Out Of Tensions, Out Of Binds
Welcome my lovelies!
This has been in the works for some time, and I hope that the two teasers have helped to build up some anticipation for it! Part Three of Phoebe’s story looks at her getting out of - and then into - a very sticky situation, using the skills she has to do the thing she does best.
As usual, it’s full of sex, secrets and swapping-bodies.
I hope you enjoy - all feedback is appreciated, so leave me a comment, I read them all!
Love, Danni x
All characters are, of course, above 18 years old.
CW; gender swap; mind control; gender play; body swap; questionable consent; group sex; BDSM; adultery;
~ 1 ~
I looked around that alleyway, the face I was wearing not belonging to me but feeling hot and tense as I tried not to let myself cry.
Ava’s words rang through me - the ‘blocker’ Martin had made; did she mean there was something stopping my mind from revisiting my own body? And why would Martin make something like that?
Why would he leave me so… vulnerable?
‘Ms. Wellons?’
It took me a moment for me to realise that the voice was addressing me - to the world, Sylvia Wellons. International superstar. Standing in an alleyway, looking like an idiot, holding a phone so ugly and cheap compared to her perfectly manicured hand it looked like a bad prop.
Then, I remembered who I was right now. I was in a particularly fortunate position, after all - in a position of money.
What I needed, though, was a plan. Ava had said that, in about an hour, I would be able to jump back into myself - so that meant the blocker would last about an hour. Okay. I could work with that.
I turned to Marnie - the adorable, eighteen-year old intern Sylvia had every intention of ruining, and had to dispel some impulses to use the eager little thing as a way to expel some of this tension.
Then, the phone buzzed in my hand, and we both looked down at it.
‘Is everything okay, Ms. Wellons?’ she asked, looking skeptically at the scene around us. I figured there was no use in staying out in the alley - especially not in the kind of body that might pull the public eye - and followed Marnie’s nervous lead back into the hotel.
There was a text on the phone, waiting for me - but not from the same number as the phonecall.
Head Office Basement Stole phone Don’t reply M
It all came out as one, rambling message, but there were a few things I got from it; one, Martin had somehow gotten a phone while being held captive (was he?); two, they were at his company’s HQ basement - which seemed like a strange place to do this sort of thing, but I figured after a moment that, chances are, they didn’t have the chemical facilities anywhere else. It had to be there.
Third, but most importantly, perhaps, was that Martin was okay - and he was on my side.
I let out a shaky breath as I followed Marnie back the way we came.
‘Ms. Wellons?’ Marnie’s voice was quiet as she prompted me again, her concern for her employer kind of endearing. She waited until we were almost back at the room, the journey absent from my memory as I struggled to process what was happening to my life.
I searched the memory of Sylvia Wellons, and found that Marnie was an… eager intern. I thought back to that moment in the lift, on the way down, when I had allowed myself to get all… hot and heavy, thinking I was going to drive back to Martin and fuck him using the body of a superstar. In all honesty, Sylvia’s body was aching for it. I looked at Marnie - those ginger curls pointing my eyeline to her generous chest, her chin where I had wiped something away so soft.
I sucked in a breath, and told myself Martin would be fine for now - I had an hour before I was able to do anything anyway. I had the address - and once I was able to jump, I planned to body-hop all the way there; use my ability to get Martin - and myself - out of there.
It wasn’t much of a plan, but I knew that I was no good until that blocker wore off, and Ava was expecting me back once it did - which meant that was the last thing I should do.
Marnie opened the door for me, back into the luscious apartment, and as soon as I was through, I turned and pinned her against the back of the door.
She chirped, as I loomed over her diminutive form nicely.
‘I need to relieve stress,’ I told her. ‘Do you understand?’
Marnie frowned, and nodded. ‘Yes, Ms. Wellons. What… what do you want me to do?’
I smirked - in all honesty, I just wanted to pass the time, and to get this itch out of me so I could think. Fine, yes, it might have been selfish to fuck at a time like this; but, equally, it was me who was in jeopardy as much as anyone else; surely I could risk my own safety in pursuit of a good orgasm?
My hand went to her choker, as Marnie looked up at me - the awe in her eyes undeniable. Sylvia was beautiful, and world-renowned. Marnie was… no one. A mortal, about to be ravaged by a God.
‘Take everything off except this,’ I told her, stroking the choker. ‘What you were doing earlier - I want that more, okay?’
She hesitated, and I walked away, to the couch that was facing her. I sat, enjoying the fact that Marnie was already pulling off her shirt by the time I turned to face her again. This jumper Sylvia was wearing - and nothing else - left plenty to tease the young intern with.
Marnie was blushing, now, and I felt a sense that usually Sylvia was much more… dismissive of her than this.
I was being kind. Making her feel less replaceable, more wanted. Sylvia, inside my head, wanted to have the intern just eat her slick cunt and make her cum a few times - as was the norm; use the intern until they complained or got boring, and then swap them out. I wanted… more.
I watched with hungry eyes as Marnie kicked off her clothing, clad only in underwear and her choker. She truly was something special - she had on red lingerie that was, I hoped, specially for Sylvia’s eyes. The life these women lived was… unbelievable.
‘Can I lock the doors?’ she asked, and I nodded. Slowly, making sure to give me an excellent view of her swaying arse. She clicked shut the doors to the hallway, and to the service rooms - making sure no more cleaning staff wandered in - before turning and looking at me. She was an adorable mix of sultry and nervous, a glimmer in her eyes that gave away the fact that this hadn’t happened before.
I stood, and approached her, wearing nothing but my jumper - and another person, technically - and stood before her.
‘I said nothing but the choker,’ I told her.
Marnie hesitated. ‘But… you said…’
I frowned, and scoured Sylvia’s memory - and, there, at the first time Sylvia had seduced her redhead intern, there was the instruction - I don’t care about making you feel good - I care about you making me feel good.
Ah. Selfish lover, indeed.
‘Well - tonight, you are going to strip, and you are going to crawl into that bed,’ I nodded towards the open door to the bedroom, and caught Marnie’s eyes following. ‘And I’m going to fuck you - okay?’
She swallowed, and I reached forwards, stroking the small of her back, pulling her into my arms; she whimpered as I kissed her, her hands on my hips as I took her tongue into my mouth, moaning a little as Marnie’s hand found Sylvia’s butt, slipping beneath the hem of the jumper. Her fingers scratched my lightly, and I sighed into her mouth before pulling away.
‘Bed,’ I told her, feeling the powerful nature of Sylvia Wellons - a woman who has the world at her feet - flow through me; I wasn’t usually so dominant. In fact, I often quite like to be taken - like when I had used my boss’ body to fuck my own throat, raping my own lifeless body with his cock - God, that was good.
But, equally, in that situation, I was also the one taking advantage of myself; maybe I enjoyed being in charge more than I knew…
Either way, as Marnie dropped the few strands of deep red lingerie on the living room floor and began to make her way through to the bedroom, I had almost managed to forget about Martin, and Ava, and the blocker that was stopping me from being in my own body right now.
Almost.
I followed her in, taking a moment to take in how decadent the room was; the bed was thick, dark wood, and looked old; the window was tall and rounded at the top, with thin curtains pulled over, letting a golden light spill over everything whilst keeping out prying eyes. The carpet beneath my feet was so fucking soft, and the furnishings were as equally tasteful and non-intrusive as the rest of the hotel suite had been.
And, on the clean-as-porcelain bedsheets, was the 18-year-old intern, laying on her back, watching me from the comfort of the thick goose-feather pillows beneath her sunset locks.
I approached slowly, pulling the jumper up over my hips, feeling the cool air meet my sex - Sylvia’s sex; there was a wetness between my thighs that was driving the situation, now, and I could feel Sylvia within my head admitting that, even if I let her take over right at that second, she wouldn’t stop either.
As I met the edge of the bed, I let the jumper drop, and poked at Marnie’s knees, high up. ‘Open,’ I whispered, and she gave a small whimper while she obeyed, revealing herself to me. Her pussy was, in a word, adorable - almost clean-shaved except for a slip of a red landing strip; her lips were pink and slick, her arousal likely stemming from making her famous boss cum on her tongue less than half an hour ago.
But, this was her turn.
As her knees opened, I climbed onto the bed, feeling like a leopard over its prey - feral and hungry. I climbed over her, slowly, letting my jumped stroke her sex, her belly, as I came up to her face.
Her eyes, lidded and hungry, tried to focus on mine as I loomed over her; my hands over her shoulders, my hips pressing into the backs of her thighs, her legs coming up as her hands snaked around my neck.
‘Oh, wow,’ she mumbled as I kissed her neck. For some reason, there was significant gratification in treating this teenage intern to the star treatment - pampering and pleasuring her in ways thousands would kill for.
I came up her neck, lips softly smooching her fair skin, before finding her own lips - soft and smartly made-up, she kissed back. Then, tongues slipped against tongues, as our hands became more brave in their exploration.
Beneath me, her tits pressed into the fabric of my jumper, and she whined in annoyance at the lack of contact - and I figured that I was giving her the star treatment; why stop there? So, I sat up, breaking the kiss - which earned me a soft whine from her lips - and looked down at her.
I had a moment of clarity, then, that I was wearing someone else in that moment. Not just Sylvia’s body - and not just her sex drive. This was a relationship that I was taking to a new level for her. As I pulled the jumper up and over my head, throwing it to one side without a second thought, I watched Marnie’s eyes focus on Sylvia’s tits.
I looked down, too, honestly interested to see the body of a superstar; she was near-flat, but the curve of her breasts was perfect. A god-given hand hold for some lucky teenage lesbian to hold onto - which Marnie did. Her hands began to explore upwards, sliding over my skin with fleeting touches, settling on each of those mounds like they were made of gold.
Her hands squeezed, and pawed, and slid over me, making me groan as she sat up, her face going to the left tit - in a moment, my - Sylvia’s - nipple was being serenaded by her talented tongue, and I was cradling her head as she suckled her beautiful boss’s pert, near-flat chest.
‘Stop,’ I snapped, after I’d had my fill, and Marnie pulled away. I looked down at her soft face, those big eyes peering up at me, and my heart could have melted.
Could have - if it wasn’t actually Sylvia’s Sylvia’s heart wanted to beat a little faster.
‘Down,’ I told her, and again she obeyed, lying back. Her chest, far larger than Sylvia’s offering, bounced in that gorgeous way only a heavy chest could, and I leaned forwards to show my appreciation.
As Martin, I had more than once played with my tits - he seemed to love how sensitive they were when he was inside me; I wasn’t as keen, but that wasn’t for a lack of enjoyment. I just always figured there was something better a mouth could be doing.
As I used my learned skills on Marnie, however, her noises of appreciation - those gasps and moans and wilting 'Ms. Wellons’es - could have kept my lips on her hard, pink buds for hours.
Slowly, and giving attention to each of her creases and curves, I kissed my way down her chest, the soft of her belly, until my chin was tickled by that pretty landing strip. Beneath me, Marnie moaned and writhed, messing the bed sheets as my tongue found her clit, tasting her wet, eager sex for the first time.
It was Sylvia’s first time, too - I could feel her, inside my head, reeling from being so giving, but equally unable to deny how good the intern tasted. I had a feeling today would not be the last time something like this would happen.
Her first orgasm surprised me - the tension of the tryst obviously bubbling beneath her in ways I hadn’t expected. She groaned, gripping the duvet in small fists, and I felt her thighs close around my head as she shuddered uncontrollably.
‘Fuck! FUCK!’ she screamed, before burying her face in the pillows. I pulled up, feeling her wetness drip from my nose to my chin, as she shuddered into the bedding, turning until she was almost entirely face-down.
‘I’ve… I’ve never been…’ she whimpered, her senses coming back to her. ‘No one has ever done that to me.’ Once she managed the words, her meaning came through.
She was a virgin. Or, at least, an orgasm virgin.
Me and Sylvia - together, in tandem - knew that this couldn’t stop know, then. We had to keep going. To give Marnie the best ‘first’ she could possibly have. After all, a young slut like this being fucked by Sylvia Wellons couldn’t possibly be permitted to think of her first orgasm as ‘disappointing’ - or even ‘singular’. No.
And, as soon as I felt comfortable that Sylvia wasn’t going to stop any time soon, I decided to ride that wave of firsts alongside Marnie. I wanted to be eaten to orgasm by one of the most famous women in the world.
Especially if I was almost definitely walking into some life-threatening trap in - oh - about forty minutes.
I focused, and felt that familiar feeling, and-
-and then I was beneath her.
Oh GOD, the aftershocks of that orgasm were still ripping through Marnie, her brain almost fried. Ms. Wellons, who was shifting behind us, feeling our body and stroking the back of our thighs, was so beautiful and powerful and sexy and-
‘AH!’ I moaned as I felt her tongue slide against my cunt, Ms. Wellons’ face burying into our backsides as she held our hips, moaning into our sex.
‘Fuck, you taste good,’ she cooed as her tongue explored us, Marnie’s body unfamiliar with being treated like this.
I searched her memories - her brain was hardly in a position to put up a fight - and found what I had expected.
She wasn’t a virgin, technically, but one semi-drunk night with her ex-boyfriend a month before getting this job was hardly satisfying; she barely remembered it, and he had barely rated it. He dumped her and promptly fucked another girl, plastering his ‘success’ in a load of group chats. That was when Marnie took this job, happy for work to take over her life.
Well, she’d certainly succeeded there.
Predictably, Sylvia barely missed a beat - her tongue got to work on Marnie in the most lewd fashion, following that show-stopping orgasm with a second; Sylvia’s fingers slipped inside me, as I moaned into the bedding, her thumb against my clit while her tongue fought for space. When she leaned back, fucking me and Marnie with her fingers, her hot breath made contact with Marnie’s well-and-truly virgin backdoor, and I couldn’t help but let out a purr at the thought.
Sylvia, clearly, picked up on it - as less than a second later I felt her soft fingers pulling Marnie’s left cheek as far open as she could, getting access to her untouched pucked. Her lips pecked a route from her thigh up to her tight hole, as I moaned into the pillows and rode her pleasure from peak to peak.
We came another time to Sylvia’s fingers, knowing just how to press the right buttons to have her body squirming, tits and face pressed into the bed, knees holding our backside up for loving inspection.
‘Such a pretty slut,’ Sylvia moaned before her tongue dashed across Marnie’s anus, making us freeze. The sensation was like a crack of lightning, sparking something new inside her inexperienced brain. ‘Oh, you like that?’
‘Yesss…’ I moaned, answering for her - I could feel Marnie struggling to think as everything overloaded her, too much too fast too good.
‘Yes, what?’ she asked, a note of coolness in her tone.
‘Yes, Ms. Wellons,’ I answered, and was quickly rewarded with another slow, loving lick across the backdoor. Her fingers, still embedded within Marnie’s sex, fucked us ruthlessly, thumb circling her clit and finger tips poking into her g-spot on each thrust; ‘Hah! Yes - yess - Ms. Wellons fuck - fuck me - fUCK YES!’
The orgasm crashed through us, the worries and tension of the day dripping out of me like she was wringing a wet washcloth; with shuddering limbs and a shaky breath, I turned over and saw the famous lesbian watching me like a leopard - carnivorous and in charge.
I bit my lip, unable to deny the pure sexual prowess she exuded, and unable to deny the fact that I was all too happy for her to force my legs apart, and to keep going to town on my poor eighteen-year-old, near-virginal pussy.
But, as I looked up at her, she sat back and smirked at me, before standing. She walked, hips-swaying, to a bag in the corner, and by searching through Marnie’s memories I found the contents of that bag made my chest tighten and my breath catch. She unzipped it, pulled out a nine-inch silicon thing with a beautiful curve and a decently shaped head, with a harness at the base.
Me and Marnie watched with bated breath as she pulled the contraption on, the cock looking far too good on her when it was all secured in place, hanging from her hips like a meaty weapon, made for our pleasure specifically.
‘Open,’ she told us as she approached again, and we obeyed as Sylvia knelt on the bed, between our knees, and positioned the head at our hole; she leaned down, kissing our lips softly as the head poked in, and the sheer stretch of Marnie’s poor sex around the thing told me this was going to be… intense.
‘I’m going to break you in,’ Sylvia told us, accurately spotting Marnie’s level of expertise. ‘Would you like that?’
I swallowed. ‘Yes, Ms. Wellons.’
~ 2 ~
By the time she was done with me, Marnie was well and truly no longer a virgin. Almost a full half-hour of Sylvia’s hand on her throat, hips slapping against hips, pussy stretched and lips meeting in hungry kisses.
The seventh - or eighth - orgasm had Marnie just about pass out, with me inside her, so I made the choice to jump back to Sylvia, who simply held still for a moment or two and waited for the poor redhead to wake up, before starting again.
It was… gratifying, fucking the intern until her eyes rolled, her mouth fell open in a slack scream, her hands gripping bedding and scratching lovingly at Sylvia’s legs as she was pummelled into a new way of thinking. Or, of not thinking.
Either way, it was better for me to be inside Sylvia after that, as I needed to keep my wits about me - the hour was almost up, and I needed to have a way to get to the building Martin had told me about. There were a few problems with the ‘plan’ I had come up with, of course - starting with the fact that, if I was going to body-hop from here to the secret bunker of the HQ he’d talked about, I wouldn’t be able to take the phone with me. I would be going in blind, and alone.
It also would mean that I’d have no way of knowing if avan had succeeded at doing anything. I had to assume she wanted me to steal the power, and that meant she needed me in the body - otherwise, why go to such lengths to hold me out until she could control me?
Did that even make sense? I supposed, if she didn’t need me in my body, why not just keep giving me the blocker? No, she needed me there, for some reason. Of course, I wasn’t too keen on finding out exactly what that reason was - at least, not yet.
Instead, as Sylvia rocked the thick cock into Marnie’s half-conscious body, I let my consciousness drift, looking for someone else to inhabit.
It was an odd sensation, still being attached, or within, Sylvia, and yet scoping out for people - like I was mist, seeping under a door frame, escaping but not quickly, and in desperate need of having somewhere to go.
Eventually, I found an easy target, and without much hesitation, jumped.
Frank, thirty-nine, divorced.
He was the assistant General Manager of the hotel, and he was busy. Very busy. The sort of bust that makes you go grey at thirty-nine.
At the moment, however, he was outside the room Sylvia and Marnie were occupying, his ear nonchalantly placed to the wall, as Marnie’s teen moans echoed quietly through the plasterboard. With a smile, I pulled him away, adjusting the lesser-then-average bulge in his trousers, and walked him downstairs.
I didn’t need him long - I just wanted to get close enough to the bus stop to jump onto someone moving in the right direction.
‘Frank?’ a voice called, from within one of the rooms. I turned, his instincts overriding my control for a second - in a way that, actually, was kind of impressive - and saw the forty-something cleaner looking at him.
Frank liked her - had for a while; she was Jenny. Also divorced, he hired her because she was experienced and a hard worker, and not at all because she wore a tight top to her interview, and her cleavage was something he was desperate to get a look at every day.
On a whim, I jumped.
Ah - there we go.
Jenny liked him too.
‘Dinner? Tonight?’ I had her ask.
Frank stared at her, dumbfounded. ‘I’m not sure…’ he started.
‘I’m not sure we’re supposed to,’ I let him finish. ‘But yes - I’d love to,’ I added.
She smiled. So did he.
I carried on, feeling a little better now about the day, and pulled my attention back to the task at hand.
Get to Martin.
A bus driver named Bobby was the next target, as he was heading in the right direction. When he started to turn off to the left, instead of right, into the town center-
-I leapt into Jeanie, a 70-year old who’d just gotten off. From her-
-An accountant in the back of an Uber, heading to the same working district Martin went to each day. Then-
-A security guard, working the building across from Shemmtech. Andre, his name was, and he had a stomach ache. Still, on I went-
-to a District Manager called Colin, who was in the car park between the buildings. Through his eyes, I looked at the back of the Shemmtech building - those tall grey blocks of boring grey. Even the windows looked grey.
How could a place this crap be so dark inside?
Next, I flitted to the security guard, a woman named Alice who was dealing with some pretty serious anger issues. The building was just as grey from the inside, with the hallways and carpeting giving off nothing more than a ‘usual business building’ vibe.
I hated it.
It was so… normal. Simple. Unassuming, in that capitalistic way that made you want to run as far as you could, as fast as possible, for fear of being tricked into a lifetime of pensions and meetings.
‘Al?’ a woman asked me, dressed in a similar sort of gear to me. From the tone of her voice, she’d just asked me something, and it took me a moment to scour Alice’s memory and find what it was. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to remember either.
‘Forget it,’ the woman mumbled before pushing past.
Enough of that, I thought, before shutting my eyes and searching for-
-Martin.
Oh, how I had missed the feeling of him. All masculine and soft at the same time.
I felt his recognition - he knew how it felt when I was inside his head. A flash of fear, relief, all wrapped up in one. Shit was about to get real.
Then I realised where I was, and what was going on.
The room was an observation room - one of four, all in a circle around a central area; I could see the other three one-way mirrors along the other curved walls that formed a sort of prison around a single bound figure, attached to a chair. The bulls-eye in the middle of the trap.
Me.
Phoebe.
I was there, brainless and absent, eyes glazed over and head drooping, wearing only my underwear and tied by the arms and legs to the chair in the center of the room.
Martin’s brain brought up memories I assumed he thought I would need to know - my boy was taking care of me.
Ava, the mastermind behind my entrapment, was in the quadrant - that’s what the four observation rooms were called - opposite us. To the left were Alex and Zara, sort-of prisoners, sort-of collaborators.
There were technicians, colleagues of Martins, in all four of the quadrants, including around me. Us.
In Martin’s mind I could see the truth of the last few weeks - all hidden from me until now, which makes sense. Usually when I was inside him, it was under the guise of him being inside me. Or, we’d swap, which was always fun - and I’d be in him and in him, while he was in me.
Anyway.
Weeks ago, it seemed, Ava had approached Martin under the idea of recreating the serum that made me… me. She wanted to be able to figure out how I was able to do the things I could do - but Martin had only agreed under the warning that no people would be tested on, after the person who participated after me in the original test had died.
I’d never realised - Martin had been there. Injected the serum into that person. Watched them splutter and choke on nothing, their brain burning…
God, he’d never let me see that before.
I pulled away from that memory, not wanting either of us to get upset, and instead tried to focus on the task at hand. Ava approached Martin, he said ‘only under certain circumstances’, and Ava paid him a lot of money.
But, he didn’t want to do it - Martin was the one who made the blocker. Sabotage. He intended to stop Ava with it, if she ever succeeded, or at least to throw off a study or two, making the research unusable. He was trying to stop her.
Instead, she just… powered through. She found the blocker, and hatched a plan to make it work to her advantage. Find me, block me out, and then wait until she had my body to start the physical tests, and then my mind to start the psychological ones.
After all, it wasn’t working - the trials, the tests. None of it worked. They couldn’t replicate the study, even with Martin, who’d been part of the team delivering the first round. They needed me to reverse-engineer the whole deal.
Well, I didn’t want that. Not at all. What a person like Ava would do with a power like mine… I didn’t dare think. After all, I was a pervert, and I’d absolutely crossed the line in doing what I did - but I never meant to hurt anyone.
Martin, at that point, forced a thought into my head, insisting upon it’s image inside my head - Ava had taken the blocker, too. To keep me out, whenever I was coming back; they expected me to jump into my old body, and from there they would block me in. Then, they could figure out whatever they wanted to do with me.
Except…
Martin showed me the memory; Martin took the same blocker serum Ava did. And I was able to jump into him, so…
Oh shit. Ava thinks she’s blocked, but she’s not.
Okay.
Okay, okay, okay.
Time to make a move.
I hopped, next, to Zara - apparently they hadn’t thought to give her the blocker. I stayed in the back of her head, watching from this quadrant as Ava stepped through a doorway to Zara’s right, towards the brainless body I was inhabiting.
‘Any moment now,’ she announced, and I felt a thrill of fear run through Zara. She didn’t want to be here - she wanted to help me. She wanted Alex to die.
One thing at a time.
Instead, inside her, I stepped forwards until we were almost at the glass, looking in on Ava. She was staring at the empty vessel of me, a syringe in her hand, still in a stunning work dress that made her look just annoyingly hot.
Then, a thought appeared in my head. Or Zara’s head.
I’d love to see her get taken down a notch.
I hid a smirk in the back of Zara’s mind, and jumped.
~ 3 ~
When I blinked awake, the light hit me like a train. The straps of the chair were harsh against my wrists, and I could feel the strain of my half-awake mind struggling to wake up.
But I wasn’t staying.
Even as I looked up, I saw the blurry face of Ava, I knew I had to act fast. The syringe in her hand moved towards my arms, and-
-as I sank the syringe into her arm - my own arm - those big doe eyes blinked up at me. It was always interesting, watching my own face make expressions I would never make in the mirror. I supposed, unless you went into acting, there weren’t many situations in which you’d see dawning horror on your own face.
And, as I sank the plunger, and watched Ava’s bound mouth as she tried to yell or scream or whatever else, I felt an odd sort of rush go through me.
She was in my body. Which meant that, whatever I wanted to do to her, I had free range. It was like when I had my boss fuck my own throat - it wasn’t forced if I was forcing myself. The fact that Ava would be inside my body to experience it was just a cherry on the cake.
Then, I felt an unexpected feeling.
A… wetness.
Between my legs. Her legs.
Ava was getting off on this!
The ridiculousness of the situation rolled through me - not only was Ava trapped inside the body she was attempting to use for scientific nonsense, but she was also wet enough to make me think this more than just a scientific venture for her.
‘There we go,’ I said as I pulled back, realising that, while I suddenly had all of the power, I needed to watch my step.
Shortly afterwards, a woman in a white plastic-y suit came out of the last quadrant, wheeling in behind her some sort of apparatus, covered in tubes and pumps. In the echoes of Ava’s mind, the physical shape of some of her memories presented to me.
This was how she was going to take my blood.
All of it.
Plus, brain fluid, spinal fluid… fuck, she was going to drain me. Wring me out like a sponge.
‘Stop,’ I told the woman, and she paused, looking up at me. ‘I’ll do it. Everybody out.’
She looked at me, frowning. ‘Ms-’
‘NOW!’ I yelled, and she straightened, obeying quickly - she put the needles down on the tray atop the pumps and tubes, and turned heel. ‘Get the civilians out - and everybody should be gone in the next thirty seconds. I can’t trust ANY of you!’
I listened to the scuttling and moving of people in coats, and after a while I felt like there was quiet.
‘Martin?’ I asked, and thankfully he’d seen what was happening, and had stayed; he stepped out of the doorway with a hopeful look on his face, and his hands in his pockets. Even if he knew it was me, it was still Ava’s body - Ava’s face. I could imagine that would be… disconcerting.
‘Phoebe,’ he said in a sigh. ‘God, I thought it was over.’
I gave a laugh, and ran to him, pulling him into a hug. The feeling of his hands around me was… everything.
‘Me, too,’ I mumbled, not used to being taller than him; Ava was beautiful, and busty. Martin had to pull himself from the generous chest of his superior before looking at the ‘Phoebe’ strapped down and gagged.
‘That’s Ava?’ he asked.
I nodded. ‘That it is.’
He gave a nervous smile, before steeling. ‘Prove it,’ he said.
I tried not to be hurt - it made total sense for him not to trust someone with Ava’s face. An irrational part of me wanted to tell him off - what do you mean? Can’t you just tell it’s me?! - but that wasn’t fair. He’d been through a lot. More than he liked me to know.
‘Ask me something,’ I told him. ‘Anything.’
He thought, frowning at me. ‘That day in the cafe, when you told me about your power. We got the bus home - what number was it?’
I paused, confused. ‘We… we didn’t get the bus? It was night, and I got you a taxi.’
At that, Martin’s demeanor softened, and his hand reached out to hold my arm. ‘So - you got rid of everyone else; what now?’
'Now, I said, allowing some less-than-forgivable thoughts to enter my mind. ‘Now I do to her what she was planning on doing to me.’
Martin looked at me, a note of fear in his eyes. ‘What do you mean, Phoebe? She was going to try and copy your ability-’
‘No,’ I said, tapping Ava’s pretty temple. ‘She was hoping that would work; she was fully ready to drain me of pretty much everything, Martin. Brain fluid, spinal fluid - a fucking dissection was on the table.’
I looked down at her, inside my body, bound and terrified.
‘That’s not happening,’ he said, a hardness in his voice.
I laughed. ‘Well, no, of course not. But, you should feel this,’ and, as quickly as I could, I grabbed his hand, hiked up Ava’s smart dress, and pressed his fingers against her sex. The sensation of something rubbing against her sent a warm shiver through me, and Martin yanked back his hand quickly in shock - before realising why I’d done it.
‘Are you… wet?’
‘No - she was like this when I got here,’ I said. ‘She likes this, Martin. She likes the idea of having this power - to use people. So, I figure, if she likes it, she can have it.’
Martin looked from me to her - the Ava in Phoebe’s body. ‘Have what, exactly?’
‘You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to have a go on this?’ I asked, stepping back. Then, with a breath to steady my nerves, and a meeting of eyes between me and Ava, I pulled up the bottom of her smart dress, rolling it up, and pulling it off.
The air was a lot colder without a layer between my skin and the well-ventilated area.
‘Oh,’ Martin said, looking at me - at her. Only then did I really realise that Ava wasn’t just wet as anything - but that the pants Martin’s fingers had slapped against was the only underwear Ava had been wearing.
‘Hah,’ I sighed, as my nipples tightened against the cold air, eye level with Martin. ‘Shit,’ I said, looking at the reflection on the one-way mirror. ‘Ava you keep it tight. Looking good.’
‘Hmph!’ she grunted from beneath the binds, struggling to burst out - but she knew as good as anyone did that there was no chance of that. She could run a company, have access to all the scientific wonders she could get her hands on - there was no way to get around the fact that she was locked in stainless-steel cuffs, and gagged like a pig.
‘What should we do,’ I said, stepping up to Martin, who looked like a deer in headlights. I held his hand, giving him a squeeze. ‘Hey - it’s still me, okay?’
He nodded, and I pulled his hand softly up to Ava’s breast. He let out a shaky sigh, and I sighed as he took to her, rolling the nipple between his fingers, palming the soft of her beautiful tits as Ava, trapped within my own pretty head, was forced to watch.
I stared into her eyes as the horror dawned on her - I was going to let Martin fuck her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
‘She feels good,’ Martin sighed, and I smiled.
‘You like that?’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘I can’t tell if it’s, like, the rush of fondling my boss, or the fact that I know she isn’t inside that head right now, but… yeah. I like it.’
‘Good,’ I purred, tugging his hand down. His digits slipped down my stomach, making me suck in a breath at the sensation of his fingertips heading south.
‘HRNN! HMPHH!’ Ava complained, watching helplessly as Martin’s fingers dipped into her underwear, feeling the slightly-slick pubic hair she was sporting.
‘God,’ he sighed. ‘You’re so wet.’
‘I am,’ I purred, resting my hands on his face, lovingly holding him as his finger slipped inside, easy and unchallenged. I wondered, for a moment, how many men Ava had fucked, and the answer presented itself happily, her brain now comfortably in ‘sex’ mode.
I bit my lip, as the half-formed memories of cocks filtered through my mind; some thick, some thin; long and short; satisfying, disappointing. She had spent decades riding her way through Saturday nights, through job performance meetings.
Martin’s digit back to fuck me, Ava’s slick pussy eagerly accepting his talented movements, even as we stood awkwardly in this cold room. And it was sort-of awkward - what I would have done for a bed at that point. Hell, even a cushion. Something to kneel on.
Oh, that’s right. I was supposed to be humiliating Ava, and there was nothing she’d hate more than that.
So, I tugged Martin’s hand, his finger slipping out of me, and I sighed with disappointment, before going to the buttons on his shirt.
‘Oh,’ he muttered as Ava’s hands slipped under the material, sliding against his chest lovingly as I undressed him. Fuck, it felt good to touch him again.
I pulled his shirt off him, before dropping to my knees before him; wearing Ava’s face, this must have been a sight for him - her domineering features, so sharp and assertive, now at waist-height, silently begging for her mouth to be filled.
‘Can I suck you?’ I asked, using her voice like it was cream on the dessert - and it worked. Martin’s bulge throbbed beneath his trousers, as my hands travelled down his hips, lightly brushing over the outline of his cock. ‘Please? Sir?’
He smiled down at me. ‘You’re so bad,’ he smirked.
I bit my lip. ‘I promise to be good, sir,’ I whined, pursing my lips, making a doe-eyed face as good as I could manage. ‘I’ll be a good slut for you - I’ll suck your cock, make you cum on my face, let you fuck me however you want, as many times as you want - please, sir, I’ll be so good.’
I popped open his belt, and his bulge immediately tried to escape; I took it in my palm, rubbing him through the fabric a little with Ava’s hand, looking up at him.
‘Do you like me here, on my knees?’
He nodded.
‘You want to fuck your boss, Martin?’
‘Fuck, yes.’
‘You want to make me pay for how bad I’ve been?’
‘Yes…’
‘You want to fuck me until I cum on your cock?’
‘Yes, Ava…’
I smiled, enjoying how his cock throbbed when he thought of it - but, I figured it was time to get to business. So, with a glance to Ava - the real Ava, trapped outside of her body, watching this travesty take place just out of reach - to ensure she could see, I reached into Martin’s boxers, and pulled out his cock. Hard and thick and ready for action, I tugged lightly on him, pulling back the foreskin, before taking the head into my mouth. It was delightfully familiar - the shape, the heat, the strength - but, with Ava’s tongue, there was a new sort of venom to it.
He hated her. He had her beneath him, sucking his cock. With any luck, I would be able to get him to hate-fuck me, take me like a whore, all while Ava watched, unable to do anything but grimace and listen and secretly wish it was her.
Giving her a show, and Martin a treat, I worshipped his cock like a porn star.
I licked from balls to tip, before taking him balls-deep in one thrust; Ava’s apparent lack of a gag reflex was an… interesting sensation, as Martin’s cock vanished into my throat, making us both moan and grunt. Martin wrapped his fist in her hair, thrusting into his bitch boss’s throat as I gagged and spluttered on his length, loving every fucking second.
‘Yes, fuck, yes, take it - take it, Ava, take my fucking cock,’ Martin moaned, using me like a toy - a slutty, middle-aged, gorgeous, business-bitch fuck toy for him to use.
‘Glk-glk-glk-glk’, I responded, choking on his cock as he enjoyed her.
Suddenly, he yanked my head back by the hair, and I gave him the best fuck-me eyes I could manage.
‘Ruin me,’ I told him.
Martin obliged.
~ 4 ~
‘FILL ME! FUCKING FILL ME UP!’
I screamed the words, unable to think of anything else as Ava’s sex-addled mind struggled to hold onto reality. It was… addictive, being in here. The woman was insatiable - the kind of person whose life was so stressful and uptight, and she was so used to having to fight tooth-and-nail to be taken seriously as a professional, rather than as a woman, that when she let loose, fuck did she let loose.
Marin had her pinned against one of the one-way mirrors, and I had the treat of staring into her unkind eyes as they rolled and glazed over.
Martin was ferocious - his disdain for his boss, and his happily pummelling of her wet cunt went happily together, until my tits were leaving sweaty marks on the glass, nipples hard and dragging against the surface.
One of his hands was gripping my neck as he choked her, fucking her ruthlessly in a way I’d never known from him before, his other hand on my hips, holding her in place as he fucked her from behind.
‘Shit-shit-shit,’ he panted, as I could feel how close he was.
And, in a moment of particular cruelty, I made a call.
‘Fuck me like you hate me,’ I told him. Then-
I flitted back to my own body, bound in that chair, arms and legs tied down, mouth gagged, eyes laser-focused on the scene before me. I watched with a mixture of glee, lust and sadism as Ava realised what was happening - her body overloading her brain in that moment, after having grown more and more horny while locked inside me - and, judging by the slickness of my own pussy right now, she was desperate for it - all of a sudden being fucked into the wall.
‘Fuck!’ she screamed, as Martin choked her, holding her in place as she moaned into the glass, breath hot and steamy against the reflective surface, while Martin refused to give her any mercy. ‘Oh God - Nnng! HAHHH!’
I watched as she locked eyes with me in the reflection, before her eyes rolled, her mouth fell open, and she came on Martin’s cock as he hate-fucked her from behind. His hips slapped into her pert buttocks a few more times as she groaned wordlessly into the glass, hating herself almost as much.
‘Yes,’ Martin hissed through gritted teeth as he came, slamming himself deep inside her shuddering backside. ‘Fuck, yes, take my fucking cum…’
Then, after a moment for her to recover, but not enough to let her start speaking, I swapped back-
-turned, and kissed him as deeply as I could manage. Ava’s tongue delved into his mouth as his cum dripped from her used sex, our hands exploring each other as readily and as bravely as we fancied.
‘Thank you,’ I mumbled between kisses. ‘Thank you sir for fucking me so well…’
‘You’re welcome,’ he smiled, pulling away. ‘As… nasty as this is, I can’t help but feel that she deserved it.’
I agreed - and knowing that she would always have that memory, of feeling her cunt being filled with Martin’ cum as she moaned, enjoying each second as he made her orgasm like a slut made it feel all the better.
The bitch definitely deserved it.
‘Do you know how to delete all of the data she has? All of it?’
Martin nodded, quickly turning back to business. ‘I, uh… yes. I can burn the hard-drives - what she was working on was kept on only a few servers, for security purposes. You’re inside her head - are you able to see passwords, things like that?’
I nodded. ‘Easily.’
Martin went to get his trousers, pulling on his underwear sheepishly. ‘Then you can get me in, and I can do the rest from there. What about, you know. Her.’
He nodded to the bound Ava, trapped within the body of Phoebe.
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘I’m sure I can think of something. For now, though, I think I can do a little more damage to her reputation. Let’s get this shit deleted first, though.’ I started to move towards the door, when Martin’s face made me pause. ‘What?’
‘You… you’re not getting dressed?’
I smirked, and shrugged. ‘Like I said - I’m sure her reputation can take a few more hits before I’m done here. She tried to kill me, after all.’ I pushed on the door, and it opened obediently. ‘You coming?’ On that last word, I held eye contact, and felt a little rush go through Ava’s body - fuck, she really was a slut.
Part of me wanted to let Ava back into her own body, so I could force her to experience this with me, but right now there was too much risk for that. First, we had to delete the data. Then, I could have some more fun.
Martin passed me, carefully not taking too much time to look Ava’s nude, sweat-sheened form up and down, and headed into the observation rooms. On his way past, I patted his butt, and he grinned over his shoulder.
Oh, he likes this a lot more than he lets on.
He walked through the quadrant, pressed on the back wall, and the damn thing slid open to reveal the hallway beyond - all white light and linoleum flooring.
‘People will… ask questions,’ he warned.
‘I want them to, but only of her,’ I said. ‘If you don’t want the naked boss trailing after you like a sexy lap dog, tell me now.’
He thought about it for a moment, then quickly jogged back into the circular room, the gagged Phoebe-Ava yelling at him through her forcefully closed mouth. He grabbed the dress I had discarded on the floor, and brought it to me. ‘Who gives a fuck what anyone here thinks - wear this until we’re past the lobby, so you don’ get arrested, but… after this, me and you are using the money Ava paid me to betray you, and we’re finding somewhere far away, deal?’
I nodded. ‘Deal.’
Then, I took his hand, and he led me out into the building,
Through the tight corridors we went, and not a person was to be seen. ‘Where is everyone?’ I asked.
‘You sent everyone who was down here home,’ Martin reminded me. ‘But the servers aren’t down here - you’ll be effectively in public.’
I smiled. ‘Once we’ve found and burned the data or whatever, can you think of anyone who would want to hate-fuck Ava like you did back there?’
A slightly guilty face came over him at that question. ‘I think most of the guys and half of the women in here would ruin her, if given the chance.’
I considered it. ‘Maybe we should send out an email company-wide of Ava getting fucked in the basement, smiling and asking for every employee to come down and give her a go. Then, you can gag her, I’ll swap back to the real me, and we can make a hasty exit.’
As I finished my thought, we stepped into the lift, the metal colder on my bare feet than the linoleum had been.
‘That would be… hot as hell,’ Martin admitted. ‘But first, let’s find those servers.’
He passed me the dress, and I pulled it on.
Still lacking underwear underneath, with my face sloppy with cum, and barefoot, it wasn’t much of a disguise - but it would have to do. As the doors slid open, and Martin walked with me through the lobby, quickly turning away from the public-facing part of the area, through a double-doorway, and out of sight.
Back here, the corridors were actually tighter than they had been in the converted basement-of-torture, and I for a moment wondered how on earth Ava had managed that, before realising that while she spent a decent amount in the basement, there weren’t many excuses for her to come down to the servers, which meant she couldn’t give a shit about the building planning for the techies.
Bitch.
‘This way,’ Martin said, leading me past an open door of technicians - all male - who watched me pass with a question in their eyes. One of them, a little louder than they should have, voiced it when they must have assumed I was out of ear shot, down the corridor.
‘What was on her face?’
I let myself enjoy that as Martin hurriedly opened a doorway with a padlock, and let us in. It was cold - cooled to keep the computers running smoothly, and dark too. A shiver ran up Ava’s spine, and I felt her nipples tighten against the fabric of her dress, and had to suppress the urge to see what Martin was capable of in round two. We’d have plenty of time for that, I knew.
‘Here,’ he said, stopping at the main terminal - a smaller-than-expected screen with thick black wire-organisers sprouting off in every direction behind the desk, into the walls, and then into the rows and rows of data banks around us.
I sat, and searched Ava’s brain for what was needed. In a moment, I had her password, and entered it, before stepping back and letting Martin get to work ruining whatever he could ruin. Because it was Ava’s account, too, there was no alarm to sound, either. Nobody in the building was permitted to know what she was up to, and that included there being effectively no trace of this action - not without a lot of data trawling and weeks worth of auditing information first. By the time this became a problem for Ava, we would be long-gone.
‘Okay,’ he muttered as he tapped away, streams of code pouring down the screen as I watched, unable to take any of it in quick enough to even access Ava’s knowledge of it.
‘Are you good?’ I asked. ‘I have an idea… oh, and we should have a safeword.’
‘Safeword?’ he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me as I pulled the chair to him, letting him sit.
‘So, in an hour or so, you can take the gag out of my mouth, and know it’s me, not Ava.’
‘Won’t you just be able to tell me?’ he asked.
It was a sensible question for anyone assuming I was staying with them to ask. But I wasn’t staying - I had some places to go, people to do, videos to make.
‘I have something to do,’ I said. ‘When you ungag me, I’ll say ‘Martin you sexy bastard’ - got it?’
He smiled, though it was tinged with a hint of confusion. ‘Okay, got it. Just… be safe, okay?’
I nodded, standing, and turned to leave. ‘Martin…’
I realised, as his eyes locked on mine, waiting perfectly patiently for me, that I was about to tell him I loved him. Only, I didn’t want those words to come from this mouth. Ava didn’t get that. I would tell him as me.
‘I’m always safe,’ I said, half-joking, and left before he could challenge me on the fact that this was clearly not what I was going to say at first.
The door slid shut behind me, and I strutted along the corridor like I owned the fucking place. To be fair, the person I was inside did, in fact, own the place. Through fucking-upwards, and genuine ingenuity, as well as a helping of daddy’s money - and some well-off ‘daddies’ helping out, no less - Ava had built this place up from the ground. A hub of biochemistry and, apparently, torture.
Still. She deserved a bit of punishment - more, certainly, than the loveliest man on earth having his way with her pussy. She needed something… harsher.
I turned into that meeting room, finding a few less people than earlier - all still guys within fucking-age - sitting to attention around the conference table. As I stepped in, I turned, locked the door behind me, pulled down the blind, and turned to face them.
‘Anyone in here married?’ I asked. One, the oldest of six guys in there, put his hand up.
‘Me, Mrs-’
‘Ava,’ I corrected him. ‘Good. You, get your phone out and start recording. The rest of you, do you hate me?’
The married guy pulled out his phone, and fiddled with it for a moment, happy for the distraction so he didn’t have to answer the question. The rest didn’t know what to do, or what to say.
So, to give them a little taste, I gripped the bottom of Ava’s dress, and pulled it up and over. The cum still smeared on my features was warm against my cheek as the dress dragged it across me.
Once it was off, I threw the fabric to the floor, presenting Ava’s body to these guys - the five who were going to fuck me - and I could see in their eyes they were absolutely going to fuck me. They drank me in, and I felt a rush go through me, of this totally taboo thing I was doing - giving myself to strangers, daring them to take me however they wanted - only with no chance of consequences.
It was… addictive.
When none of them moved, I decided to take it into my own hands. I stepped up to the closest guy, maybe twenty years old, and turned him in his chair so he was facing me.
‘Be honest. What do you think of me?’
‘I… I don’t-’ he stammered. It was honestly kind of cute.
‘Do you think I’m a bitch? An uptight rich woman who doesn’t feel anything?’ I dropped to my knees before him, and stroked the inside of his thigh - his bulge was impressive. ‘Well, I feel this. And I think I should apologise to you. All of you,’ I added, looking up over the table. There was a moment of silence, when none of them knew what to say.
‘If you want to fuck me - and I do want you to fuck me, I want you to tie me up,’ I ordered, ‘and take turns. Invite people down if you want - let them take out every shitty thing I’ve done to them on my pussy - my face - my arsehole. My body is yours to abuse.’
At that, the guy before me popped open his belt, and pulled out his seven inches of hardening manhood.
‘Good boy,’ I said, before taking it into my mouth, as deep as I could.
~ 5 ~
It took him a minute or two to get into it - but being approached by your boss like that can be unnerving. Once he felt Ava’s tongue lovingly tasting the underside of his cock, though, he seemed to get into it. Hand in my hair, he moaned as he thrust up into my throat, abusing her total lack of a gag reflex to hilt himself in his CEO’s throat. His pubic hair tickled at my nose, and the musk on him was somewhat intoxicating, making me feel dirty. I was this random employee’s cock-warmer, and he loved it almost as much as I did.
After that, the others started to get involved more, too. They pawed at me, Ava’s naked flesh warm to their touch, and I moaned and whined as a finger slipped inside me; wetted by Martin’s cum and Ava’s unending arousal, it slipped into me as the others surrounded me, cocks out, demanding attention.
I sat up with a grin, and swapped to swallowing the long but thin cock of some poor sod in a blue shirt and ill-fitting trousers, who gasped as I hilted him like I was God herself. Maybe to him, I was. Ava liked to think of herself that way, after all.
I stroked two cocks in my hands as they surrounded me, five cocks of varying length, girth, colour, heat. I took turns tasting them all, feeling how they fit in Ava’s mouth, smelling each man’s cologne as they tried to believe this was really happening. All the while, the married man’s camera didn’t falter, and I knew this was likely to cause an issue in his marriage. I probably should have felt worse about that than I did, but it was hard to concentrate.
‘Right,’ one said, with the air of a man tired of waiting, as he hiked me up by the armpits. He lifted me up onto the conference table, on my back, and looked down at me with hunger in his eyes as he rested his cock at Ava’s wet folds, dragging himself across me in a way that drove me wild.
‘You ready, bitch?’ he asked.
‘Yessir,’ I said, as sweetly as I could manage. ‘Let me make it up to you, take it out on mEE-!’
The fat head of his cock slid in, and I saw stars as he thrust himself in deep in one push. His balls rested against my ass as the fabric of his suit trousers slipped against Ava’s inner thighs. He had some facial hair, and wasn’t altogether unattractive, but he was so far beneath the standard that Ava kept herself to that it made it all the more exciting. He wasn’t overweight, but the bit of chub he had made his belly rest against my own as he pulled out, before thrusting in again, fucking me atop the table.
Quickly, another guy came up behind me, at the edge of the table; the two of them worked together to push me forwards, so my head hung back off the table - just at the perfect level to open my lips and accept the fat, red head of his cock. The taste was hot and heavy, and the sound of his groan as he pushed in, settling his balls against Ava’s nose was stunning.
‘Fuck,’ I heard one of them grunt, as a hand grabbed my wrist and led me to grip his cock. I stroked him like an obedient slut, basking in their growing desperation to fuck their awful boss into submission.
‘Oh, she’s so wet,’ moaned the guy fucking me, as he sped up - his cock ploughed into me as his desperation built, each pounding thrust forcing a moan from me, only for that to be lost beneath this guy’s balls.
My nose in his taint, I groaned as I felt his cock throb, as a fat, hot load was shot down my throat. He held there for a moment, hand on my neck as he came into it, sharp thrusts marking his shuddering jolts as he enjoyed the moment. As he pulled back, I spluttered and groaned as his cum trailed from the tip of his cock, painting white lines across my features.
Soon enough, another took his place - a smaller weapon, but just as eager to make its mark. As he got to work, eager hands gripped Ava’s tits, teasing her nipples as I was fucked, surrounded by eager cocks and hungry men.
My cunt was filled with hot cum, and the sensation of being filled with a stranger’s cum sent me over the edge - I came like a slut, moaning around a cock as several hands held me in place on the table, shaking and groaning.
Once he pulled out, I was tugged off the cock in my throat, flipped onto my front, and mounted from behind. A hand in my hair directed me back to swallowing a cock as I was spit-roasted atop the table. The hard top wasn’t kind on Ava’s knees and elbows, but I didn’t care much - I wouldn’t have to live with that pain, after all.
I wouldn’t have to live with any consequences of this.
The third man to cum did so by pulling out of my throat and spraying my face in thick white as I knelt before him - tongue out, eyes closed.
‘Shit,’ he moaned as he left rope after rope all over me, the release this was giving him impossible to describe. ‘Gary, you getting that?’ he asked.
‘All of it,’ the married man replied, his voice a little shaky - giddy, almost. ‘Every fuckin’ thing.’
‘Good,’ I moaned as I was fucked from behind, bouncing back on the pleasantly thick cock currently having it’s go. ‘Make me regret this, boys,’ I told them. ‘Get me fucking pregnant.’
At that, the guy bucking into Ava’s creamy pussy came, filling me even further with hot, thick cum - the serotonin was… overloading me. I’d never been fucked stupid before, but I could feel it happening, now. Like, if I wasn’t careful, I might slip out, and let Ava back in early.
So, between cocks, I sat back and looked at the room - six guys, only one of whom was able to fuck me and hadn’t.
‘Before you go,’ I told him, ‘I want you to tie me up. Nice and tight, to the table - okay?’
He nodded, erection in-hand as they all got to work. The conference table split into smaller segments, and they pulled the two outside sections away. Over the last one, I was pushed, arse-up as I bent over, my holes glistening and ready to be invaded. My face rested on the wood, at a perfect throat-fucking level, and once we were all happy with how everything was arranged, they started pulling off their ties.
My ankles were strapped to the legs of the table, pulled wide and firmly held; my hands were pulled back behind my back, forcing Ava’ tits into the cold of the tabletop. I was tied at the wrists, and again at the elbows, giving me nowhere to go.
‘Perfect,’ I moaned. ‘Oh fuck - yes, boys - perfect.’
They smiled, genuinely happy with themselves. They had turned their CEO into a fuckable work of art, all curves and holes and streaks of white.
‘Now,’ I said, ‘Put my dress under my head, and gag me.’
‘G-gag you?’ one of them asked as another fetched my discarded dress, lifting my chin to slide it beneath my jaw.
‘I’m your toy,’ I said. ‘I give you - and anyone else you invite to come down here - to do what you will with me; just don’t take out the gag. All those nasty words, taken away… doesn’t that sound good?’
I felt a cock, hard and hot, press against my thigh, out of sight, as Gary - the married one - pulled off his tie, and stuffed into my mouth.
A thumb slipped into my cunt, quickly followed by a cockhead. I moaned, eyes rolling as I looked up into Gary’s phone, nodding and whining and moaning as one of them got to work fucking their bitch boss.
‘Give Mark a call - she fired him last week, bet he’d love to have a go on her,’ someone said.
‘Didn’t she deny all the marketing guys raises, too? Get them down here.’
On and on, they listed people Ava had fucked over, as I moaned into Gary’s tie and took the fucking just a little longer.
Then, as I heard the door open, and confused voices ask worried questions, I wondered if this was all about to fall apart.
Then, I heard a zipper unzip, and felt cum splash up my back, as a new cock readied itself at Ava’s wet hole.
‘Who else is coming?’ I heard someone ask.
‘Everyone,’ Gary answered.
Then, as the cock slipped in-
-I swapped back.
It was jarring, being suddenly sat-up, and inside my own body again. It was… slightly uncomfortable, even. Which probably wasn’t a great sign.
The initial unease wore off, however, as I thought about Ava, tied up and gagged and currently getting fucked senseless by the entire company, and felt my own wetness seeping into my trousers - Ava really had been enjoying it.
On a level, I hoped she still was.
I settled there, readjusting to my old body for a while. Old body, I thought, with a guilty laugh. It wasn’t old - it was mine. But, then again, this ability had opened up the world to me. I could be anyone. Make anyone do anything. I hadn’t wanted to be anything great - all of that talk with Martin about being the President had made my stomach turn, all those months ago.
Now, though, having taken a monster who was happy to kill for power, and turned her into a plaything for her abused underlings… there was something cathartic about this. Using my power for good, if you could call it that.
I was more than happy to go back to my quiet life - but I couldn’t ignore this feeling. That I had not only saved myself, but I had done something good.
My mind turned to Zara, and how Alex treated her, and the fact he had betrayed me and brought me here, and likely threatened her in the process. Before the day was up, I was going to do something to fix him, too. To give Zara the justice she deserved.
After a few minutes, the door cracked open behind me, and I heard someone enter.
‘Phoebe?’ Martin’s voice sounded.
I grunted in response, so happy to see him, with these eyes, that I almost started crying on the spot. It was strange, I thought, how being in different bodies, different minds, affected the way I felt towards people. Ava’s mind had made me ruthless - to her own detriment. Phoebe’s mind, my own, made me just want to be held.
Martin pulled down the gag Ava had given me.
‘Martin you sexy bastard,’ I said, half-laughing, and he grinned. With a few button-presses, the binding slid away, and I moaned in relief as I was able to bend my joints for the first time in hours.
‘Get me home,’ I told him, and Martin nodded, helping me up. I cringed a little at the wet spot I left on the seat - a symptom of Ava’s sadistic mind watching herself get fucked silly, and my own body for being a bit of a sex-pest.
‘Can I ask,’ Martin asked as he helped me to the exit. ‘What, exactly, did you do to Ava?’
I shrugged. ‘I gave her what she deserved.’
Martin raised an eyebrow at me as we passed through the doorways, tracing back that route to the lobby. ‘Is that so?’
I nodded. ‘Yup.’
‘Because I got a text a minute ago,’ he said, holding up his phone, saying Come to the Computing Management conference room F3 for some fun; bring a friend.
Attached was a photograph of Ava’s face, cum-slathered and lustful, hooded eyes and wet lips inviting us to join.
Martin looked down at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. ‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘What for?’
‘For, you know. Having sex with others. It’s not fair on you.’
Martin shrugged as we got into the lift. ‘I don’t mind too much - especially when mornings like what happened with Zara happen… another few of those, and you’re forgiven.’
‘Oh?’ I asked, as the doors slid shut. ‘Speaking of Zara…’
~ 6 ~
Pulling up outside the block of flats I’d lived in for so long felt strange. After so long inside other people’s heads - Sylvia, then Ava - those worlds had become so real to me. Their lives felt like they were mine - perhaps to the point where they had started to offset my own life.
Either way, the fact that Alex’s car was parked, clear as day, told me he had come back with her, and he wasn’t afraid any more. Whatever fear I had put in him, Ava had managed to get rid of. Which wouldn’t do.
That wouldn’t do at all.
‘He might get physical,’ Martin said, concern written all over him. His hand on my knee as he parked up, his eyes warm and wide. ‘I… after everything today, I don’t think you should go in. Not as you, anyway.’
I frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I just… I would feel more comfortable if you, you know, used me. My body. So, if anything happens, you’re safe.’
‘I am safe,’ I told him.
‘I know,’ Martin sighed. ‘But… for me? I’ve seen you tied up, blood drawn, trapped and lifeless… I don’t want to see you anything close to that, ever again, do you hear me?’
I nodded. ‘Okay… okay. I understand.’ I knew it would break me to see him like that. If the roles were reversed, I could imagine myself requesting the same thing. ‘You really want me to share with you?’
He nodded. ‘That way, if you jump into him to do anything, I would still be in here, you know?’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Martin…’
‘Yeah?’ he asked, looking at me as he unbuckled, turning off the engine.
‘I… I love you.’
His face twitched, and I wondered how it sounded to him - if he’d heard that before, if he had said it to anyone else before. If he knew I hadn’t. If he felt it back.
Instead of an answer, his hand found the back of my head, and he pulled me in for a deep, sensual kiss that made my heart flutter. His fingers fed through my hair, as his lips and tongue devoured mine.
When we pulled apart, I was breathless.
‘I love you too, Phoebe,’ he said, a half-smile on his stupid face. ‘Now - let’s go teach this fucker a lesson, and get back to our life, okay?’
I kissed him again. ‘Fuck yes.’
I watched the now-empty Phoebe fall into the chair, as me and Martin shared his body. Together, in unified thought, we opened the door and locked the car behind us, before looking up at the building before us.
‘We’re moving out after this,’ I said, using his mouth.
‘Agreed,’ he said. Anyone listening in must have thought he was insane.
Together, we buzzed into the building, and scaled those steps, until we could see Alex and Zara’s door.
We listened for a moment, before knocking - but there was no sound inside of voices, or movement. Nothing at all. When we did knock, there was no answer. Not a scuffle, or a hushed shh. We knew their car was outside, but this didn’t actually guarantee anything; Alex could have forced her into an Uber or something; or, maybe Zara had made a run for it, and Alex was chasing her down.
Either idea made my stomach turn a little. Or, Martin’s stomach.
Not knowing what else to do, we went to our flat and let ourselves in, locking the door safely behind us.
‘Should I be myself again?’ I asked as Martin we turned on the kettle, the cogs of his brain whirring like nothing else.
‘Oh? Oh! Yes,’ he said, using the same voice as me. ‘Sorry. Yes - can you jump from here?’
‘See you soon,’ I said, before letting myself slip from him-
-back into my own form.
I sat up in Martin’s car, and cricked my neck, letting out a groan, before going to open the door.
As I did, though, I looked out and saw Alex’s car again - and I could see movement inside.
‘Oh shit,’ I muttered.
I watched, trying to make sense of it - but between the glint of the sun against the glass, and the general haze of looking through the window, I could barely make out who was who.
So, I took a chance.
Zara’s hand slapped at my face as I held her by the throat. I was mid-way through shouting something, but the word was lost as I interrupted Alex’s train of thought.
‘GET THE FUCK OFF ME!’ Zara growled, her voice choked out by my fist, I let go, shaking as the adrenaline shot through me, a sharp drug that scorched through my consciousness all of a sudden.
‘It’s Phoebe,’ I said quickly, letting go, putting my hands up.
Only then did I realise that the hand not holding Zara’s neck was holding a handgun. I froze, it’s presence making my stomach drop, and my heart managed to pick up even further.
I could feel it in Alex’s head. My threat to him… he knew there was no way out of it. No way away from me. Was going to kill Zara, and then himself.
‘What?’ Zara asked, terrified, her back against the window. Her hand fumbled with the handle, and as she fumbled she managed to pull it, letting the door fall open and her fall out.
I didn’t move; I just kept my hands up, the weight of the handgun making me feel sick. Alex’s body was in turmoil - fear, anger, adrenaline, excitement - all of it was burning through him, Through me.
I could feel the panic burning up - giving way to his anger. He was stronger like this, less susceptible to me. He was fighting back, harder than anyone had before.
The pressure - that immutable pressure I had gotten so used to I barely felt it, now it was like a car pressing on my forehead; it was going to break me, and I had no way out except to give in.
But he knew, now. He knew where I was, in my car - he could see the slumped body of Phoebe, just across the way, in Martin’s car. If I dropped out of him, he would shoot there, first, and then-
‘Phoebe?’ Zara asked, making my head turn towards her. She flinched, standing outside of the car, only just in my eyeline. ‘Are you… in control?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, Alex’ voice straining - his words just beneath mine, struggling up, trying to burst through.
Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck. If I didn’t do something, anything, he was going to win.
I couldn’t let him win. I couldn’t let him get away with Zara, or with killing himself. No way out.
So, surprising him, myself, and Zara, I moved, getting out of the car; there was a CCTV camera at the building’s entrance, so I went up to it, wearing Alex’ face like a mask that was burning me underneath, and I looked dead into the lense, hoping it was recording.
Then, I shot it.
The BANG was unlike anything I’d heard before; my ears rang, and the flinch almost made me drop the damn thing. I saw people on the pavement turn, some running, some screams as they realised what was going on. Zara, in the car park, just watched - frozen to the spot.
I held the gun up above my head, at the clouds, and shot again.
BANG.
This time, more people reacted. Screams, people running - Zara ran, then, out of the car park and away from me. Away from Alex.
I could feel him inside, trying to get power again, just begging to be released so he could off himself; but instead I waited. I fired a third shot - BANG - into the sky, and waited for the police to arrive. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, but it felt like the whole world was weighing on me.
They arrived in flashes of red and blue, their own guns drawn. At their order, I dropped the gun, and someone tackled me to the ground. I felt the gravel dig into my cheek, but the adrenaline was muting everything.
They pulled me up, an elbow digging into my back to keep me moving, as I was dragged away in front of everyone. Once I was in the back of the police van, I looked at the blacked-out window, and saw the reflection of Alex, beaten and crooked-nosed.
‘I think I’ve made my point.’
Then-
-I was back.
I sat up, my own heart catching up to the panic and adrenaline it was expecting, and before I knew it, I was crying.
Just bawling, knees up to my chest, hands in my hair, as the fear and shock and violence of the inside of Alex’s head filtered out of me. The flash of blue lights faded, and I waited a few minutes more before I heard the knock on the window, and looked up to see Martin, like an angel on a rainy day, looking in on me through the glass.
Behind him, holding her arms and shaking like a dog, was Zara, a police officer taking her statement.
The door opened, and Martin held out his hand for me. When an officer looked up at me, her eyes a picture of sympathy, she probably just saw me as a terrified witness. Nothing more. No one would ever know, but me, Martin and Zara. And Alex, of course.
After that, time was a blur. Someone in uniform took my statement, but I just told them I was in my car after me and Martin parked up; he had gone up to the flat, and I was tired and liked to sleep in the car; that I would come up when I was ready. Martin agreed that this was the closest to the truth we needed to tell them, and they saw no problem with it. I told them the shots scared me, and I saw Alex with the gun in the car park shoot up into the air. That I curled up into a ball and hid.
It was a lie, of course. But it was an easy one, to make sure a violent, abusive piece of shit stayed away. For good.
~ 7 ~
‘You never did get that birthday present,’ I mumbled into Martin’s ear. About a week had passed since… everything. Ava had up and quit, recognising she was beat, and used her money to fuck of to America or something; Alex was still under investigation, but we hadn’t learned anything more. Frankly, we’d been happy to switch off from the world for a while, stay in bed, and waste away with each other.
‘I don’t mind,’ he said, kissing my cheek. ‘I’m a very content man.’
‘Hmm,’ I hummed, sliding my leg across him.
The night before, he had made love to me the way a husband does - slowly, with lots of care and attention. I was ready to give him the morning a wife should - slutty, with lots of moans and nibbles.
Not that we were married. But, you know. When you’ve been inside someone’s head as much as me and Martin, those kinds of barriers sort of… melted away.
‘I know you like Sylvia Wellons,’ I told him as I pulled myself up, letting the bedding fall off my shoulders, the morning glint of sunlight casting a yellow hue over our naked bodies. Beneath me, his cock woke up, and I felt his hands fall against my thighs, ready to steady me.
‘I do…’ he said wearily, looking up at me as I bit my lip, making riding motions on him as I felt him grow hard. Soon his length was dragging against my slit, trapped beneath me. ‘Oh wow.’
‘You know,’ I said, leaning down and letting his mouth meet my breasts. Martin began to kiss me, hands exploring my body as I lifted myself up enough for his cock to almost - almost - press into me, before pushing back, feeling him moan in anticipation and playful disappointment. ‘Before everything… happened that day, I went to find Sylvia.’
He looked up at me. ‘You did?’
I nodded. ‘She was… gorgeous. Sexy. She had an intern - Marnie - whose tongue she used as tension relief.’
‘Fuck,’ Martin moaned, though I wasn’t sure if it was because of the story, or because I again almost let him slip into me.
‘I shared with Marnie as we ate her,’ I told him, whispering into his ear. ‘Her cunt was… perfect, Martin. You’re going to love it.’
He blinked. ‘Going to?’
‘She’s back in the city today for filming; I figure that we should take that opportunity while it’s there.’
‘I’m not sure we should, you know, use your power for that,’ he said, trying not to admit how hard it made him.
‘For what?’ I asked, lifting up. Then, as I lowered myself onto his cock, ‘For pleasure?’
‘Hahhhhh,’ he moaned as I settled on him, balls-deep in one long, wet slide. ‘Shit, you feel so good.’
‘So do you,’ I said. ‘But… if you want, I’ll let you compare us.’
He looked at me, frowning. ‘Phoebe, that’s… it’s wrong. Making someone do that.’
‘When I’m in someone,’ I said before-
-swapping to make my point.
‘What I want and what they want are the same thing.’
Martin, now inside me, feeling his own cock fill his slutty hole as he rode me, pressing down and lifting up in lustful movements that betrayed how fucking good it felt.
‘You should have seen her,’ I said. ‘She was… a being of sex and beauty. Otherworldly.’
‘Fuck,’ Martin whimpered as he started to move faster, riding my cock the way he knew felt best. I reached up, gripping his tits in my hands, moving my hips to press into him, meeting those downstrokes as my cock settled inside his slutty pussy with a satisfying squish with each motion.
‘I felt her cum on my face,’ I told him. ‘Her thighs shuddering, that perfect jawline trembling as she orgasmed for me.’ Martin moved faster now, and I met him - our speed building as our own pleasure rose fast and comfortable. ‘Then, I was her - and I used her to fuck her intern, eating her and kissing her and doing everything Sylvia had ever wanted. But do you know what she hasn’t had?’
Martin, his eyes fluttering beneath my eyelids, was barely able to answer as he bounced, fucking himself on his own cock, lost in the scene.
‘She hadn’t had a cock like yours in years,’ I told him. ‘She isn’t gay - she’s bisexual, and no man has lived up to her ideas of ‘worthy’, so instead she takes out her needs on her poor Marnie.’
‘Oh, shit,’ Martin moaned as I pulled him down, using Martin’s own strength to lift my frame, and flip myself under his more muscular build - which mean I was able to fuck him like the slut we were.
My hand on his tit, the other on the bed over his head, I fucked the moaning Martin-Phoebe as though it was the only thing I knew how to do.
Fuck, it was hot, though. And, admittedly, unavoidable narcissistic - watching yourself be pleasured, moaning and begging to cum, and getting off on it was impossible to deny as a self-loving thing to do. But, in those complicated moments, I simply chose to think of it as masturbation with extra steps.
And we were very, very good at it by now.
We kissed, our bodies and minds merging and pounding and writhing and basking, until I felt Martin seize up - the shuddering of my body beneath me, and the half-contained groan that escaped from it, telling me I’d fucked him to orgasm.
Which, promptly, set me off - and, as I filled myself with cum, moaning and grinding and kissing the nape of his neck-
-I shifted back, short of breath, feeling the afterglow of Martin’s orgasm roll through me in waves of delight.
After a moment, Mertin slipped out of me, and kissed me with the sort of sweetness I didn’t expect to follow sex that good, and he sat on the egde of the bed.
‘I still think we don’t need her,’ he said. ‘I’ve got everything I need in this bed.’
THUNK-THUNK-THUNK.
The knock made us both jump; after a quick exchange of glances, Martin stood up and pulled a dressing gown off the back of the bedroom door before heading out. The bedside clock said it was about 10am, so it wasn’t totally unacceptable for anyone to come round - we just didn’t really know anyone, or at least anyone who would come knocking without it being planned.
After a moment, Martin cracked open the bedroom door, and poked his head through.
‘It’s for you,’ he said. The lack of any tension in his voice let me settle a little, and I had to remind myself that there wasn’t anything anyone could do to me that I wouldn’t be able to stop.
I was in charge. I was in charge. I was in charge.
I stood, pulled on a long tee from the clean-washing pile in the corner that really needed to be folded and put away, and a pair of pants I hoped were from the same pile, and peeked out the door. In the living room, milling around rather aimlessly, was Zara. When I saw her, I softened, and nodded to Martin to stay in the bedroom while I talked to her. She was, as usually, looking amazing - in running shorts and a sports bra, with a light jacket-thing on top, and noticeably lacking any sweat. Maybe she was on her way out, or maybe she just knew how good her curves looked in athletic wear.
As the door clicked behind me, Zara turned, her face not giving anything away.
‘Hey,’ I said, rather dumbly.
‘Hi,’ she said, like it wasn’t the word she’d expected to say. ‘Sorry - I’m not… I don’t know what to say.’
I shrugged, and offered a chair to her. ‘Sit?’
She nodded, and settled into an armchair, while I plopped down into the sofa opposite her. I realised, with a note of regret, that this was the spot I used to listen to her and Alex fucking - lying here, on the sofa, getting myself off as he used her. It was also, I realised, the spot Zara had woken up inside my body at one point, before anyone knew what exactly was going on.
‘Seems like a lifetime ago,’ she said, a distance in her eyes. ‘I came by to pick up some of my things. Alex was on the lease, and seeing as he’s going away for a while, I don’t think it’s smart to leave anything in there.’
I shook my head. ‘No, yeah, good idea.’
She paused, looking at me. ‘I just… I don’t know where I’m going, and… and I needed to ask. I need to know. It was you, wasn’t it?’
I nodded.
‘Okay, good,’ she said. ‘In that case - thank you. And, I’m sorry. He showed up with that gun, and told me to drive while you were… while your brain was elsewhere. I don’t even know where he got it.’
I nodded, thinking back to being inside Sylvia, and coming out expecting Zara to take me back to Martin for some fun. That day hadn’t exactly gone to plan.
‘Doesn’t matter now,’ I said, and she smiled in that way which wasn’t really a smile. ‘And, I’m sorry, too. I… took advantage of you. And I villainised you, when you were just trying to get by in the world.’
That was when she perked up, and shook her head. ‘No! No, that’s - that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,’ she said. Then, after a pause, she frowned and rubbed her eyes. ‘Sorry. Look, Phoebe - you can go inside people’s heads, yeah?’
I frowned, and didn’t answer - and she didn’t wait for a response.
‘Would you be able to just, like, jump into me, and see it for yourself? I can’t… I don’t think I can say it out loud.’
I waited for some kind of context, but none came, so instead I just-
-jumped.
I could feel it immediately - Zara was horny. Like, the kind of horny that makes you go online and send pictures to people just for the rush of it. The kind of horny that makes you feel bad about yourself. The kind of horny that gets you desperate enough to ask for-
Oh.
Oh!
Zara wasn’t just here to share how she felt - she was here to ask for a favour.
I could feel, inside her pretty head, how Alex had ruined her for so long, using her like a sex-toy, making her cum on his cock like a slut daily, to the point where she barely even recognised that there was anything wrong with him.
Until she’d spent that time with Martin.
Since then, she couldn’t help but feel like she needed something… softer. Something more loving. But, just as insistently, she needed to be fucked. It was a complicated sort of position to be in.
What she had worked out, inside her own head, was a plan that required me to be on board 100%, and it was… quite the ask. Which, most likely, was why she was reluctant to say it out loud.
She wanted to be fucked - just ruined - by Martin, but she knew he was a kind guy; so, she wanted me, Phoebe, to use Martin’s body to fuck her the way I had when I was ‘Alex’. She wanted the best of both worlds. In fact, she couldn’t stop thinking about it since Alex went away.
And it was driving her insane.
‘Oh wow,’ she said, and I wasn’t too sure which of us had said it.
The sound of Martin entering the room made us both turn, to see that he was now fully dressed in a nice shirt and jeans - and Zara noted that he looked good all dressed up. Her memory surfaced of that night I had spent with Alex, and she with Martin, and I found that they had, in fact, had sex - but it wasn’ tfucking. In fact, Zara had revelled in the fact that they had watched a movie together, making out on the sofa softly, before hearing me getting railed by Alex next door. The sound got them both in the mood, and he took her to bed, before eating her out until she came - something Alex refused to do.
Martin looked at the lifeless form of ‘Phoebe’ on the sofa, and then to me and Zara. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Zara came here to fuck you,’ I said simply. ‘Well - she wants me AND you, in your body, to fuck her. Because, since Alex, she’s been going insane, and needs someone she trusts to turn her inside out.’
He stood there, eyes wide, and sighed. ‘Is this my life, now? One weird sexual tryst after another?’
I smirked, and jumped-
-from Zara to Martin. I could feel the rush of arousal go through him, and as Zara stood watching us, I smiled using his lips.
‘Oh, he wants to do this,’ I said.
Zara looked at my body, then to Martin. ‘You’re in him? Now?’
I nodded. ‘You’re wet. He’s hard - or will be, soon. But! I think we should add one more layer to our cake, here.’
Then, I forced out Martin, swapping with him. Behind Zara, he woke up in my body, looking up at us both.
‘I’m still in him,’ I told Zara. ‘That is Martin, in my body. Swapped.’
‘Oh,’ Zara said with a sigh.
‘And, the last time we did this, it was all about Martin. Today, it’s all about you, okay?’ I walked up to her, taking her by the waist, and kissing her deeply. She moaned, eyes fluttering, and let our tongues explore each other.
From behind her, Martin, using my hands, slipped around her waist and deftly slipped beneath those revealing athletic shorts. Zara hummed, feeling my hands in her underwear, before pulling back.
‘You two are insane,’ she said with a smirk.
‘You have no idea,’ I heard my own voice say. I opened my eyes as Zara kissed my neck, and saw my own face, flush with red cheeks, as Martin unzipped the back of Zara’s sports bra. With a gasp into my neck, and a quick shift of her arms, she was topless, and those pert, perfect tits pressed into Martin’s chest like cushions from heaven.
As Martin kept kissing at her back, hand hands slid up and massaged her chest, making her moan into my mouth as I went beneath her shorts again, holding her delicious butt in my palms. I slipped my right hand around, staying within her shorts, until I could feel the soft brush of her pubic hair against my fingers; from there, I slipped one finger down between her folds, and felt the wet invitation of her sex as Martin used my hands to caress her chest. Zara was near-delirious as we worshipped her body, and eventually she pulled back from me and turned to see us both.
‘Bedroom?’
~ 8 ~
I was the first to wake up, warm and pinned beneath a tangle of limbs. Zara stirred a little as I shifted out from beneath her leg, but Martin barely noticed. As I sat up to get out of bed, I stumped my toe against one of Zara’s boxes, swearing a little under my breath; but, as I turned back and saw her, peaceful and content as she shared a pillow with Martin, I couldn’t stay upset.
Almost two weeks since she had arrived at our door, looking for release, and there was no sense of her leaving. Turns out, we didn’t exactly want her to. She was… fun. The person I had been jealous of for so long was, indeed, bright and sparkly and cute, but she was also kind and attentive in ways Alex hadn’t let her express before.
I went to the window, nude and uncaring, where I had so often people-watched. Some mornings I would jump out and share with people, just to see what their lives were like. The nicer ones, I would try and fulfill some aspect of their day they were struggling with - sending off an email for work they didn’t want to deal with, small things like that.
Once or twice, I’d inhabited the sort of person no one should be around, and while I’d never gone as far as I had with Ava or Alex, I did like to instill my own little justices. One cheating woman in her fifties was so rude, even inside her own head, I just pulled up her banking app on her phone, and donated half of her stowed-away savings to charity - only funds she was planning on using to book a holiday with her boyfriend whilst her husband thought she was working.
Another little task of mine was figuring out how to make money. I didn’t fancy outright robbing people, but equally my ability only served a slim consumer base - people who believed I was, in some way, psychic. Zara had set me up some online presence as an ‘energy clearer’, using some of her more hippy-esque contacts online; the idea being they would come to me, and I would share with them; they experienced my ‘taking over’ as an out-of-body experience, while I worked on calming them. I’d search through their memories, and find enough details to say to them once I finished sharing - things like, ‘Your son is acting out because he feels ignored.’ I’d add details, make sure they believed me, and they’d pay me for their time.
It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t ethical, but it was enough to keep us above water. After all, it wasn’t like Martin could go back to working for Ava.
I watched out, over the park, and I heard Zara get up. The sound of a kiss, shared between her and Martin, made my heart flutter before she came up behind me, stunning as ever, and wrapped her arms around me.
‘Morning,’ she mumbled into my neck. ‘I’m making coffee.’
‘Hmmmm,’ I groaned as she left, the tickle of her fingertips on my shoulder blades.
Soon after, Martin came through in the dressing gown - and nothing else - and we shared an easy morning of hot coffee and contented sighs, the television on, and a customer lined up for me at 11, organised by Zara.
Which, of course, gave us plenty of time to fill with our favourite activity - which, not to put it too crudely, was being inside each other.
Heh.
As ever, an enormous thank-you to:
Flarevirtue
Simon Haynes
Sindre Bjørnhjell
Peer Henze
Mannie_RSF
Obi
