities. He locked eyes with a pretty raven haired woman behind the bar as she mixed a drink. She winked at him. Nancy had chosen this bartender as her vantage point to watch the proceeding.
She totally wanted him to win, which is why she pointed towards a small circular table where a couple of young women sat, chatting and giggling away. After observing them for a few seconds, he shot an upturned eyebrow back at Nancy. He knew these women were at least 21 years of age, but probably not a day older. They still had their whole lives ahead of them. He was just the man that could teach them a thing or two. Richard strode over confidently, believing that this would be over quickly, he’d be fucking one or both of them within the hour, and could go to sleep.
He assessed them as he got closer. The girl to his left was a curly haired brunette with a dazzling smile. She wore a short black dress, but didn’t have a lot going on in the chest department. That was okay. He was always partial to brunettes. They reminded him of his wife and his daughter Aubrey, although they had both been stacked.
To her right was a shoulder length blonde who was offering a generous amount of cleavage to all passersby in a low red blouse with lipstick that matched. His eyes lingered on her exposed skin, and it distracted him so much that he forgot to say anything upon his arrival.
“Can we…help you with something old man?” the blonde said with a pitying smirk.
“He looks lost,” the brunette giggled. “It seems like he’s trying to find directions to your tits.”
“Don’t even!” the blonde squealed, and whacked the brunette on the shoulder playfully. “I’m sure this grandpa is harmless.”
“Or he’s a dirty old man,” the brunette clapped back. “He’s gotta be, right? I mean he came over to our table. To what? Hit on us?” She crossed her legs and looked up at him as if she’d caught him doing something scandalous. “Do you even know how old we are, mister?”
“Um, uh, 21?” Richard replied as he tried to recover from their verbal assault.
“I am,” the blonde said, “But Kinzie here is only 19.”
“How did you…” Richard started to ask.
But the girl identified as Kinzie interjected. “Fake ID grandpa. What? They didn’t have those back in your day?”
“I don’t think they had that kind of technology back then,” the blonde added.
“Just had the wheel and fire, right gramps?”
“I am not that old!” Richard fumed.
“Yeah? How old are you then?” Kinzie asked with a raised eyebrow as she haughtily picked up her drink to take a sip.
“Old enough to…uh…teach you a few things,” Richard said as he tried to turn this interaction around.
This elicited a cringe response on both their faces that ended when they looked at each other and burst into a giggle fit.
The blonde’s eyes drifted down to Richard’s crotch, then back up to meet his. “Can you even get it up? I hear that can be a real problem for senior citizens.”
“I’m sure he can, Mckayla, withe the help of a pill!”
The giggle fit resumed in earnest, and Richard found himself wanting to retreat, from this table, from the premises from civilization. This had been a horrible idea.
Suddenly the bartender was at his side carrying a tray that had three drinks in martini glasses on it. “Here’s your drink sir, and how nice of you to buy a round for these two lovely ladies.”
“Ugh,” Kinzie said with an eye roll. “Well, a free drink’s a free drink.
She reached for it, but Mckayla hesitated and asked the bartender, “He didn’t pay you to slip something into it, did he?”
The bartender’s pretty face faltered as if she’d been slapped. But then she set her jaw, and said tightly, “I can assure you that he’d never have to do anything of the sort. Not when he has me.”
As Kinzie’s fingers curled around the thin stem of a glass, the bartender’s fingers brushed against her for the briefest of moments in a way that so often happens while passing something from one person to the next. A fleeting second of contact that feels both innocuous and yet strangely intimate. It is usually a moment that is here, then gone, but this time, it left a lingering effect in the form of a shudder that began in Kinzie’s hand.
“Excuse me?” Mckayla asked loudly in response to what the bartender had just said. But she got no response, because the bartender’s gaze had gone slack.
“Um, Mckayla, I think maybe I’ve had too much to drink,” Kinzie said as she looked at the tremor rapidly spreading up her arm.
Mckayla didn’t look at her friend but continued to study the bartender. It was like she was asleep, but her eyes were open. She was just standing as still as a statue holding the tray. “You’ve only had one Kinzie. I swear, you’re such a lightweight. You really should be building up more of a tolerance for the parties at college.”
“No, really, I…I think I want to go…” but the rest of what she might have said was lost as her mind was no longer her own.
“Just kidding!” Kinzie suddenly squealed. “I feel fine! In fact, I think we should go to this handsome guy’s room. You got a room, don’t ya mister?”
Mckayla’s jaw dropped as she turned her head away from the bartender towards her friend. “Are you fucking kidding me girl? You’ve got to be insane if you think that I’m going anywhere with grandpa here just cause he got us a free-”
But she stopped mid sentence as her friend grabbed her wrist, and it too began to shudder.
“What the hell? Why’s my arm fucking doing that? Am I having a stroke or some-”
But then Mckayla went quiet for a second before looking up at the bartender and taking the drink she’d previously insinuated was spiked. “Thank you, ma’am. Now go back and attend to your duties.”
“Yes,” the pretty bartender said in a flat tone before she turned away and went back behind the bar.
“So, stud,” Mackayla said as she eyed Richard up and down as if he were a snack. “I believe you were about to sit down and talk us two lovely ladies into having a threesome with you?” She set her glass down on the table and touched her friend’s hand.
Shudder.
A second later Kinzie said, “Yeah. We’d totally say yes. You can take us upstairs to your room and fuck us stupid. We’re both really nimble. We were both cheerleaders!” She touched Mckayla’s hand.
Shudder.
“I bet you like cheerleaders, don’t ya?” Mckayla said with a wink. “Especially ones that like kissing each other.” She looked at her friend and said, “Kiss me passionately.”
“Yes,” Kinzie said, and then their lips were together as they kissed each other deeply.
Shudder.
“So, what do you say?” Kinzie asked with her thousand watt smile.
Shudder.
“Please take us horny sluts up to your room and be our daddy for the night.”
This sudden reversal of fortune seemed to darken Richard’s mood. “Dammit Nancy! The deal was I do this on my own!”
Several people glanced at the tiny outburst from the older gentleman standing in front of the two young women. He seemed to be reprimanding them for something. Richard seemed to understand he’d made a scene, and smiled bashfully. A few seconds later, everyone went back to their drinks and conversations.
“I’m sorry, Richard,” Nancy’s voice came quietly out of Mckayla’s mouth. “It’s just, I heard these cunts being horrible to you and I thought we could teach them a lesson.” She put a hand on his leg and began sliding it upwards. “Together.”
Mckayla’s voice was back then. “Please mister. Please fuck some manners into us. Kinzie and I would learn so much from you.” She touched her friend on the arm.
Shudder.
“Yeah. Teach us Daddy,” Kinzie whined. “We’ll be good girls for you. We’ll even let you-”
“Enough,” Richard said quietly but firmly. “Anyone I take upstairs tonight will come because they want to. So…get out of these girls and let me get back to finding that person.”
“Fine!” Nancy said with an eye roll. “You still interested in teaching them a lesson though?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Nancy waved over the bartender who approached them quickly. Her eyes seemed less vacant than before, but there was still a bit of a haze there. Nancy casually brushed the back of Kinzie’s hand against the bartender, who shuddered.
“Well,” the bartender said, and she sounded as if she were recommending a drink. “Since you two are such good friends, you’re going to get each other off. I want you to go into the ladies room and strip naked, then toss your clothes out the window in there. Then go into a stall and begin licking and fingering each other. Try to make each other cum as fast as you can.”
“Yes,” they both said in perfect unison. They immediately stood, and with robotic grace walked to the ladies room.
“Well fuck me,” Richard said. “Now I want to go to the ladies room.”
“You had your chance,” Nancy said with a smirk. “Although I did memorize Mckayla’s address if you ever want me to go pay her a visit.”
A huge grin crept over Richard’s face. “I love you.”
“I know. Now get back on the horse and go get ‘em tiger. I’ll be over there watching. Best of luck. I do want you to have a happy birthday!”
“I think I’ll go hit on someone near the ladies room.”
“You do that, dear,” she said with a laugh, then went back to resume bartending.
Richard set off in the direction the two girls had gone. He passed by several people that looked like couples or were just trying to relax by themselves. He considered hitting on a few of them, but crossed off the ones that looked under 26. No more early twentysomethings. Too obnoxious and rude. He’d go aim a bit higher, which, he didn’t want to admit, would probably up his chances of success.
He decided on a professionally dressed woman in a light blue blouse and dark skirt sitting by herself. She wore her sandy blonde hair in a bun. She had glasses, and was staring intently at a laptop. If he struck out with her, she’d probably let him down gently unlike those first two had. He wondered if they were in the stall by now, their naked bodies pressed together invading each other’s holes with their tongues and fingers in a desperate attempt to make the other cum.
“This seat taken?” he asked with what he believed to be a suave demeanor.
“Huh, what?” the woman said, not bothering to look at him. “No? You can take it if you want.”
Richard was confused for a second, then understood. “No, I don’t need it for another table. I wanted to sit with you.”
This caused her to look up at him like he’d just said something very stupid. “Why?”
“Because…” he said, as he tried to think of something clever. He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever actually been clever in his life. “Because I wanted to get to know the prettiest woman in this bar.”
Her eyebrow raised and she gave him a quick up and down assessment. Then her lips pursed together like she’d tasted something sour. “Um…no. Thank you.”
Richard had been in sales for a long time, and never accepted the first no. Sometimes not the second. He could do this. He just needed a chance to show her what a catch he was. “I really think you’ll like me if you get to know me.”
“Probably not,” she said dismissively. “Because I tend not to like married men who hit on other women.”
This comment took Richard aback. “What? Why would you think I’m-”
“Wedding ring, dipshit,” the woman said, pointing at his left hand.
Despite the fact that Nancy’s actual body had been declared dead and they’d had a funeral and everything, to Richard, and to Nancy, she was very much alive. Of course he wore his ring. He’d never even thought about taking it off until this very second. Now he realized how foolish it had been to wear it while trying to pick up women in a bar. Then he had an idea.
“Oh, um…yeah, I’m…a widower. Just can’t bear to take it off.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and her face went very red. She began fidgeting with her hands as she apologetically blurted out, “Oh shit! I’m so sorry. I should not have…uh, has she been gone long? I mean…I didn’t mean to ask something so personal! I feel so bad! I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“How about you just let me buy you a drink and we get to know each other,” Richard offered as his confidence level soared to new heights. He glanced towards his wife behind the bar and signaled that he had someone on the hook.
The woman grimaced and said, “It’s really flattering, but…I have a deadline and-”
Richard interrupted. “It was a few years back when I lost her, but it still feels like yesterday. She was the love of my life, you know. Tonight was the first night I worked up the courage to put myself back out there.”
The woman’s expression became one of deepest sympathy and she closed her laptop. “I…I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt. Uh…I’m Natalie.”
“Yes!” Richard exclaimed, and he couldn’t help but give a little fist pump. “That’ll show her.”
“Show who?”
Without thinking he said, “My wife. She didn’t think I could still get a woman to give me the time of…” He trailed off as he recognized his mistake.
The woman’s face shifted into one of loathing. “Wait! Was that whole dead wife thing a line?”
“No, I-”
“You’re disgusting. Go find someone else to be sleazy to,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“So close,” Richard said as he stood. Back to square one. He was a few steps away when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
“Fine! Natalie said with a bit of contempt still etched on her face. “You wanna fool around, I could use a destresser. Let’s go.”
Richard couldn’t believe his luck! “I have a room we can-”
“I know someplace closer,” she said, and still clasping his hand, she drug him to the ladies room and pushed open the door.
They both stopped at the sight of two naked women who appeared to be having a wild night. Their hair was a mess and their lipstick was smeared. They were both attempting to cover their bodies with paper towels, but it was not working very well. At the sight of the woman, Kinzie said, “Ohmygosh can you please help us? We need some clothes. Can you-”
“Ah!” Mckayla yelled. “There’s a man with her!”
She made a better attempt to cover her boobs, but her crotch was very much exposed. Richard knew where some of Kinzie’s lipstick went, because some remnants of her shade were between Mckayla’s legs.
“It’s the old guy from before!” Kinzie hissed, and they both darted into a stall.
“Looks like this one has other stuff going on,” Natalie quipped, and pulled Richard out and into the men’s. She led him to a stall, pushed him inside and said, “Take off your pants.”
Richard’s fingers flew to his crotch where they momentarily seemed to forget how to unbuckle a belt.
“Let me help,” Natalie said with an eye roll. She sank to her knees and was much more adept at getting Richard’s pants off than he seemed to be. She made no pretense of why they were there as she yanked down his underwear. She took his cock in her hand, holding it up to be level with her face. Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.
“Oh fuck! That was fast!” he said. His mojo was back! It might not have worked the way he’d planned, but a win was still a-
He felt it then. A telltale shudder. He’d felt it many, many times while he and his wife made love. A shudder was the telltale sign of a bodyhopper moving into a new host. But it continued to happen intermittently while the hopper remained inside. It was a brief struggle of one soul dominating the other. It was like a reflex, and could even be done while a hopper slept, but it was also very noticeable, especially for someone who had been around hoppers as much as Richard.
“Seriously Nancy! Again!” he said as he pushed Natalie’s head back. He’d really been enjoying himself too, but his dick was suddenly deflating as he realized he’d been duped.
The woman’s face looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought I could get you off real quick before I shuddered and then you’d have a win and you could take me upstairs and fuck.”
Richard frowned, pissed that he was still 0 for 2. “Well, you almost got me there. Another 20 seconds of your world class dick sucking and I would have busted all over your face.”
She reached up and stroked his cock, which twitched hopefully in her hand. “You still could, darling. Seriously. I’m so horny in this body. I’d love it if you took me right here in this stall.”
Richard had to hand it to his wife. She could bring out the sluttiest part of any woman. He could take her right here and she’d never know because of how Nancy could alter her memories. But he shook his head and helped her to her feet.
“Wait! When did you even hop her?” he asked as he pulled his pants up.
She gave a small smile. “I’d just arrived to take your drink order when you got up to leave her table. A second later I was her, and pulled you into the bathroom so you wouldn’t notice the bartender right behind us.”
“That was so funny seeing those two girls in the bathroom.”
“That’s why I took you in there first. Did you see the lipstick on the one girl’s hoo ha?”
“Oh yeah.”
The couple burst out laughing, but then Richard said, “Okay, I’m going back out there. No help this time, understood?”
Nancy slumped Natalie’s shoulders. “I don’t think you know how much I want you to succeed, dear. I really need it right now. I might just rub one out in the stall real quick when you leave. Unless you want to watch?” She began to unbutton her blouse while she bit her lower lip. “You could still help this uptight business woman unwind?”
Richard left in a hurry before his wife could tempt him further. What did he do to deserve such a seductive creature?
As he left the restroom, he eyed the occupants of the bar with new determination. Third time’s the charm. He’d just…pick someone closer to his age. Not his preferred choice, but a gal with experience could certainly bring a lot to the table, or in this case, the bedroom. He pocketed his wedding ring as he circled the perimeter, finally coming back near the entrance where other hotel guests passed close by.
It was there he saw someone he’d passed by earlier. A woman in her early 40’s that he hadn’t really considered. She was quite striking though with her long auburn hair and legs that went on for miles. Richard thought she somewhat resembled Nancy in the face. And also the boobs. The woman was stacked.
She had a duffel bag on the chair next to her. Richard put a hand on the handle of the bag and said, “Mind if I move this so I can have a seat?” As he started to lift it, it began to shake. And growl.
The woman’s eyebrows shot up and she protectively reached for it and pulled it onto her lap. “Have a seat if you must, but Daisy doesn’t like to be jostled unnecessarily.”
Out of the top of the bag popped the face of an adorable Yorkshire terrier. Her furry brown face looked up into his and gave a small yip.
“Good girl,” the woman said with a small smile as she pulled the terrier out of the bag and put her on her lap. “She can be a very good judge of character. You must be a bad man.” The terrier growled at him.
Richard put his hands up and chuckled, then said to the small dog, “I can assure you I meant no harm little lady.” He held out a hand for her to sniff. The terrier did, and then gave his palm a lick.
The woman assessed him, and by her expression, she liked what she saw. “Perhaps you’re not terrible. Go ahead and have a seat.”
Richard did so. “I didn’t know you could have dogs in here.”
“You probably can’t,” the woman said with an air of indifference. “But she’s my emotional support animal. That’s what I tell everyone anyways.”
This annoyed Richard, but he tried hard to focus on her figure, something which the woman didn’t seem to mind him eyeing. “So, what’s your sign?”
This elicited a shrill laugh from the woman. “I haven’t heard that one in awhile.”
“I really need to get some new material.”
“Do you find yourself coming out to hotel bars often enough that you need to constantly refresh it?”
“Er, no,” Richard said. “I usually just stick with the basics. Like, hi, I’m Richard, and you are a very beautiful woman that I would like to get to know better.”
She cocked her head at him, studying him closely like a cat might before pouncing on a mouse, then said, “That was a much better line. I’m Crystal. What would you like to know?”
The two hit it off, and Richard found Crystal’s banter refreshing. She didn’t look at him like he was ancient, or pitied him in any way. Best of all though, she hadn’t shuddered once.
They were mid conversation discussing childhood pets when the bartender came up and asked, “Can I get you two anything?”
“I’ll take a bourbon,” Richard said, not taking his eyes away from Crystal.
“Nothing for me,” Crystal said as she tapped a glass she’d barely touched.
They both just stared at each other, mirroring a smile that belied a bubbling chemistry under the surface.
The spell was momentarily broken by the sound of the bartender clearing her throat. “Will you be taking that bourbon up to your room…sir?”
Richard looked up at the raven haired bartender. “In a bit. We’re in no rush.”
The bartender’s eyes narrowed, and her smile became tight lipped. “Of course…sir. By all means, take your time.”
As she walked away, she touched the shoulder of a woman passing by, who shuddered. That woman whispered something into the bartender’s ear, who went about her duties a moment later.
Richard was oblivious to this. He was enjoying the massive ego boost Crystal was giving him. He found himself opening up to her, sharing things like it was a first date. He was used to seeing different women all the time, but the conversation was always the same, because his wife knew everything about him. This was nice, so much so that he didn’t mind talking and throwing back a few. He was slightly worried that he’d pissed Nancy off, because she acted like she didn’t know him whenever she brought the drinks.
“Well, this has been lovely,” Crystal finally said. “But I should be going.”
“Oh, um, I was wondering if you wanted to…” Richard started, not entirely sure how to seal the deal.
She grinned at him and finished the proposition for him. “If I wanted to come up to your room and we have casual sex like grown adults?”
“Uh…” Richard stammered. “Y-yeah. I guess…that.”
“You’re very cute when you’re flustered.”
“Well if you’d like to see me flustered you should see me try to take my pants off when I’m really excited.”
She laughed. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Sorry, it’s just been awhile since I…”
“Mommy, mommy, she’s got a dog!”
A boy about five or six walking by the hotel bar area with his mom had broken free of her hand and ran to their table. The boy put his hand on the dog’s fur, and gave it a hard pet, causing the dog to shake at the sudden attention.
“Mason!” his mom snapped as she grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him back. “We ask permission before touching someone’s pet. It might have bit you. I’m so sorry,” she said to Crystal as she backpedaled out of the bar with her son.
“No harm done,” Crystal said graciously.
“Mason, use your feet,” the mom admonished. “I feel like I’m dragging you out of here.”
When they were out of earshot, Crystal said, “Kids. They never can resist a cute dog like Daisy.” She gave her pet a loving pat. The dog looked at Richard and yipped playfully. Then she kept yipping.
“Well, if you’re going to start making all that noise, I probably should get you up to a room,” she said. “And it seems like we have options,” she said looking slyly at Richard. “Yours or mine?”
They both laughed and got up from the table. Richard let Crystal take the lead so he could wave at the pretty bartender, who didn’t seem to understand why he was pointing at Crystal and giving her the thumbs up. The bartender just smiled awkwardly back at him and returned the thumbs up.
Richard was glad his wife was letting him get a head start, knowing she’d show up soon. He and Crystal got in the elevator and faced the closing doors. He pressed the button to his floor, and as he did, he didn’t notice the dog’s nose reaching up out of the bag to press against Crystal’s hip. Nor did he see Crystal shudder a moment later.
“Let’s go to mine actually,” she said. “It’s on the top floor. The penthouse suite. Great view.”
“Um…” Richard said, unsure of what to do. It was okay. He could just call down and let his wife know they’d received an upgrade. “Sure thing.”
As soon as the doors were shut, her mouth was on his. He responded in kind, and their hands roamed freely about each other. The dog was oddly silent despite being jostled.
They practically fell out into the empty hallway when the doors opened. They were both panting and pulling at each other’s clothes as they stumbled their way to an ornate door. Crystal pulled out a card from a side pocket of Daisy’s carrier, and pressed it to an electronic device next to the door. The light went green, and the sound of a click could be heard. Crystal pushed her way in, and Richard stepped into a room that was much bigger than the one he thought he’d be sleeping in. There was an entire living room, kitchen, and bedroom area. And as he walked further in, he saw that Crystal hadn’t been kidding. There was an amazing view. He strode to the far side of the living room where a sliding glass door led out to a balcony. He opened it, and stepped out into the night. He was ten stories up, with the city a twinkling sea of lights below him.
“If you’d rather stay out there you can,” a sultry voice called from behind. “But I think you’ll find the view in here much more interesting.”
Richard turned and found that yes, the view was much better inside this penthouse suite. Crystal hand dispensed with her dress, and was standing in a black lingerie set that she must have been wearing underneath in the off chance she got lucky. With a body like hers though, she didn’t need luck. He was just glad he’d been the one she’d decided to take to bed, but he also chalked some of that up to his own good looks and charm.
He came over to her and pulled her into a kiss. He’d expected it to feel different kissing someone that his wife wasn’t possessing. New. Foreign. But…there was a surprising familiarity to it. New mouth, new tongue, but the way their mouths met was how he’d kissed Nancy for so many years.
An annoying sound went off in Crystal’s purse that she’d tossed onto the bed. It disrupted their entwined tongues. “Sorry,” Crystal said as she scooped her purse up. “That’s the alarm on my phone. I need to go…take my medication. High blood pressure.”
“Totally get it,” Richard started to say as Crystal quickly disappeared into the bathroom a few feet away. “I have high cholesterol.” He wasn’t sure if she’d heard all of that, because she’d slammed the door so fast.
What seemed like just a few seconds later though, she came out again. And her hands were behind her back.
“You found those pills fast,” he said. “It takes my wife a long time to dig anything out of her purse.” He went red immediately, as he realized his little slip of the tongue.
“Are you married, Richard?” she asked sweetly as the tension in her bra gave way as she released the clasp. She began to lower it, giving him a great view of her impressive breasts.
“Uh…y-yes,” he said.
“But you’re here with me?” she said in a teasing manner. “And you’re going to fuck me, aren’t you.” She hadn’t said it as a question, but as a fact.
Richard nodded quickly. “I am!”
“Does your wife know you’re here?” Crystal asked as her fingers began to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, well, no, not here. She knows I’m in the hotel. It’s a long story, you see, it’s my birthday. She said I could have a threesome if I could pick up a woman at the bar.”
Crystal laughed softly. “Oh. So I’m expected to invite someone else up to my suite am I? Is your wife attractive?”
Richard thought that was a rather funny question since Nancy could be anyone she pleased. Currently, she was in that very pretty bartender. “Yeah, she’s…very attractive,” he said earnestly as he pulled out his phone to call the bar. “I can let her we’re in your suite so she can come up and-”
Crystal grabbed the phone from his hand and threw it with a smile onto the bed. “Not just yet. I want you to myself for a little bit. That okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She winked at him as she unzipped his pants. “That was the right answer.” And then she was dropping to her knees, pulling his pants down as she went. Her fingers deftly moved to the hem of his boxers, which came down just as fast. “My, my!” she said as Richard’s sizeable erection popped out. She licked her lips at the sight of it. “Someone is very excited to see me.”
“Oh he is,” Richard chuckled. “So how do you want to-” was as far as he got before he gave a happy little strangled moan, because Crystal had taken him in her mouth. And the way she used her tongue, Richard knew this was not her first rodeo. His stamina had increased with age, probably because he was getting laid about every night from a different beautiful woman. But the way Crystal was sucking him, he wasn’t going to last long.
He tried to signal this by tapping her on the head, and then by sputtering a very coherent, “Um...”
But she kept going, getting him right up to the edge, and then…stopped just as quickly as she’d started. She’d seemed to know where his line was, and had backed off in the nick of time.
“Sorry,” she said as she stood and delicately wiped her mouth. “I just had to see if it tasted as good as it looked.”
Richard was trying to catch his breath as he asked, “And?”
“It was even better,” she giggled. Then she led him to the bed, and pushed him onto it. “What’s your favorite position, Richard?” she asked.
“Uh, basically just…”
“Whatever your wife wants?” Crystal finished for him. “You must be happily married,” she added with a wink. “Well, I like to be on top.”
“That works for me,” Richard said happily as he flopped his body against the bed.
Crystal started to crawl on top of him with a seductive smile, when her phone went off again. She blew a strand of hair out of her face as she got up and looked in annoyance in the direction of her phone. “Sorry. Just let me go take care of something real quick.”
“Whatever you need to do,” Richard said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m counting on it,” she said with a smile as she again slipped quickly into the bathroom.
Richard spied the hotel phone next to the bed, and reached for it.
“How can I help you?” a polite voice asked on the other end.
“Bar please?”
“Certainly.”
A second later the familiar voice of the bartender picked up. “Hello. What drink order would you like sent to your-”
Richard cut her off. “Nancy, it’s me. I’m in the penthouse suite. Come join us as soon as you can.” He heard the turning of the bathroom handle and said, “Love you!”
“Excuse me?” came the voice on the other end, but the receiver was already on its way forcibly back to its cradle.
“Ordering room service?” Crystal asked coyly as she reentered the room. She walked nimbly towards him with searching eyes.
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Hope that’s okay?” Richard noticed she’d left her phone in the bathroom. Hopefully that was the last interruption.
“As long as you charged it to my room,” she said demurely. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. I think I was about to get on top of you and ride your dick until you cum inside my wet pussy.”
Richard stretched out and smiled. “Well, if you must.”
Crystal’s eyes flashed, and she looked almost predatory as she made her way onto the bed. She eyed his cock like it was a prize that was just there for her. She curled her fingers around it and gave it a gentle squeeze. It throbbed in appreciation. She leaned forward and pressed her large breasts against his chest. She made eye contact with him while she used the hand gripping his shaft to guide it in. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ the second he parted her. She stayed there for a moment, with just his tip in, then she rocked her hips forward, and he was suddenly deep inside her.
Richard let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding when he felt the tip go in. Nancy always watched him very closely whenever he went into new pussy that she’d brought home. Crystal continued watching him closely too.
“So big,” she cooed. “So hard. So…familiar,” she said with a sly smile.
“Familiar?” he asked, his chest rising and falling from the way she was grinding her hips. This woman was something else. She really knew how to use her body.
In lieu of an answer, she leaned down again and kissed him passionately. She flexed her pussy as their tongues danced together.
Richard loved everything this woman was doing. Clearly she had a lot of experience, but what she said, and how she kissed him. It was so like Nancy would kiss him. He tried to ask her about it, but her mouth continued to cover his, almost as if she didn’t want him to talk yet. His hands came up to her face but she intercepted them and pushed them back against the bed, pinning him.
At last Crystal ended the kiss and raised her face up just enough so their noses touched. “Just like old times, Richard,” she purred.
And then her face moved rapidly in front of him, as her whole body gave way to a violent shudder.
Richard’s temper flared and he tried to push up, but Crystal held him down. “Nancy, what the hell! I wanted to do this on my own!”
A wicked smile spread across Crystal’s face as she continued to fuck him very slowly. “Afraid you’re mistaken, Richard. I’m not your wife. But I’m not Crystal either.”
_____________________________________________________________________
One hour earlier.
Nancy hadn’t planned on Richard’s foray back into the dating pool taking this long. She had needs! He knew this. And birthday or no, she needed to scratch that itch. The need to wrap her legs around him had increased exponentially as she watched him successfully hit it off with an attractive middle aged woman.
It was not lost on Nancy that Crystal somewhat resembled her as she had been a decade ago. She wished she could hop her. Find out her story real quick and make sure she wasn’t wasting her husband’s time. But that’d have to wait till later. She saw that every second Crystal spent with Richard was doing wonders for his self esteem. And it was also making Nancy jealous, something she had not felt in some time. She kind of liked it, because watching her husband interact from afar with a beautiful woman that she was not possessing spiked her lust. She wanted them to go upstairs now! But since they were taking their sweet time, Nancy decided to quell some of her desire by popping out for a quickie as someone else.
In a hotel, this prospect was incredibly easy. She grabbed a bottle of champagne and went to the front desk. She hopped the man behind a computer, looked up who was in a honeymoon suite, hopped back into the bartender, and went to one of the corresponding rooms.
There was a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging from the door handle of the room she’d chosen. Nancy knocked anyway. A loud curse was heard along with the sound of giggles. A half a minute later, an attractive young man opened the door wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looked flushed and agitated.
“We put the sign on the door,” he spluttered.
“So sorry,” Nancy said as she held out the bottle of champagne. “We forgot to give this to you at the front desk as a way of congratulations.”
The man’s demeanor changed as he saw the expensive looking bottle. He reached out to take it. “Well…thanks I-”
But the words ceased as his fingers brushed the bartender’s, and a shudder spread rapidly through him. He smiled back at the bartender a moment later. “Go resume your duties. This shouldn’t take long.”
“Yes,” the bartender said vacantly, and left.
Nancy shut the door, and let the towel drop. She looked down at a semi flaccid penis that was rapidly reclaiming its hardened status. “Not bad. Now let’s see who’s the lucky recipient of this fine specimen.”
She went deeper into the room and found a gorgeous blonde wearing nothing but a smile. Nancy usually preferred being in a female during sex, but she figured what the hell. She’d show this bride a good time on her wedding night. She climbed confidently onto the bed and spread the woman’s legs.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Jackson you, you seem…more sure of yourself all of a sudden!”
Nancy smiled down at the pretty girl. She’d be letting Jackson keep his memory of what was about to transpire. “I’m just so excited to do this with you for the first time, Lilly.” And with that, Nancy thrust into her, and did her very best to last longer than five minutes. She made it to six, but redeemed herself by some fancy finger work on Lilly after. She got Lilly off three times, and then did some cuddling.
Nancy found the young man’s recovery time impressive, because she was hard again and ready to go in no time. Being in a young stud certainly had its advantages. She couldn’t help but compare Richard’s recovery time, which was 24 hours these days unless he took a pill. She didn’t like when he did that though, because they could be bad for his heart.
Nancy left a well fucked and very happy Lilly in the room to go ‘get ice’ for the champagne. She made sure to let Jackson keep the memory of what happened to be their first sexual encounter, and then hopped back into the bartender.
She surveyed the room and discovered quickly that her husband had left. She perused the bartender’s memories and discovered her husband’s phone call. He wouldn’t be in their room, but had hung up before saying which it was. She’d have to play detective. Thankfully that was very easy to do when you had complete access to someone’s mind from just a touch. She headed to the front desk again to find out where her man was.
___________________________________________________________________________
“What do you mean you’re not my wife,” Richard asked. “I…I saw you shudder, Nancy. Hell, I felt you shudder,” he added with a forced grin. He did not like whatever game his wife was playing.
The voice that came out of Crystal’s mouth was not her own, but that of a man, low and gravelly. “I miss playing the part of your wife, Richard. Did it for a few months, remember? You were a stallion back then. Always happy to fuck me every day.”
Richard knew that voice all too well, and a chill ran up his spine. “Nevyn. I thought you were dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Nevyn said coldly. “But I’m afraid it’s not that easy to kill me. Some might say, it’s impossible. Uh oh…someone’s trying to get all soft on me.”
Crystal’s voice came back as Nevyn sat up straight and began bouncing on Richard’s cock. “We can’t have that, baby. If this voice keeps you nice and hard I’ll use it from now on while we fuck. Mm…that’s right. Stay nice and hard for me. I always did appreciate your big dick.”
“What do you want?” Richard asked, furious that his penis had a mind of its own.
“To wish you a happy birthday of course.” He brought Richard’s hands up to Crystal’s chest and placed them firmly on them. “Be a dear and hold these. Big tits like these need support when I really get going. And they liked to be squeezed. I know that’s something you’ve always been willing to do.”
“Nevyn, I can’t…we can’t…”
“Oh but we can,” Nevyn said with Crystal’s seductive voice. “We certainly used to. You made love to me every night, remember? I’d be waiting for you in the most scandalous lingerie. Nancy had stopped wearing it for you back then, but I had something provocative on that showed off her body for you all the time. And we used so many toys on each other. I really loved what you did with those handcuffs. You were an animal that night. Remember when I let you cover me in whip cream that other time. Ha! I know Derek remembers that night too. Our naughty son caught Mommy in the kitchen. He had to go back to his room and think about how you were gonna lick it off me. I was so loud that night. All so Derek could hear. So it would drive him nuts. Or should I say, drive him to nut.”
“Stop…talking about stuff like that,” Richard groaned, trying his best not to cum.
“Don’t play innocent with me, Richard. All this talk about me being in your wife and making her do all those kinky things is making you harder than ever. I can FEEL it because I’m as connected with you right now as anyone can be. Let me tell you something else you might not want to hear, but I know is the truth. You loved it when I was Nancy. You loved the kinky shit I let you do to her.”
Crystal’s body sped up as Nevyn began lifting her up higher and slamming down the length of him. “And I was happy to do it, Richard. Because your dick, well, it is really great. I’ve had thousands of cocks over the centuries, and yours was easily top five. It can stretch a girl out real nice. And your stamina, damn! It took a lot ot wear you out. You gonna have that same stamina tonight for me, Richard? Gonna make me cum on your big hard dick before you blow your load inside me like you used to? I loved that by the way. You always shot out so much! Hung like a horse and cums like one too. Oh I miss it Richard. Yeah! Fuck me like you used to!”
Richard hated how much he had liked that time. He’d always loved sex, and Nevyn had hopped Nancy during a dry spell in their lives. He’d used Nancy’s body to great effect. “Shut the fuck up! Oh fuck! Fuck! You’re sick! You’re a fucking psychopath!”
All of a sudden there was a loud knock on the door. “It’s me!” a voice called.
“That’s Nancy,” Richard said as relief washed over him.
“I knew she’d be along shortly,” Nevyn said as he continued to ride Richard. “And what good timing. Tell her to come in. I’m sure she has a key with since she is probably in the body of a hotel staff member.”
It seemed to Richard that Nevyn was five steps ahead of him. That wasn’t unusual. There was a reason that Derek and Aubrey had struggled to catch him for so long.
A hard slap across his face cleared the thoughts from his mind, and then Nevyn’s voice hissed menacingly, “I said tell her to come in.”
He wanted to protect his wife, but she was immune to Nevyn’s bodyhopping abilities. She should be fine. It was him that was at risk, so he yelled, “Come in Nancy!”
Just outside the door Nancy wondered why Richard wasn’t coming to let her in himself, but…maybe the woman, whose name she’d learned was Crystal, had him tied to the bed or something. She could only hope. What a fun night this could turn out to be.
She pressed a master key card against the locking mechanism and pushed the door open. There was her husband underneath the beautiful woman, who was craning her neck to look back at her.
“Nancy,” the woman called out. “So good to see you again. Your husband’s just as good as I remember, and if I’m not mistaken, given his shortness of breath and the way he can’t help but thrust his hips under me, he’s about to cum.”
“Richard, you’d better wait until-” Nancy began with a smile on her face. But it faltered as her mind started to piece together the words Crystal had just said, and another layer of tension was added by the fearful expression on her husband’s face.
“It’s Nevyn,” he moaned. “Ah! Dammit!” His whole body tensed as his cock began to pulse.
“Oh yes!” Nevyn cheered. “That’s it. There’s so much! Let it out! Here, I’ll help you!”
Richard felt Crystal’s vaginal walls flex and milk every drop from him. He also felt Nancy watching him in a mix of shock and horror. He mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’
“It’s not your fault, honey,” she said. Then her tone turned to ice as she looked at Nevyn. “Get off him you sick freak. You’ve had your fun.”
Richard wondered if he could push Nevyn off and run. But it would only take a touch for Nevyn to possess his body. He felt his dick slide out of Crystal’s pussy, and his cum began to leak out of her onto his torso.
“I will when I’m ready,” Nevyn’s voice growled. He switched back to Crystal’s voice. “Did you ever tell your wife that you liked her more when I was possessing her?”
Richard looked at his wife pitifully “Honey, that’s not-”
Nevyn clucked his tongue. “Let’s not lie, Richard. I went through your memories when I visited your house this last week.”
“What’re you talking about?” Nancy asked.
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking!” Nevyn’s voice bellowed. He quickly switched back to the seductive tone of Crystal as he stroked Richard’s face. “I looked way back and saw that you were very happy during the time I pretended to be your wife. You never told her that, but it’s the truth. I was better at making you happy than she ever was. I was such a good wife and perfect slut for you in her body.”
“He’s lying!” Richard yelled.
“It’s fine, honey,” Nancy said. “He’s just trying to wind us up.”
Nevyn smiled. “Aw, you guys are sweet. Might as well get down to business then. I need to make a phone call to your kids. I’m sure you got a way to reach them, don’t you?”
Richard shook his head.
“Liar,” Nevyn spat. “Well, I guess say goodbye to Nancy, Richard.”
“What!” Richard blurted, and then he felt the shudder begin in his groin and spread out like lightning through his body. His face turned to Nancy. “I love you!” he said.
And then he blinked. And Richard was no longer in control.
“Get off me,” Nevyn said from underneath a now vacant eye’d Crystal. She immediately did, getting off him and standing expressionless at the side of the bed.
Nancy watched nervously as her husband’s body got up from the bed and went to dig his phone out of the pants that he’d tossed into a corner. “Just…let him go, please,” she begged.
“I will,” Nevyn said while he initiated a video call. “After I’ve delivered a message to Derek and Bri.” He walked over to the sliding glass door and opened it.
A second later, Aubrey’s face came on the screen. “Hey Derek! Dad’s calling. Happy birthday Dad!”
Another face pushed its way onto the screen, that of a pretty redhead with lots of freckles. “Hey Dad! Happy birthday! Sorry we couldn’t be there. Mom do something special for you?”
“She took me to a hotel with a great view!” Nevyn said imitating Richard’s voice and cadence flawlessly. “Wanna see?” He turned the camera so they could see the city lights below.
“Aw, that’s nice,” Aubrey gushed. “Is she there?”
Nevyn turned the phone so they could see the body that Nancy was in. The kids, used to this, called out, “Hi mom!”
“Nevyn’s not dead,” she replied grimly. “He’s here, inside your father.”
Nevyn turned the camera back to their father’s face. He’d wiped it off its smile, and traded it for a darkened scowl directed at Nancy. “Your family really sucks at letting me have any fun.”
The twins' faces had become hardened masks.
“Leave our parents alone, Nevyn,” Derek’s voice said harshly.
“What?” Nevyn said menacingly. “The way you left me alone? The way you keep trying to track me down. I know you don’t want to lock me away somewhere. You want to kill me!”
He’d shouted those last two words, making Nancy jump.
“I know you thought you had, but I’ve learned something, unlike you two and anyone else with my gene, I can’t be killed. Isn’t that great! But I CAN be annoyed at having my plans interrupted. So I’m going to respond to your attempt on my life, by an attempt on someone you love. I just think I’ll be a little more successful. Let’s find out, shall we?”
And with that, Nevyn swung a leg over the balcony railing, and leapt off.
Screams pierced the air as Nancy rang to the edge and looked down. They came from Nancy, and from the phone that Nevyn had pulled close to Richard’s chest. He held it in such a way that when his body met the ground, the phone remained intact. Aubrey’s scream could still be heard from the speaker.
In the busy downtown district, a crowd quickly formed. Nancy watched as a man approached her husband’s body. “Don’t touch him!” she yelled, but no one on the ground could make it out.
But the twins also knew the danger and understood what would come next. “Get away from him!” Derek cried.
“Stay away!” Aubrey shouted.
But all it takes is one touch.
The man touched Richard’s arm, and immediately began to shudder as Nevyn’s soul passed from their dead father, into the stranger, who then took the phone out of Richard’s hand and held it to his face.
“If you get in my way again,” Nevyn warned. “This is how it will end for all of you.”
With that, he ended the call, and walked away past the crowd, satisfied that he’d been understood.
_______________________________________________________________________
Epilogue
65 years later.
Derek sat in the passenger seat as Stephanie drove them out of Maine. They had one more stop to make before they made the long journey to headquarters. Derek hadn’t been back there since coming into possession of the mirror. That had been for his safety, and everyone else’s. At a place filled with active bodyhoppers, the mirror was sexual napalm, and the ramifications could be catastrophic. It really said something about the current state of the world that it was worth the risk.
Stephanie had assured him that all the pieces were coming together. They finally had the means to track Nevyn after he’d created a world filled with people just like him. But if Derek could just get near him, it would all be over. The world still might not be the same, but at least, if his hypothesis was right, the body swapping everyone worldwide was experiencing would finally come to an end.
He became aware that his hand was in the bag. His fingers were running along the smooth wooden handle. It called to him.
“This isn’t going to end well, you know,” Bekka’s voice said in his head.
“I know,” Derek said aloud.
“Know what?” Stephanie asked.
“Nothing,” Derek grunted. “I just talk to myself sometimes.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Stephanie gripped the steering wheel tightly as they passed a POM security vehicle. She breathed easier after she saw it continue on its way in their rearview. She reached into her pocket and took out a phone. “It’s a burner. Untraceable. Call the saved number. Someone really wants to talk to you.”
Derek took it and fumbled with the small device with his large calloused hands. He finally found the contact, and pressed it.
It barely rang when a middle aged blonde woman appeared on the screen.
“Hi Derek,” she said with a wide smile.
Despite himself, Derek smiled back. “How’d you know it was me?”
“A mother always knows.”
He nodded. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I’ve been away so long. But I’m glad it’s finally time. Ready to help set the world right, Mom?”
“I am. All of us are ready to do whatever it takes to stop Nevyn, and we can track him now thanks to Trevor. Thanks for sending him to us by the way, he’s been really great. Like, REALLY great.”
Derek tried to keep the smile on his face, but at the sound of the shapeshifter’s name, his grip involuntarily tightened on the mirror’s handle. “You don’t have to elaborate mom, I get it. It’ll be good to see all of you soon. And to finally have justice for dad.”
To be continued in Shudder: Worldwide.
It was Richard Johnson’s birthday, and he was a man on a mission. He was going to pick up a beautiful woman in a hotel bar using only his appearance and charm. He hadn’t needed to rely on those attributes in a very long time, but still managed to have a different woman in his bed every night. That was one of the perks to being married to a bodyhopper.
For the ten years that she’d been a bodyhopper, Nancy Johnson loved bringing home women that would entice her husband to fuck her senseless. If a pretty cashier caught his eye, or the cute teller at the bank, or a seductive college cheerleader, or one of the many local milfs, Nancy would make sure each of their bodies spent some very intimate time with her man. She’d even gone on a few trips to bring in some celebrities that he’d crushed on forever.
Nancy became bodyhopper during an experiment run by her twin children, Derek and Aubrey. They’d used an electrical charge to spark a gene inside of her. They knew it was there, because it ran in their family. Once activated, she gained the ability to pass her soul from one body to the next. In doing so, she gained access to that person’s mind and could pass for them with the greatest of ease. She had used it to seduce her husband, and eventually persuaded him to leave her aging body behind.
The couple were still very much in love, and when Nancy wasn’t fucking her husband’s brains out in a body typically younger than her previous one, they were enjoying hobbies and conversations that were akin to people who had been together for many years. They didn’t go out on many dates though since Nancy was usually in the body of a woman in her 20’s that could have been Richard’s granddaughter. It was here that the trouble started.
A week ago Nancy had gently teased her husband while in the guise of a cute, blonde 21 year old. She told him he’d never be able to pick up someone like her in real life because of the age gap. She thought it would turn him on. One of his favorite things was when she brought home a young woman and began calling him ‘Daddy.’ Perhaps because his 55th birthday was a week away, or the fact that they could no longer grow old together, he took it poorly.
“Age is just a number,” he snapped back. “I could go into a bar, any bar, and have a woman on my arm by the end of the night.”
Nancy had then made the catastrophic mistake of laughing at this remark. The idea of her husband with his wrinkles and gray hair going to a club and using his cheesy lines on a woman to take her back home was honestly absurd to her.
Richard’s pride took a hit, and he went to sleep on the couch that night, and no amount of cajoling or seduction could get him to return. This was also a blow to Nancy, because a bodyhopper continually craved sex. It seemed to be part of the gene. In instances like these, she’d had to seek other options. In that case, she’d taken the blonde home and fucked her boyfriend.
Nancy fucked a lot of boyfriends and husbands when she inevitably returned a host body. Richard knew this of these indiscretions, but also knew that as horny as he often was, his wife had an itch that he couldn’t always scratch, especially as he got older. He’d never resented her for it, because he’d been around a few bodyhoppers the last decade. Derek was one, and like Nancy, no longer had a body of his own. Aubrey was too, but had to keep her body hooked up to life support if she ever hopped someone.
Then there was the third bodyhopper they all knew. The one who had passed the gene on to so many people over the last few centuries. His name was Nevyn, and he’d almost ruined all of their lives.
Nevyn had possessed Nancy for a few months long ago, living with the Johnsons and teasing Derek relentlessly. But after Nevyn lost his bodyhopping power and became stuck in Derek’s body, he’d briefly aligned himself with the Johnsons in the pursuit of getting Derek his body back. They’d studied the gene and made several breakthroughs, and somewhere during this process, Nevyn felt sidelined, and eventually betrayed. He used what he knew to get his powers back by himself, which led to a close friend of the Johnsons named Bekka to lose her life, although the twins often spoke of her like she was still alive.
Nevyn’s actions spurred the twins along two different paths that ran parallel to each other. Aubrey continued unlocking the secrets of the bodyswapping gene to try and find a way to track it, while Derek pursued Nevyn by thinking like him, and looking for his telltale signatures in society.
A month ago, Derek had success, and had intercepted Nevyn. In a phone call, Derek had given his parents the good news that it was finally over.
“Nevyn’s dead. He knew I was chasing him and he ran into traffic. A second later he was hit by a bus. After all this time, that’s how it ends. It’s so strange. We finally all have our lives back.”
The Johnsons had all moved on as best they could, with Aubrey stating she was going back to college to get her doctorate, and Derek possibly moving back home.
But tonight, none of this was on Richard’s mind. Because tonight he was celebrating his birthday. Because of Nancy’s insensitive remarks, husband and wife made a wager. If he could pick up a woman at a local hotel bar and get her to go upstairs to a room for sex, she’d join them for a threesome.
“But what if she doesn’t want a threesome?” Richard had asked.
“You mean if I can’t convince her with my very impressive feminine wiles?” his wife had responded with a laugh. “Then I guess I’ll be doing some very fast hopping. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
This is why Richard now found himself up past his bedtime at a crowded hotel bar where the music was too loud. He’d much rather be at home, waiting to see who his wife was bringing him that night. But his pride was on the line.
Even though he’d been out of the dating game for a long time, he felt confident he’d be able to land a hottie and take her up to the hotel room they’d booked. He scanned the sea of people. It seemed full of possibilities. He locked eyes with a pretty raven haired woman behind the bar as she mixed a drink. She winked at him. Nancy had chosen this bartender as her vantage point to watch the proceeding.
She totally wanted him to win, which is why she pointed towards a small circular table where a couple of young women sat, chatting and giggling away. After observing them for a few seconds, he shot an upturned eyebrow back at Nancy. He knew these women were at least 21 years of age, but probably not a day older. They still had their whole lives ahead of them. He was just the man that could teach them a thing or two. Richard strode over confidently, believing that this would be over quickly, he’d be fucking one or both of them within the hour, and could go to sleep.
He assessed them as he got closer. The girl to his left was a curly haired brunette with a dazzling smile. She wore a short black dress, but didn’t have a lot going on in the chest department. That was okay. He was always partial to brunettes. They reminded him of his wife and his daughter Aubrey, although they had both been stacked.
To her right was a shoulder length blonde who was offering a generous amount of cleavage to all passersby in a low red blouse with lipstick that matched. His eyes lingered on her exposed skin, and it distracted him so much that he forgot to say anything upon his arrival.
“Can we…help you with something old man?” the blonde said with a pitying smirk.
“He looks lost,” the brunette giggled. “It seems like he’s trying to find directions to your tits.”
“Don’t even!” the blonde squealed, and whacked the brunette on the shoulder playfully. “I’m sure this grandpa is harmless.”
“Or he’s a dirty old man,” the brunette clapped back. “He’s gotta be, right? I mean he came over to our table. To what? Hit on us?” She crossed her legs and looked up at him as if she’d caught him doing something scandalous. “Do you even know how old we are, mister?”
“Um, uh, 21?” Richard replied as he tried to recover from their verbal assault.
“I am,” the blonde said, “But Kinzie here is only 19.”
“How did you…” Richard started to ask.
But the girl identified as Kinzie interjected. “Fake ID grandpa. What? They didn’t have those back in your day?”
“I don’t think they had that kind of technology back then,” the blonde added.
“Just had the wheel and fire, right gramps?”
“I am not that old!” Richard fumed.
“Yeah? How old are you then?” Kinzie asked with a raised eyebrow as she haughtily picked up her drink to take a sip.
“Old enough to…uh…teach you a few things,” Richard said as he tried to turn this interaction around.
This elicited a cringe response on both their faces that ended when they looked at each other and burst into a giggle fit.
The blonde’s eyes drifted down to Richard’s crotch, then back up to meet his. “Can you even get it up? I hear that can be a real problem for senior citizens.”
“I’m sure he can, Mckayla, withe the help of a pill!”
The giggle fit resumed in earnest, and Richard found himself wanting to retreat, from this table, from the premises from civilization. This had been a horrible idea.
Suddenly the bartender was at his side carrying a tray that had three drinks in martini glasses on it. “Here’s your drink sir, and how nice of you to buy a round for these two lovely ladies.”
“Ugh,” Kinzie said with an eye roll. “Well, a free drink’s a free drink.
She reached for it, but Mckayla hesitated and asked the bartender, “He didn’t pay you to slip something into it, did he?”
The bartender’s pretty face faltered as if she’d been slapped. But then she set her jaw, and said tightly, “I can assure you that he’d never have to do anything of the sort. Not when he has me.”
As Kinzie’s fingers curled around the thin stem of a glass, the bartender’s fingers brushed against her for the briefest of moments in a way that so often happens while passing something from one person to the next. A fleeting second of contact that feels both innocuous and yet strangely intimate. It is usually a moment that is here, then gone, but this time, it left a lingering effect in the form of a shudder that began in Kinzie’s hand.
“Excuse me?” Mckayla asked loudly in response to what the bartender had just said. But she got no response, because the bartender’s gaze had gone slack.
“Um, Mckayla, I think maybe I’ve had too much to drink,” Kinzie said as she looked at the tremor rapidly spreading up her arm.
Mckayla didn’t look at her friend but continued to study the bartender. It was like she was asleep, but her eyes were open. She was just standing as still as a statue holding the tray. “You’ve only had one Kinzie. I swear, you’re such a lightweight. You really should be building up more of a tolerance for the parties at college.”
“No, really, I…I think I want to go…” but the rest of what she might have said was lost as her mind was no longer her own.
“Just kidding!” Kinzie suddenly squealed. “I feel fine! In fact, I think we should go to this handsome guy’s room. You got a room, don’t ya mister?”
Mckayla’s jaw dropped as she turned her head away from the bartender towards her friend. “Are you fucking kidding me girl? You’ve got to be insane if you think that I’m going anywhere with grandpa here just cause he got us a free-”
But she stopped mid sentence as her friend grabbed her wrist, and it too began to shudder.
“What the hell? Why’s my arm fucking doing that? Am I having a stroke or some-”
But then Mckayla went quiet for a second before looking up at the bartender and taking the drink she’d previously insinuated was spiked. “Thank you, ma’am. Now go back and attend to your duties.”
“Yes,” the pretty bartender said in a flat tone before she turned away and went back behind the bar.
“So, stud,” Mackayla said as she eyed Richard up and down as if he were a snack. “I believe you were about to sit down and talk us two lovely ladies into having a threesome with you?” She set her glass down on the table and touched her friend’s hand.
Shudder.
A second later Kinzie said, “Yeah. We’d totally say yes. You can take us upstairs to your room and fuck us stupid. We’re both really nimble. We were both cheerleaders!” She touched Mckayla’s hand.
Shudder.
“I bet you like cheerleaders, don’t ya?” Mckayla said with a wink. “Especially ones that like kissing each other.” She looked at her friend and said, “Kiss me passionately.”
“Yes,” Kinzie said, and then their lips were together as they kissed each other deeply.
Shudder.
“So, what do you say?” Kinzie asked with her thousand watt smile.
Shudder.
“Please take us horny sluts up to your room and be our daddy for the night.”
This sudden reversal of fortune seemed to darken Richard’s mood. “Dammit Nancy! The deal was I do this on my own!”
Several people glanced at the tiny outburst from the older gentleman standing in front of the two young women. He seemed to be reprimanding them for something. Richard seemed to understand he’d made a scene, and smiled bashfully. A few seconds later, everyone went back to their drinks and conversations.
“I’m sorry, Richard,” Nancy’s voice came quietly out of Mckayla’s mouth. “It’s just, I heard these cunts being horrible to you and I thought we could teach them a lesson.” She put a hand on his leg and began sliding it upwards. “Together.”
Mckayla’s voice was back then. “Please mister. Please fuck some manners into us. Kinzie and I would learn so much from you.” She touched her friend on the arm.
Shudder.
“Yeah. Teach us Daddy,” Kinzie whined. “We’ll be good girls for you. We’ll even let you-”
“Enough,” Richard said quietly but firmly. “Anyone I take upstairs tonight will come because they want to. So…get out of these girls and let me get back to finding that person.”
“Fine!” Nancy said with an eye roll. “You still interested in teaching them a lesson though?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Nancy waved over the bartender who approached them quickly. Her eyes seemed less vacant than before, but there was still a bit of a haze there. Nancy casually brushed the back of Kinzie’s hand against the bartender, who shuddered.
“Well,” the bartender said, and she sounded as if she were recommending a drink. “Since you two are such good friends, you’re going to get each other off. I want you to go into the ladies room and strip naked, then toss your clothes out the window in there. Then go into a stall and begin licking and fingering each other. Try to make each other cum as fast as you can.”
“Yes,” they both said in perfect unison. They immediately stood, and with robotic grace walked to the ladies room.
“Well fuck me,” Richard said. “Now I want to go to the ladies room.”
“You had your chance,” Nancy said with a smirk. “Although I did memorize Mckayla’s address if you ever want me to go pay her a visit.”
A huge grin crept over Richard’s face. “I love you.”
“I know. Now get back on the horse and go get ‘em tiger. I’ll be over there watching. Best of luck. I do want you to have a happy birthday!”
“I think I’ll go hit on someone near the ladies room.”
“You do that, dear,” she said with a laugh, then went back to resume bartending.
Richard set off in the direction the two girls had gone. He passed by several people that looked like couples or were just trying to relax by themselves. He considered hitting on a few of them, but crossed off the ones that looked under 26. No more early twentysomethings. Too obnoxious and rude. He’d go aim a bit higher, which, he didn’t want to admit, would probably up his chances of success.
He decided on a professionally dressed woman in a light blue blouse and dark skirt sitting by herself. She wore her sandy blonde hair in a bun. She had glasses, and was staring intently at a laptop. If he struck out with her, she’d probably let him down gently unlike those first two had. He wondered if they were in the stall by now, their naked bodies pressed together invading each other’s holes with their tongues and fingers in a desperate attempt to make the other cum.
“This seat taken?” he asked with what he believed to be a suave demeanor.
“Huh, what?” the woman said, not bothering to look at him. “No? You can take it if you want.”
Richard was confused for a second, then understood. “No, I don’t need it for another table. I wanted to sit with you.”
This caused her to look up at him like he’d just said something very stupid. “Why?”
“Because…” he said, as he tried to think of something clever. He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever actually been clever in his life. “Because I wanted to get to know the prettiest woman in this bar.”
Her eyebrow raised and she gave him a quick up and down assessment. Then her lips pursed together like she’d tasted something sour. “Um…no. Thank you.”
Richard had been in sales for a long time, and never accepted the first no. Sometimes not the second. He could do this. He just needed a chance to show her what a catch he was. “I really think you’ll like me if you get to know me.”
“Probably not,” she said dismissively. “Because I tend not to like married men who hit on other women.”
This comment took Richard aback. “What? Why would you think I’m-”
“Wedding ring, dipshit,” the woman said, pointing at his left hand.
Despite the fact that Nancy’s actual body had been declared dead and they’d had a funeral and everything, to Richard, and to Nancy, she was very much alive. Of course he wore his ring. He’d never even thought about taking it off until this very second. Now he realized how foolish it had been to wear it while trying to pick up women in a bar. Then he had an idea.
“Oh, um…yeah, I’m…a widower. Just can’t bear to take it off.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and her face went very red. She began fidgeting with her hands as she apologetically blurted out, “Oh shit! I’m so sorry. I should not have…uh, has she been gone long? I mean…I didn’t mean to ask something so personal! I feel so bad! I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“How about you just let me buy you a drink and we get to know each other,” Richard offered as his confidence level soared to new heights. He glanced towards his wife behind the bar and signaled that he had someone on the hook.
The woman grimaced and said, “It’s really flattering, but…I have a deadline and-”
Richard interrupted. “It was a few years back when I lost her, but it still feels like yesterday. She was the love of my life, you know. Tonight was the first night I worked up the courage to put myself back out there.”
The woman’s expression became one of deepest sympathy and she closed her laptop. “I…I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt. Uh…I’m Natalie.”
“Yes!” Richard exclaimed, and he couldn’t help but give a little fist pump. “That’ll show her.”
“Show who?”
Without thinking he said, “My wife. She didn’t think I could still get a woman to give me the time of…” He trailed off as he recognized his mistake.
The woman’s face shifted into one of loathing. “Wait! Was that whole dead wife thing a line?”
“No, I-”
“You’re disgusting. Go find someone else to be sleazy to,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“So close,” Richard said as he stood. Back to square one. He was a few steps away when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
“Fine! Natalie said with a bit of contempt still etched on her face. “You wanna fool around, I could use a destresser. Let’s go.”
Richard couldn’t believe his luck! “I have a room we can-”
“I know someplace closer,” she said, and still clasping his hand, she drug him to the ladies room and pushed open the door.
They both stopped at the sight of two naked women who appeared to be having a wild night. Their hair was a mess and their lipstick was smeared. They were both attempting to cover their bodies with paper towels, but it was not working very well. At the sight of the woman, Kinzie said, “Ohmygosh can you please help us? We need some clothes. Can you-”
“Ah!” Mckayla yelled. “There’s a man with her!”
She made a better attempt to cover her boobs, but her crotch was very much exposed. Richard knew where some of Kinzie’s lipstick went, because some remnants of her shade were between Mckayla’s legs.
“It’s the old guy from before!” Kinzie hissed, and they both darted into a stall.
“Looks like this one has other stuff going on,” Natalie quipped, and pulled Richard out and into the men’s. She led him to a stall, pushed him inside and said, “Take off your pants.”
Richard’s fingers flew to his crotch where they momentarily seemed to forget how to unbuckle a belt.
“Let me help,” Natalie said with an eye roll. She sank to her knees and was much more adept at getting Richard’s pants off than he seemed to be. She made no pretense of why they were there as she yanked down his underwear. She took his cock in her hand, holding it up to be level with her face. Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.
“Oh fuck! That was fast!” he said. His mojo was back! It might not have worked the way he’d planned, but a win was still a-
He felt it then. A telltale shudder. He’d felt it many, many times while he and his wife made love. A shudder was the telltale sign of a bodyhopper moving into a new host. But it continued to happen intermittently while the hopper remained inside. It was a brief struggle of one soul dominating the other. It was like a reflex, and could even be done while a hopper slept, but it was also very noticeable, especially for someone who had been around hoppers as much as Richard.
“Seriously Nancy! Again!” he said as he pushed Natalie’s head back. He’d really been enjoying himself too, but his dick was suddenly deflating as he realized he’d been duped.
The woman’s face looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought I could get you off real quick before I shuddered and then you’d have a win and you could take me upstairs and fuck.”
Richard frowned, pissed that he was still 0 for 2. “Well, you almost got me there. Another 20 seconds of your world class dick sucking and I would have busted all over your face.”
She reached up and stroked his cock, which twitched hopefully in her hand. “You still could, darling. Seriously. I’m so horny in this body. I’d love it if you took me right here in this stall.”
Richard had to hand it to his wife. She could bring out the sluttiest part of any woman. He could take her right here and she’d never know because of how Nancy could alter her memories. But he shook his head and helped her to her feet.
“Wait! When did you even hop her?” he asked as he pulled his pants up.
She gave a small smile. “I’d just arrived to take your drink order when you got up to leave her table. A second later I was her, and pulled you into the bathroom so you wouldn’t notice the bartender right behind us.”
“That was so funny seeing those two girls in the bathroom.”
“That’s why I took you in there first. Did you see the lipstick on the one girl’s hoo ha?”
“Oh yeah.”
The couple burst out laughing, but then Richard said, “Okay, I’m going back out there. No help this time, understood?”
Nancy slumped Natalie’s shoulders. “I don’t think you know how much I want you to succeed, dear. I really need it right now. I might just rub one out in the stall real quick when you leave. Unless you want to watch?” She began to unbutton her blouse while she bit her lower lip. “You could still help this uptight business woman unwind?”
Richard left in a hurry before his wife could tempt him further. What did he do to deserve such a seductive creature?
As he left the restroom, he eyed the occupants of the bar with new determination. Third time’s the charm. He’d just…pick someone closer to his age. Not his preferred choice, but a gal with experience could certainly bring a lot to the table, or in this case, the bedroom. He pocketed his wedding ring as he circled the perimeter, finally coming back near the entrance where other hotel guests passed close by.
It was there he saw someone he’d passed by earlier. A woman in her early 40’s that he hadn’t really considered. She was quite striking though with her long auburn hair and legs that went on for miles. Richard thought she somewhat resembled Nancy in the face. And also the boobs. The woman was stacked.
She had a duffel bag on the chair next to her. Richard put a hand on the handle of the bag and said, “Mind if I move this so I can have a seat?” As he started to lift it, it began to shake. And growl.
The woman’s eyebrows shot up and she protectively reached for it and pulled it onto her lap. “Have a seat if you must, but Daisy doesn’t like to be jostled unnecessarily.”
Out of the top of the bag popped the face of an adorable Yorkshire terrier. Her furry brown face looked up into his and gave a small yip.
“Good girl,” the woman said with a small smile as she pulled the terrier out of the bag and put her on her lap. “She can be a very good judge of character. You must be a bad man.” The terrier growled at him.
Richard put his hands up and chuckled, then said to the small dog, “I can assure you I meant no harm little lady.” He held out a hand for her to sniff. The terrier did, and then gave his palm a lick.
The woman assessed him, and by her expression, she liked what she saw. “Perhaps you’re not terrible. Go ahead and have a seat.”
Richard did so. “I didn’t know you could have dogs in here.”
“You probably can’t,” the woman said with an air of indifference. “But she’s my emotional support animal. That’s what I tell everyone anyways.”
This annoyed Richard, but he tried hard to focus on her figure, something which the woman didn’t seem to mind him eyeing. “So, what’s your sign?”
This elicited a shrill laugh from the woman. “I haven’t heard that one in awhile.”
“I really need to get some new material.”
“Do you find yourself coming out to hotel bars often enough that you need to constantly refresh it?”
“Er, no,” Richard said. “I usually just stick with the basics. Like, hi, I’m Richard, and you are a very beautiful woman that I would like to get to know better.”
She cocked her head at him, studying him closely like a cat might before pouncing on a mouse, then said, “That was a much better line. I’m Crystal. What would you like to know?”
The two hit it off, and Richard found Crystal’s banter refreshing. She didn’t look at him like he was ancient, or pitied him in any way. Best of all though, she hadn’t shuddered once.
They were mid conversation discussing childhood pets when the bartender came up and asked, “Can I get you two anything?”
“I’ll take a bourbon,” Richard said, not taking his eyes away from Crystal.
“Nothing for me,” Crystal said as she tapped a glass she’d barely touched.
They both just stared at each other, mirroring a smile that belied a bubbling chemistry under the surface.
The spell was momentarily broken by the sound of the bartender clearing her throat. “Will you be taking that bourbon up to your room…sir?”
Richard looked up at the raven haired bartender. “In a bit. We’re in no rush.”
The bartender’s eyes narrowed, and her smile became tight lipped. “Of course…sir. By all means, take your time.”
As she walked away, she touched the shoulder of a woman passing by, who shuddered. That woman whispered something into the bartender’s ear, who went about her duties a moment later.
Richard was oblivious to this. He was enjoying the massive ego boost Crystal was giving him. He found himself opening up to her, sharing things like it was a first date. He was used to seeing different women all the time, but the conversation was always the same, because his wife knew everything about him. This was nice, so much so that he didn’t mind talking and throwing back a few. He was slightly worried that he’d pissed Nancy off, because she acted like she didn’t know him whenever she brought the drinks.
“Well, this has been lovely,” Crystal finally said. “But I should be going.”
“Oh, um, I was wondering if you wanted to…” Richard started, not entirely sure how to seal the deal.
She grinned at him and finished the proposition for him. “If I wanted to come up to your room and we have casual sex like grown adults?”
“Uh…” Richard stammered. “Y-yeah. I guess…that.”
“You’re very cute when you’re flustered.”
“Well if you’d like to see me flustered you should see me try to take my pants off when I’m really excited.”
She laughed. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Sorry, it’s just been awhile since I…”
“Mommy, mommy, she’s got a dog!”
A boy about five or six walking by the hotel bar area with his mom had broken free of her hand and ran to their table. The boy put his hand on the dog’s fur, and gave it a hard pet, causing the dog to shake at the sudden attention.
“Mason!” his mom snapped as she grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him back. “We ask permission before touching someone’s pet. It might have bit you. I’m so sorry,” she said to Crystal as she backpedaled out of the bar with her son.
“No harm done,” Crystal said graciously.
“Mason, use your feet,” the mom admonished. “I feel like I’m dragging you out of here.”
When they were out of earshot, Crystal said, “Kids. They never can resist a cute dog like Daisy.” She gave her pet a loving pat. The dog looked at Richard and yipped playfully. Then she kept yipping.
“Well, if you’re going to start making all that noise, I probably should get you up to a room,” she said. “And it seems like we have options,” she said looking slyly at Richard. “Yours or mine?”
They both laughed and got up from the table. Richard let Crystal take the lead so he could wave at the pretty bartender, who didn’t seem to understand why he was pointing at Crystal and giving her the thumbs up. The bartender just smiled awkwardly back at him and returned the thumbs up.
Richard was glad his wife was letting him get a head start, knowing she’d show up soon. He and Crystal got in the elevator and faced the closing doors. He pressed the button to his floor, and as he did, he didn’t notice the dog’s nose reaching up out of the bag to press against Crystal’s hip. Nor did he see Crystal shudder a moment later.
“Let’s go to mine actually,” she said. “It’s on the top floor. The penthouse suite. Great view.”
“Um…” Richard said, unsure of what to do. It was okay. He could just call down and let his wife know they’d received an upgrade. “Sure thing.”
As soon as the doors were shut, her mouth was on his. He responded in kind, and their hands roamed freely about each other. The dog was oddly silent despite being jostled.
They practically fell out into the empty hallway when the doors opened. They were both panting and pulling at each other’s clothes as they stumbled their way to an ornate door. Crystal pulled out a card from a side pocket of Daisy’s carrier, and pressed it to an electronic device next to the door. The light went green, and the sound of a click could be heard. Crystal pushed her way in, and Richard stepped into a room that was much bigger than the one he thought he’d be sleeping in. There was an entire living room, kitchen, and bedroom area. And as he walked further in, he saw that Crystal hadn’t been kidding. There was an amazing view. He strode to the far side of the living room where a sliding glass door led out to a balcony. He opened it, and stepped out into the night. He was ten stories up, with the city a twinkling sea of lights below him.
“If you’d rather stay out there you can,” a sultry voice called from behind. “But I think you’ll find the view in here much more interesting.”
Richard turned and found that yes, the view was much better inside this penthouse suite. Crystal hand dispensed with her dress, and was standing in a black lingerie set that she must have been wearing underneath in the off chance she got lucky. With a body like hers though, she didn’t need luck. He was just glad he’d been the one she’d decided to take to bed, but he also chalked some of that up to his own good looks and charm.
He came over to her and pulled her into a kiss. He’d expected it to feel different kissing someone that his wife wasn’t possessing. New. Foreign. But…there was a surprising familiarity to it. New mouth, new tongue, but the way their mouths met was how he’d kissed Nancy for so many years.
An annoying sound went off in Crystal’s purse that she’d tossed onto the bed. It disrupted their entwined tongues. “Sorry,” Crystal said as she scooped her purse up. “That’s the alarm on my phone. I need to go…take my medication. High blood pressure.”
“Totally get it,” Richard started to say as Crystal quickly disappeared into the bathroom a few feet away. “I have high cholesterol.” He wasn’t sure if she’d heard all of that, because she’d slammed the door so fast.
What seemed like just a few seconds later though, she came out again. And her hands were behind her back.
“You found those pills fast,” he said. “It takes my wife a long time to dig anything out of her purse.” He went red immediately, as he realized his little slip of the tongue.
“Are you married, Richard?” she asked sweetly as the tension in her bra gave way as she released the clasp. She began to lower it, giving him a great view of her impressive breasts.
“Uh…y-yes,” he said.
“But you’re here with me?” she said in a teasing manner. “And you’re going to fuck me, aren’t you.” She hadn’t said it as a question, but as a fact.
Richard nodded quickly. “I am!”
“Does your wife know you’re here?” Crystal asked as her fingers began to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, well, no, not here. She knows I’m in the hotel. It’s a long story, you see, it’s my birthday. She said I could have a threesome if I could pick up a woman at the bar.”
Crystal laughed softly. “Oh. So I’m expected to invite someone else up to my suite am I? Is your wife attractive?”
Richard thought that was a rather funny question since Nancy could be anyone she pleased. Currently, she was in that very pretty bartender. “Yeah, she’s…very attractive,” he said earnestly as he pulled out his phone to call the bar. “I can let her we’re in your suite so she can come up and-”
Crystal grabbed the phone from his hand and threw it with a smile onto the bed. “Not just yet. I want you to myself for a little bit. That okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She winked at him as she unzipped his pants. “That was the right answer.” And then she was dropping to her knees, pulling his pants down as she went. Her fingers deftly moved to the hem of his boxers, which came down just as fast. “My, my!” she said as Richard’s sizeable erection popped out. She licked her lips at the sight of it. “Someone is very excited to see me.”
“Oh he is,” Richard chuckled. “So how do you want to-” was as far as he got before he gave a happy little strangled moan, because Crystal had taken him in her mouth. And the way she used her tongue, Richard knew this was not her first rodeo. His stamina had increased with age, probably because he was getting laid about every night from a different beautiful woman. But the way Crystal was sucking him, he wasn’t going to last long.
He tried to signal this by tapping her on the head, and then by sputtering a very coherent, “Um...”
But she kept going, getting him right up to the edge, and then…stopped just as quickly as she’d started. She’d seemed to know where his line was, and had backed off in the nick of time.
“Sorry,” she said as she stood and delicately wiped her mouth. “I just had to see if it tasted as good as it looked.”
Richard was trying to catch his breath as he asked, “And?”
“It was even better,” she giggled. Then she led him to the bed, and pushed him onto it. “What’s your favorite position, Richard?” she asked.
“Uh, basically just…”
“Whatever your wife wants?” Crystal finished for him. “You must be happily married,” she added with a wink. “Well, I like to be on top.”
“That works for me,” Richard said happily as he flopped his body against the bed.
Crystal started to crawl on top of him with a seductive smile, when her phone went off again. She blew a strand of hair out of her face as she got up and looked in annoyance in the direction of her phone. “Sorry. Just let me go take care of something real quick.”
“Whatever you need to do,” Richard said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m counting on it,” she said with a smile as she again slipped quickly into the bathroom.
Richard spied the hotel phone next to the bed, and reached for it.
“How can I help you?” a polite voice asked on the other end.
“Bar please?”
“Certainly.”
A second later the familiar voice of the bartender picked up. “Hello. What drink order would you like sent to your-”
Richard cut her off. “Nancy, it’s me. I’m in the penthouse suite. Come join us as soon as you can.” He heard the turning of the bathroom handle and said, “Love you!”
“Excuse me?” came the voice on the other end, but the receiver was already on its way forcibly back to its cradle.
“Ordering room service?” Crystal asked coyly as she reentered the room. She walked nimbly towards him with searching eyes.
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Hope that’s okay?” Richard noticed she’d left her phone in the bathroom. Hopefully that was the last interruption.
“As long as you charged it to my room,” she said demurely. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. I think I was about to get on top of you and ride your dick until you cum inside my wet pussy.”
Richard stretched out and smiled. “Well, if you must.”
Crystal’s eyes flashed, and she looked almost predatory as she made her way onto the bed. She eyed his cock like it was a prize that was just there for her. She curled her fingers around it and gave it a gentle squeeze. It throbbed in appreciation. She leaned forward and pressed her large breasts against his chest. She made eye contact with him while she used the hand gripping his shaft to guide it in. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ the second he parted her. She stayed there for a moment, with just his tip in, then she rocked her hips forward, and he was suddenly deep inside her.
Richard let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding when he felt the tip go in. Nancy always watched him very closely whenever he went into new pussy that she’d brought home. Crystal continued watching him closely too.
“So big,” she cooed. “So hard. So…familiar,” she said with a sly smile.
“Familiar?” he asked, his chest rising and falling from the way she was grinding her hips. This woman was something else. She really knew how to use her body.
In lieu of an answer, she leaned down again and kissed him passionately. She flexed her pussy as their tongues danced together.
Richard loved everything this woman was doing. Clearly she had a lot of experience, but what she said, and how she kissed him. It was so like Nancy would kiss him. He tried to ask her about it, but her mouth continued to cover his, almost as if she didn’t want him to talk yet. His hands came up to her face but she intercepted them and pushed them back against the bed, pinning him.
At last Crystal ended the kiss and raised her face up just enough so their noses touched. “Just like old times, Richard,” she purred.
And then her face moved rapidly in front of him, as her whole body gave way to a violent shudder.
Richard’s temper flared and he tried to push up, but Crystal held him down. “Nancy, what the hell! I wanted to do this on my own!”
A wicked smile spread across Crystal’s face as she continued to fuck him very slowly. “Afraid you’re mistaken, Richard. I’m not your wife. But I’m not Crystal either.”
_____________________________________________________________________
One hour earlier.
Nancy hadn’t planned on Richard’s foray back into the dating pool taking this long. She had needs! He knew this. And birthday or no, she needed to scratch that itch. The need to wrap her legs around him had increased exponentially as she watched him successfully hit it off with an attractive middle aged woman.
It was not lost on Nancy that Crystal somewhat resembled her as she had been a decade ago. She wished she could hop her. Find out her story real quick and make sure she wasn’t wasting her husband’s time. But that’d have to wait till later. She saw that every second Crystal spent with Richard was doing wonders for his self esteem. And it was also making Nancy jealous, something she had not felt in some time. She kind of liked it, because watching her husband interact from afar with a beautiful woman that she was not possessing spiked her lust. She wanted them to go upstairs now! But since they were taking their sweet time, Nancy decided to quell some of her desire by popping out for a quickie as someone else.
In a hotel, this prospect was incredibly easy. She grabbed a bottle of champagne and went to the front desk. She hopped the man behind a computer, looked up who was in a honeymoon suite, hopped back into the bartender, and went to one of the corresponding rooms.
There was a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging from the door handle of the room she’d chosen. Nancy knocked anyway. A loud curse was heard along with the sound of giggles. A half a minute later, an attractive young man opened the door wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looked flushed and agitated.
“We put the sign on the door,” he spluttered.
“So sorry,” Nancy said as she held out the bottle of champagne. “We forgot to give this to you at the front desk as a way of congratulations.”
The man’s demeanor changed as he saw the expensive looking bottle. He reached out to take it. “Well…thanks I-”
But the words ceased as his fingers brushed the bartender’s, and a shudder spread rapidly through him. He smiled back at the bartender a moment later. “Go resume your duties. This shouldn’t take long.”
“Yes,” the bartender said vacantly, and left.
Nancy shut the door, and let the towel drop. She looked down at a semi flaccid penis that was rapidly reclaiming its hardened status. “Not bad. Now let’s see who’s the lucky recipient of this fine specimen.”
She went deeper into the room and found a gorgeous blonde wearing nothing but a smile. Nancy usually preferred being in a female during sex, but she figured what the hell. She’d show this bride a good time on her wedding night. She climbed confidently onto the bed and spread the woman’s legs.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Jackson you, you seem…more sure of yourself all of a sudden!”
Nancy smiled down at the pretty girl. She’d be letting Jackson keep his memory of what was about to transpire. “I’m just so excited to do this with you for the first time, Lilly.” And with that, Nancy thrust into her, and did her very best to last longer than five minutes. She made it to six, but redeemed herself by some fancy finger work on Lilly after. She got Lilly off three times, and then did some cuddling.
Nancy found the young man’s recovery time impressive, because she was hard again and ready to go in no time. Being in a young stud certainly had its advantages. She couldn’t help but compare Richard’s recovery time, which was 24 hours these days unless he took a pill. She didn’t like when he did that though, because they could be bad for his heart.
Nancy left a well fucked and very happy Lilly in the room to go ‘get ice’ for the champagne. She made sure to let Jackson keep the memory of what happened to be their first sexual encounter, and then hopped back into the bartender.
She surveyed the room and discovered quickly that her husband had left. She perused the bartender’s memories and discovered her husband’s phone call. He wouldn’t be in their room, but had hung up before saying which it was. She’d have to play detective. Thankfully that was very easy to do when you had complete access to someone’s mind from just a touch. She headed to the front desk again to find out where her man was.
___________________________________________________________________________
“What do you mean you’re not my wife,” Richard asked. “I…I saw you shudder, Nancy. Hell, I felt you shudder,” he added with a forced grin. He did not like whatever game his wife was playing.
The voice that came out of Crystal’s mouth was not her own, but that of a man, low and gravelly. “I miss playing the part of your wife, Richard. Did it for a few months, remember? You were a stallion back then. Always happy to fuck me every day.”
Richard knew that voice all too well, and a chill ran up his spine. “Nevyn. I thought you were dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Nevyn said coldly. “But I’m afraid it’s not that easy to kill me. Some might say, it’s impossible. Uh oh…someone’s trying to get all soft on me.”
Crystal’s voice came back as Nevyn sat up straight and began bouncing on Richard’s cock. “We can’t have that, baby. If this voice keeps you nice and hard I’ll use it from now on while we fuck. Mm…that’s right. Stay nice and hard for me. I always did appreciate your big dick.”
“What do you want?” Richard asked, furious that his penis had a mind of its own.
“To wish you a happy birthday of course.” He brought Richard’s hands up to Crystal’s chest and placed them firmly on them. “Be a dear and hold these. Big tits like these need support when I really get going. And they liked to be squeezed. I know that’s something you’ve always been willing to do.”
“Nevyn, I can’t…we can’t…”
“Oh but we can,” Nevyn said with Crystal’s seductive voice. “We certainly used to. You made love to me every night, remember? I’d be waiting for you in the most scandalous lingerie. Nancy had stopped wearing it for you back then, but I had something provocative on that showed off her body for you all the time. And we used so many toys on each other. I really loved what you did with those handcuffs. You were an animal that night. Remember when I let you cover me in whip cream that other time. Ha! I know Derek remembers that night too. Our naughty son caught Mommy in the kitchen. He had to go back to his room and think about how you were gonna lick it off me. I was so loud that night. All so Derek could hear. So it would drive him nuts. Or should I say, drive him to nut.”
“Stop…talking about stuff like that,” Richard groaned, trying his best not to cum.
“Don’t play innocent with me, Richard. All this talk about me being in your wife and making her do all those kinky things is making you harder than ever. I can FEEL it because I’m as connected with you right now as anyone can be. Let me tell you something else you might not want to hear, but I know is the truth. You loved it when I was Nancy. You loved the kinky shit I let you do to her.”
Crystal’s body sped up as Nevyn began lifting her up higher and slamming down the length of him. “And I was happy to do it, Richard. Because your dick, well, it is really great. I’ve had thousands of cocks over the centuries, and yours was easily top five. It can stretch a girl out real nice. And your stamina, damn! It took a lot ot wear you out. You gonna have that same stamina tonight for me, Richard? Gonna make me cum on your big hard dick before you blow your load inside me like you used to? I loved that by the way. You always shot out so much! Hung like a horse and cums like one too. Oh I miss it Richard. Yeah! Fuck me like you used to!”
Richard hated how much he had liked that time. He’d always loved sex, and Nevyn had hopped Nancy during a dry spell in their lives. He’d used Nancy’s body to great effect. “Shut the fuck up! Oh fuck! Fuck! You’re sick! You’re a fucking psychopath!”
All of a sudden there was a loud knock on the door. “It’s me!” a voice called.
“That’s Nancy,” Richard said as relief washed over him.
“I knew she’d be along shortly,” Nevyn said as he continued to ride Richard. “And what good timing. Tell her to come in. I’m sure she has a key with since she is probably in the body of a hotel staff member.”
It seemed to Richard that Nevyn was five steps ahead of him. That wasn’t unusual. There was a reason that Derek and Aubrey had struggled to catch him for so long.
A hard slap across his face cleared the thoughts from his mind, and then Nevyn’s voice hissed menacingly, “I said tell her to come in.”
He wanted to protect his wife, but she was immune to Nevyn’s bodyhopping abilities. She should be fine. It was him that was at risk, so he yelled, “Come in Nancy!”
Just outside the door Nancy wondered why Richard wasn’t coming to let her in himself, but…maybe the woman, whose name she’d learned was Crystal, had him tied to the bed or something. She could only hope. What a fun night this could turn out to be.
She pressed a master key card against the locking mechanism and pushed the door open. There was her husband underneath the beautiful woman, who was craning her neck to look back at her.
“Nancy,” the woman called out. “So good to see you again. Your husband’s just as good as I remember, and if I’m not mistaken, given his shortness of breath and the way he can’t help but thrust his hips under me, he’s about to cum.”
“Richard, you’d better wait until-” Nancy began with a smile on her face. But it faltered as her mind started to piece together the words Crystal had just said, and another layer of tension was added by the fearful expression on her husband’s face.
“It’s Nevyn,” he moaned. “Ah! Dammit!” His whole body tensed as his cock began to pulse.
“Oh yes!” Nevyn cheered. “That’s it. There’s so much! Let it out! Here, I’ll help you!”
Richard felt Crystal’s vaginal walls flex and milk every drop from him. He also felt Nancy watching him in a mix of shock and horror. He mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’
“It’s not your fault, honey,” she said. Then her tone turned to ice as she looked at Nevyn. “Get off him you sick freak. You’ve had your fun.”
Richard wondered if he could push Nevyn off and run. But it would only take a touch for Nevyn to possess his body. He felt his dick slide out of Crystal’s pussy, and his cum began to leak out of her onto his torso.
“I will when I’m ready,” Nevyn’s voice growled. He switched back to Crystal’s voice. “Did you ever tell your wife that you liked her more when I was possessing her?”
Richard looked at his wife pitifully “Honey, that’s not-”
Nevyn clucked his tongue. “Let’s not lie, Richard. I went through your memories when I visited your house this last week.”
“What’re you talking about?” Nancy asked.
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking!” Nevyn’s voice bellowed. He quickly switched back to the seductive tone of Crystal as he stroked Richard’s face. “I looked way back and saw that you were very happy during the time I pretended to be your wife. You never told her that, but it’s the truth. I was better at making you happy than she ever was. I was such a good wife and perfect slut for you in her body.”
“He’s lying!” Richard yelled.
“It’s fine, honey,” Nancy said. “He’s just trying to wind us up.”
Nevyn smiled. “Aw, you guys are sweet. Might as well get down to business then. I need to make a phone call to your kids. I’m sure you got a way to reach them, don’t you?”
Richard shook his head.
“Liar,” Nevyn spat. “Well, I guess say goodbye to Nancy, Richard.”
“What!” Richard blurted, and then he felt the shudder begin in his groin and spread out like lightning through his body. His face turned to Nancy. “I love you!” he said.
And then he blinked. And Richard was no longer in control.
“Get off me,” Nevyn said from underneath a now vacant eye’d Crystal. She immediately did, getting off him and standing expressionless at the side of the bed.
Nancy watched nervously as her husband’s body got up from the bed and went to dig his phone out of the pants that he’d tossed into a corner. “Just…let him go, please,” she begged.
“I will,” Nevyn said while he initiated a video call. “After I’ve delivered a message to Derek and Bri.” He walked over to the sliding glass door and opened it.
A second later, Aubrey’s face came on the screen. “Hey Derek! Dad’s calling. Happy birthday Dad!”
Another face pushed its way onto the screen, that of a pretty redhead with lots of freckles. “Hey Dad! Happy birthday! Sorry we couldn’t be there. Mom do something special for you?”
“She took me to a hotel with a great view!” Nevyn said imitating Richard’s voice and cadence flawlessly. “Wanna see?” He turned the camera so they could see the city lights below.
“Aw, that’s nice,” Aubrey gushed. “Is she there?”
Nevyn turned the phone so they could see the body that Nancy was in. The kids, used to this, called out, “Hi mom!”
“Nevyn’s not dead,” she replied grimly. “He’s here, inside your father.”
Nevyn turned the camera back to their father’s face. He’d wiped it off its smile, and traded it for a darkened scowl directed at Nancy. “Your family really sucks at letting me have any fun.”
The twins' faces had become hardened masks.
“Leave our parents alone, Nevyn,” Derek’s voice said harshly.
“What?” Nevyn said menacingly. “The way you left me alone? The way you keep trying to track me down. I know you don’t want to lock me away somewhere. You want to kill me!”
He’d shouted those last two words, making Nancy jump.
“I know you thought you had, but I’ve learned something, unlike you two and anyone else with my gene, I can’t be killed. Isn’t that great! But I CAN be annoyed at having my plans interrupted. So I’m going to respond to your attempt on my life, by an attempt on someone you love. I just think I’ll be a little more successful. Let’s find out, shall we?”
And with that, Nevyn swung a leg over the balcony railing, and leapt off.
Screams pierced the air as Nancy rang to the edge and looked down. They came from Nancy, and from the phone that Nevyn had pulled close to Richard’s chest. He held it in such a way that when his body met the ground, the phone remained intact. Aubrey’s scream could still be heard from the speaker.
In the busy downtown district, a crowd quickly formed. Nancy watched as a man approached her husband’s body. “Don’t touch him!” she yelled, but no one on the ground could make it out.
But the twins also knew the danger and understood what would come next. “Get away from him!” Derek cried.
“Stay away!” Aubrey shouted.
But all it takes is one touch.
The man touched Richard’s arm, and immediately began to shudder as Nevyn’s soul passed from their dead father, into the stranger, who then took the phone out of Richard’s hand and held it to his face.
“If you get in my way again,” Nevyn warned. “This is how it will end for all of you.”
With that, he ended the call, and walked away past the crowd, satisfied that he’d been understood.
_______________________________________________________________________
Epilogue
65 years later.
Derek sat in the passenger seat as Stephanie drove them out of Maine. They had one more stop to make before they made the long journey to headquarters. Derek hadn’t been back there since coming into possession of the mirror. That had been for his safety, and everyone else’s. At a place filled with active bodyhoppers, the mirror was sexual napalm, and the ramifications could be catastrophic. It really said something about the current state of the world that it was worth the risk.
Stephanie had assured him that all the pieces were coming together. They finally had the means to track Nevyn after he’d created a world filled with people just like him. But if Derek could just get near him, it would all be over. The world still might not be the same, but at least, if his hypothesis was right, the body swapping everyone worldwide was experiencing would finally come to an end.
He became aware that his hand was in the bag. His fingers were running along the smooth wooden handle. It called to him.
“This isn’t going to end well, you know,” Bekka’s voice said in his head.
“I know,” Derek said aloud.
“Know what?” Stephanie asked.
“Nothing,” Derek grunted. “I just talk to myself sometimes.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Stephanie gripped the steering wheel tightly as they passed a POM security vehicle. She breathed easier after she saw it continue on its way in their rearview. She reached into her pocket and took out a phone. “It’s a burner. Untraceable. Call the saved number. Someone really wants to talk to you.”
Derek took it and fumbled with the small device with his large calloused hands. He finally found the contact, and pressed it.
It barely rang when a middle aged blonde woman appeared on the screen.
“Hi Derek,” she said with a wide smile.
Despite himself, Derek smiled back. “How’d you know it was me?”
“A mother always knows.”
He nodded. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I’ve been away so long. But I’m glad it’s finally time. Ready to help set the world right, Mom?”
“I am. All of us are ready to do whatever it takes to stop Nevyn, and we can track him now thanks to Trevor. Thanks for sending him to us by the way, he’s been really great. Like, REALLY great.”
Derek tried to keep the smile on his face, but at the sound of the shapeshifter’s name, his grip involuntarily tightened on the mirror’s handle. “You don’t have to elaborate mom, I get it. It’ll be good to see all of you soon. And to finally have justice for dad.”
To be continued in Shudder: Worldwide.
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