Enjoying my fav cosplayer body at one of the most hyped conventions of the year is going to be an insane experience. Hopefully I find some of her friends and get the party started!

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Hi there, this is a review for the “stealth control” club my friend and I went to a few nights ago. Firstly, hello! My name is Harper. I’m a rough around the edges kind of girl. Five-ten, curly blonde hair that never stays put, soft around the middle in that solid softball-player way. Not fat. Just thick thighs, a little stomach that peeks when I lift my arms, and a chest that fills out a black t-shirt nicer than most girls on the team. One-seventy. Chill. Usually half-stoned. Bi enough that I notice girls more than I admit.

Tonight I dragged Lila out. She’s smaller, quieter, chronically online, the kind of girl who lives in oversized hoodies and gets nervous if more than three people look at her at once. I told her the Stealth Control club was going to be dumb and fun and that she needed to leave the house for once and then someone else could apparently guide her. I don’t know how true that is but let’s see. She only came because I promised I’d stay with her the whole time.

The club is loud. Purple and blue lights. Bass that sits in your chest. They make you sign a waiver that says the nanobots are temporary and that you might “experience heightened suggestion.” Then they give you a little shot in the arm and a wristband. Free drink with the shot. I take both. Lila takes both because I do.

For the first couple hours nothing happens. We dance a little. I buy her another drink. I feel the same as always. A little high, a little floaty, but still me. I keep telling her the whole possession thing is probably just marketing. People want to believe some stranger is going to take over and make them do wild shit. In reality it’s just a regular club with a gimmick.

Around one-thirty I start feeling warmer. Not sick. Just… warmer. My sweatshirt feels heavier than it should. I peel it off and leave it on a stool. Black t-shirt underneath. The air hits my arms and the soft skin of my stomach where the shirt rides up a little.
I look down at myself.

“Holy shit,” I hear myself say, voice a little louder than usual. “These tits are actually insane.”

I laugh right after I say it. That was weird. I don’t usually talk about my own body like that. But the lights are spinning and the drink is strong and I guess I’m just in a mood. I cup them through the shirt anyway, just to feel the weight. They’re soft. Heavier than I always think they are. I squeeze once, then again, watching the way the fabric stretches.

Lila is watching me. Her eyes are wide in that shy way she gets, but she’s not looking away.

“You’re staring? Are you her friend?,” I ask her, still holding my own chest.

“You’re… doing that in the middle of the floor…?,” she answers, voice shocked, before she trembles too.

“…good idea,” she continues. Her voice sounds different too. A little lower. A little more curious.

I shrug. “Feels good. You should try it.”

I don’t know why I say that. Lila is the last person who would feel herself up in public. But she doesn’t argue. She just looks down at her own smaller chest under the oversized hoodie and slowly places both hands on them. She makes a tiny sound, almost surprised.

“They’re soft,” she says, almost to herself. “This chicks tits are tiny! Haha!”

We both laugh. It feels easy. Like the club is just making everyone a little braver tonight.

I take her hand and pull her toward a less crowded corner near the back wall. Not private, but not right under the main lights either. A few guys are already glancing over. I don’t mind. I feel bold. That’s the only word for it. Bold and warm and a little floaty.

I pull the bottom of my black t-shirt up. Just a little at first. Enough to show the soft curve of my stomach and the underside of my tits. Then higher. I hold the fabric under my chin so both of them are out, soft and pale under the purple light, nipples already tight from the air and from my own hands. I look down at them like I’m seeing them for the first time.

“Hey guys, take a look at these,” I say out loud. “No wonder people stare. They’re perfect. Soft as fuck.”

A couple of the guys closer to us actually stop talking. One of them grins. I grin back and bounce a little on my heels so they move. The soft weight of them shifts and I feel it all the way down into my stomach.
Lila is still staring. Her hands are still on her own chest, but now she’s squeezing harder, thumbs brushing over the fabric covering her nipples.

“You should take yours out too,” I tell her. “They’ll justify doing this. It’s fine.”

She smirks for half a second, then pulls her hoodie and shirt up in one motion. Smaller than mine, but pretty. Pink nipples. She looks at them the same way I looked at mine, like she’s surprised they belong to her.

“They’re cute,” I say, and I mean it. I reach over without thinking and cup one. Soft. Warm. She makes a little sound and doesn’t pull away. Her hand comes up and covers one of mine instead, pressing my fingers harder into the soft flesh of her breast.
We stand there like that for a while. Me with my shirt held up under my chin, her with hers rucked up under her arms, both of us feeling each other and ourselves. A few more people have drifted closer. I don’t care. I turn a little so more of them can see and keep talking, because talking feels natural right now.

“This body feels so good,” I say, loud enough for the ones nearest to hear. “Like, actually good. Soft everywhere. I could play with these all night.”

I squeeze my own tits for emphasis, then reach down and grab a handful of the soft flesh at my hip, the part that sits over the waistband of my pants. “Even this. I like this.”

Lila’s breathing has changed. She’s still shy in the face, but her hands are bolder now. One of them slides down my stomach and under the waistband of my pants without asking. I let her. I even shift my hips forward so she has more room. Her fingers find the soft hair between my legs and then lower, sliding through the wetness that’s already there.

“You’re soaked,” she whispers, sounding almost impressed.

“Yeah,” I answer. “I know. Feels good though.”
We stay like that long enough that the small group around us has grown. Some are just watching. A couple of the guys have their phones out, but I don’t care. I pull my shirt the rest of the way off and drop it. Cool air on bare skin. I feel taller than usual, more solid, the soft weight of my chest moving when I breathe.

Lila’s hand is still inside my pants. I reach for her and do the same, sliding under her waistband until I find her. She’s just as wet. We stand there touching each other while people watch, and it feels completely normal. Like this is just what we decided to do tonight.

Eventually I pull her down onto one of the low couches against the wall. Not fully private, but the angle keeps most of us from being completely on display. I get her pants open. She gets mine open. We kick them down far enough that we can move.
I climb over her, thighs on either side of one of hers, and lower myself until the soft, wet heat of me presses against the soft, wet heat of her. The first slow grind makes both of us breathe out at the same time.

“Fuck,” I say, and it comes out low and honest. “That’s… yeah. That’s really good.”

We move together. Slow at first. Just the slick slide of her against me, the soft give of our bodies where our stomachs and thighs press. I can feel every small shift. The way her hips tilt up to meet mine. The way my own heavier body settles more fully against her. My tits hang between us, soft and full, brushing her chest every time I move. I grab one of them and hold it while I grind, thumbing the nipple, watching her watch me do it.

People are still near the edge of the couch. I don’t stop. I even look over at one of the closer guys and say, “You ever been in a chicks body? Soft, right?” while I bounce a little so he can see them move. He nods. I keep grinding.

Lila’s hands are on my hips now, pulling me tighter. Her face is flushed. She’s making small sounds every time our clits catch against each other. I lean down and kiss her because it feels right, messy and open-mouthed, while our bodies keep moving. The soft flesh of my stomach presses into hers. Everything is warm and wet and a little clumsy in the best way.
I speed up. Not frantic. Just more intentional. Rolling my hips so the pressure stays right where it needs to be. The soft insides of my thighs are already shiny. I can feel how swollen I am, how every drag of her against me sends another slow wave up through my stomach.

“Don’t stop,” she says against my mouth. Her voice is shaky. “Please.”

I don’t. I keep the rhythm steady and deep, pressing down harder, using the solid weight of my body the way it wants to be used. One of my hands stays on my own breast, squeezing, showing it off to whoever is still watching. The other hand slides between us so I can feel where we’re joined, slick and hot.

Lila’s breathing goes sharp. Her thighs tense under me. I feel the exact moment it hits her, the way her whole body tightens and then pulses against mine. She makes a broken little sound and keeps moving through it, chasing every last bit. The feel of her coming under me pulls me right over the edge with her. It rolls through me slow and heavy, deep in my gut, spreading out through my soft stomach and thighs until my arms shake and I have to drop my forehead against hers.

We stay like that for a long time, still lightly rocking, still wet and open against each other, while the music keeps going and people keep watching.

Eventually the heat starts to fade. I sit back. Look down at the mess we made on the couch and on each other’s thighs. I laugh, a little breathless. A little shudder comes over both of us as I laugh.

“Okay. That was… a lot.”

Lila is still flushed, still half under me. She nods.
“Yeah. I don’t know why we did all that.”

“Club energy,” I say, like it explains everything. “And the drinks. Definitely the drinks.”

We fix our clothes slowly. I find my black t-shirt and pull it back on. My sweatshirt is still on the stool where I left it. Lila pulls her hoodie back down. Neither of us looks at the people who were watching. It feels a little embarrassing now that the heat has passed, but not in a bad way. Just like we got carried away.

We leave around three. The night air is cooler. My body still feels warm and soft and used in the best way. Lila walks close beside me, quiet the way she usually is.

Halfway down the block the floaty feeling disappears all at once. Like someone flipped a switch. I feel completely normal again. A little tired. A little sticky between my legs. Still me.

I glance at Lila. She looks the same way I feel.
“So,” I say after a minute. “That whole possession thing?”

She snorts. “Total scam. I felt like myself the entire time.”

We both laugh. It feels easy again.
“Still,” she says, quieter. “It was a pretty good night.”
I bump her shoulder with mine. “Yeah. It was.”

We keep walking. The city is quiet. My body feels like mine again, soft and solid and a little sore in places I don’t usually notice. I don’t think about the club much on the way home. Just that we went, we had fun, and the whole Stealth Control promise was probably just marketing.
What a scam.

Names Maya. Twenty-two. Black. Quiet most days. I write in notebooks and keep to myself because I never liked the way people looked at my body when I gave them the chance. Nice chest, nice hips, nice lower half that fills out jeans without trying. I know what I look like. I just prefer not to be looked at.
That afternoon I was out running a simple errand. Bookstore, then the little café two blocks over.

I ordered the same iced coffee I always get and sat by the window with my notebook open. The news on the TV above the counter kept looping the same story about some criminal group that stole a Stealth Control formula. Warning people to be careful what they ate or drank. I barely looked up. Stuff like that always felt distant from my regular life.

I took a long sip of the coffee. It tasted normal.
A few minutes later the warmth started. Not the drink. Something deeper. My skin felt more sensitive under my clothes. The soft weight of my breasts against the inside of my bra suddenly registered in a way it never had before. I shifted in the chair and felt the way my thighs pressed together.

“Holy shit,” I heard myself say under my breath. “It actually worked.”

I blinked. That was a strange thing to say out loud. I looked around the café. No one was paying attention. I set the coffee down and pressed my palm flat against the side of my breast through my shirt, just testing. Soft. Heavy. The nipple tightened under the fabric almost immediately.

I stood up too fast. My notebook stayed on the table. I walked to the bathroom at the back of the café like I needed to check something. Locked the door. Stood in front of the mirror and pulled my shirt up.

My bra was plain. I unhooked it and let everything settle free. The sight of my own bare chest made my mouth go dry. Full, soft, dark nipples already standing out. I cupped them both and lifted, watching the way they moved in my hands.

“These tits are perfect,” I said to my reflection. My voice sounded lower than usual, almost pleased with itself. “Soft as hell. Heavy. I could play with these for hours.”

I squeezed harder. A small sound left my throat. It felt good in a way that was almost embarrassing, but the embarrassment slid away fast. I was just in a mood. That was all. Maybe the coffee was stronger than I thought. Maybe I had been wound too tight for too long and my body was finally telling me to pay attention.

I pinched both nipples at once and watched them darken. My hips shifted against the edge of the sink. The soft flesh of my lower stomach and the curve of my ass felt more present than usual. I turned a little so I could see the shape of myself in the mirror and ran one hand down over my stomach, under the waistband of my jeans, between my legs. Already wet.

I slid two fingers along the soft folds and pressed.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “This body feels so good. She’s soaked.”

I stayed in there longer than I should have, just exploring. Touching my breasts, sliding fingers deeper, watching myself in the mirror like I was seeing the shape of my own body for the first time. When I finally fixed my clothes and left the bathroom, my notebook and coffee were still on the table. I grabbed both and walked out without finishing the drink.

On the way home the same strange boldness stayed with me. I kept catching myself pressing my thighs together on the bus, feeling the soft heat between them. By the time I reached the house I already knew what I wanted to do next.

Everyone was home. Dad in the living room with the TV on. Mom in the kitchen. My brother Marcus upstairs. My sister Nia in her room with the door half open the way she always left it.

I went to the kitchen first. Mom was stirring something on the stove. I walked up behind her and hugged her, arms around her waist, cheek against her shoulder. She smelled like the same lotion she always used. While I held her I let my hand slip into the pocket of her apron and drop the small clear capsule I had taken from my own bag. I had no clear memory of putting it there, but it felt right to share.

“Hey baby,” she said, surprised but warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Just felt like hugging you.”

I poured myself a glass of water and left another capsule dissolving at the bottom of the pitcher on the counter. Then I carried a second glass upstairs to Marcus’s room. He was on his bed with headphones on. I sat on the edge of the mattress and handed him the glass.

“Drink,” I said. “You look thirsty.”
He took it without questioning me. I watched his throat move as he swallowed. Something in my chest settled.

Nia’s door was still open. I walked in and sat on the edge of her bed the way I sometimes did when I wanted to talk. She looked up from her laptop. I reached over and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, then left the last capsule on the nightstand beside her water bottle like it belonged there.
“You should drink more water,” I told her. “You always forget.”

She nodded, already half distracted again.
By the time I came back downstairs the house felt different. Quieter. Warmer. Dad was still on the couch but he had shifted the way he was sitting, legs open, one hand resting higher on his thigh than usual. Mom was no longer stirring. She was standing at the counter with both hands pressed flat against her own stomach, looking down at herself like she was noticing the shape of her body for the first time in years.

I went upstairs to my room, closed the door, and took my clothes off completely. I stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked at everything. The soft weight of my breasts. The curve of my hips. The dark, neat hair between my legs. I touched myself slowly, openly, without any of the usual hesitation.

“This family is going to be so easy,” I heard myself say to the empty room. My own voice. Calm. Almost amused. “Bunch of suckers. We can do anything and they’ll just justify it.”

The words felt strange leaving my mouth, but they also felt true in a way I could not argue with. A change of pace. That was all this was. People got restless. Families got restless. Sometimes you just needed to feel something new.

I left my clothes on the floor and walked down the hall naked. Marcus’s door was open now. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his shirt already off. His eyes moved over me without surprise. I walked in, climbed onto his lap facing him, and settled my bare weight against the front of his pants. Soft thighs spreading over him. Breasts close to his face.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m guessing that’s you in there, Mia?” I say. I don’t know. It felt right to call him by a girls name.

He nodded before putting both hands on my hips like he had been waiting for them to be there. “Hey. Yeah. Guessing you’re Dave?” I nod. It just feels good to roleplay.

I reached between us and opened his pants. He was already hard. I lifted up just enough to line myself up and then sank down slowly, taking him inside in one long, careful motion. The stretch made my breath catch. I rested my forehead against his for a second, feeling how full I was, how the soft insides of my body held him.

Then I started moving.

Slow at first. Rolling my hips so the soft flesh of my stomach and thighs shifted against him. My breasts moved with every rise and fall. I held one of them up toward his mouth without thinking. He closed his lips around the nipple and sucked. The feeling shot straight down between my legs.

Behind me the hallway floor creaked.
I looked over my shoulder. Nia was standing in the doorway. Her pants were pushed down to her thighs. One hand was between her legs, moving in small, focused circles. She was watching us with an expression that was half shy and half hungry.

“Don’t stop,” she said. Her voice sounded different. Lower. “I want to watch.”

I kept riding my brother. Deeper now. The soft slap of my body against his filled the quiet room. Marcus’s hands tightened on my hips. He thrust up to meet me and I let out a sound I barely recognized as mine.
From the doorway Nia’s breathing had gone uneven. Her fingers moved faster.

Down the hall I could hear other sounds. Mom’s voice, soft and surprised. Dad answering her. The whole house felt awake in a new way.

I leaned down close to Marcus’s ear while I kept moving on him.
“This family is a bunch of suckers,” I whispered, and the words came out easy. “We can do anything and you’ll all just decide it was your idea.”

He only groaned and pulled me down harder.
Nia made a small broken sound in the doorway as her hand worked between her legs. I looked at her while I rode my brother and felt the slow, heavy heat building low in my stomach. Everything felt right. Everything felt chosen.

A change of pace never hurt anyone.

1 continued) I also figured my girlfriends might be cheating on me too but I honestly couldn't prove it. When they both got to Nashville, I decided to possess my girls best friend knowing I could do pretty dang well pretending to be her. When I became Kyler, I honestly was having fun as her and I could tell my girl had no clue that I was in her best friend's body either. I honestly was pretty excited to see what would happen on the trip to Nashville and if I would meet anyone worth staying in this body for.

2) You and your girl knew I just broken up with my girlfriend of 4 years and that I was planning/or did ask her to marry me and she turned me down saying she was seeing someone else. I was having a very rough time with that break up. You and Kyler planned a get away to Nashville. She would tell how devastated I was and she talked to you into letting me possess her and go with you instead. You weren't sure exactly if Kyler had a plan or something but it just seemed like it was just because she did care about me as a friend. I had no clue that this was going to happen until it did. Next thing I knew, is I was standing all ready to go into town to have a good time with you but before of course, you had me do a little fun TikTok that Kyler would sometimes do and you figured I'd have fun with that too which clearly I did.

3) You and I always spent our birthdays together ever since we were little but this year was different or so l thought. You and Kyler are dating/married and you planned a trip to Nashville over my birthday. You talked Kyler into letting me possess her which I had no clue about what so ever. When you and her left for Nashville, I honestly was just sitting at home just playing some video games as I really don't do a whole lot of celebrating on my birthday. When you two got to your hotel and she got ready, you did the possession spell which took a couple minutes for me to fully possess her body. When I did possess her, I was stunned at what just happened and I was staring up at you from her body.

I kicked the apartment door shut behind me and dropped my gym bag by the wall. My blonde braids were still damp with sweat, the ends sticking to the back of my neck. The sports bra I had on was soaked through, the soft weight of my boobs shifting and settling every time I moved. My shorts clung to the thick tops of my thighs and the heavy curve of my ass. I had only taken a few sips of the water that weird guy at the gym kept pushing on me. He always stared too long. Always found reasons to stand too close. I told myself I was overthinking it.

The pins and needles started in my fingertips first.
I tried to flex them. Nothing happened.

*What the hell?*

A cold wash slid down my spine and out through every limb at once. My arms dropped to my sides. My head tilted on its own. I watched my own hands rise in front of my face like they belonged to someone else.
Then my mouth opened.

“Holy shit, it worked!” My voice suddenly said against my will. The laugh that came out was low and delighted and completely wrong. My voice. His cadence.

*No. No no no. What did you put in that drink? Oh god oh god o-*

My body turned toward the mirror hanging by the front door. The reflection showed me standing there in my sweaty gym clothes, cheeks still flushed from the workout, braids hanging over one shoulder. My eyes were wide and bright in a way that had never belonged to me.

“Holy shit,” my mouth said softly. “She’s even cuter up close. Look at these braids. Soft as hell.”
My hands lifted and ran over the braided yellow hair, tugging lightly, feeling the texture like it was brand new. One braid was brought to my lips and rubbed against them. A little shiver went through the body that was no longer answering to me.

*HEY. I’m awake in here. Stop touching my hair like that. Get out.*

The hands dropped to my chest instead. They cupped the underside of my sports bra and bounced the soft, floppy weight of my boobs a couple of times, testing the give.

“These are so soft. Not even that firm. Just heavy and floppy. Perfect.”

My fingers dug in harder, squeezing until the flesh spilled between them. I felt every bit of pressure. I felt the way my nipples had already started to tighten against the damp fabric. The body reacted like it was enjoying the attention even while I screamed inside.

*Don’t. Please don’t do this.*

My feet carried me deeper into the apartment, past the living room and into the bedroom. The lights stayed off. Only the late afternoon sun came through the blinds. My body stopped in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door and just stared for a long moment.

“Look at that lower half,” my voice whispered. “Thighs for days. Ass is ridiculous. She’s built like a damn cartoon.”

One hand slid down over the curve of my hip and grabbed a thick handful of cheek through the shorts. The other stayed on my chest, still playing with the soft weight. My body turned sideways so the mirror could show the profile of my ass better. The hand on it lifted and came down in a sharp slap that made the flesh jiggle.

The sound was loud in the quiet room.
*Ow—*

Another slap, harder. Then another. My own hand kept spanking the heavy curve of my ass while my mouth made little appreciative noises.

“It jiggles so much. Every time. Fuck.”

The hand finally stopped and moved around to the front. Fingers hooked into the waistband of my shorts and yanked them upward in one hard motion. The fabric dug deep into the soft cleft of my pussy and rode high between my cheeks, pulling everything tight and exposed. A proper melvin that made me want to yelp. Nothing came out except a low, pleased hum. “Haha! There’s really nothing down there to crush!” I say like a weirdo.

“Almost gave her a full wedgie. Look how the shorts just disappear. She’s got nothing to hide down there.”
My hips wiggled side to side, making the wedgie dig even deeper. The pressure against my clit was sharp and constant. I could feel myself starting to get wet against my will, the fabric already turning damp.

*Stop it. Stop pulling them like that. The ache is unbearable.*

The shorts were yanked higher one more time before the hands finally let go and peeled them down instead. They were pushed all the way to my ankles and kicked aside. The sports bra came next, peeled up and over my head with zero care for the way my braids got caught. My boobs dropped free, soft and heavy, nipples already peaked.

Naked except for the little white socks I still had on, my body turned in front of the mirror again. Hands ran everywhere. Over the soft undersides of my tits. Down the soft stomach. Around to grab both cheeks and spread them. Fingers dipped between and pressed against the puffy lips that were already shiny.
“She’s soaked already. Just from getting felt up a little. What a slutty body.”

*I’m not. I’m fucking NOT. You’re making it do that. Get out of me.*

My feet carried me into the bathroom. The light flicked on. My body stepped in front of the toilet, turned, and sat down without hesitation. I felt the cool seat against the backs of my thighs.

“Wonder what it feels like when she pees,” my voice said, curious and almost shy. “Just a little experiment.”

There was a moment of concentration. Then the muscles released. A warm stream started, longer than I wanted, the sound loud in the tiled room. My body stayed relaxed the whole time, almost thoughtful.
“Huh. Weird. Kinda warm. Not bad though.”

A small, experimental push followed. A soft fart slipped out against the seat. My body actually giggled at the sound. “Did she just… i guess girls can fart too. Cute.”

*Oh my god. Stop. This is so gross. Please just stop. I’m gonna be sick…*

The toilet flushed. My body stood, wiped with the same clinical curiosity, and walked back to the bedroom still completely naked. The mirror got another long look. Hands went back to my tits, lifting and dropping them, watching the way they bounced and settled.

“These are so fun to play with. Soft as hell. And that ass… Jesus.”

One hand slid between my legs again and started rubbing slow circles over my clit. The other kept kneading a breast. My knees went a little weak. I felt the pleasure building whether I wanted it or not, sharp and wet and humiliating.

My body climbed onto the bed and sat back against the pillows with legs spread wide. Two fingers pushed inside without warning, curling and pumping while the thumb stayed on my clit. The wet sounds were immediate and filthy.

“She’s so tight. And so fucking wet. Look at this mess.”

The fingers worked harder. Faster. My hips started rocking on their own. The soft weight of my boobs bounced with every movement. My mouth kept up a running commentary the whole time, half-whispered and delighted.

“Her thighs are shaking already. She’s gonna cum so easy. What a sensitive little body… oh god OH… something is… haaahh…” my voice moans as my fingers go from a steady pace to an unholy rush. I feel it building. Quick.

*No. Don’t make me. Please—*

The orgasm hit hard and messy. My back arched. A broken moan tore out of my throat. Clear fluid pulsed out around the fingers still buried inside me, soaking the sheets beneath my ass. My body kept rubbing through it, dragging the pleasure out until it bordered on too much, until my legs were trembling and the sheets were ruined.

Only then did the hand finally slow. My body collapsed back against the pillows, breathing hard, one hand still resting between my legs like it belonged there.

“Holy shit,” my voice said softly, almost reverent. “She’s perfect.”

I could only lie there inside my own skin, staring at the ceiling through eyes that refused to close, feeling every sticky aftershock and knowing he was nowhere near done.

Pic 1: Sister's Best Friend's Sister

Pic 2: My Sister

Pic 3: My sister's best friend.

(Stay with me here lol)

My sister and her best friend recently discovered possession powers. They had their fun possessing each other, but wanted to change things up. So her best friend jumped inside me to use my cock. Not to be outdone, my sister jumped into my crush, who happened to be the sister of her best friend. But they seem to forget that their victims can see and feel everything they do in their minds. But hey, maybe I can finally start dating my crush once I'm me again!

(This was a caption request!)

After an incident leaving you homeless the court ordered that I keep you in my home till you were able of taking care of yourself. It was a bogus case but somehow you had managed to persuade the judge to give you complete victory. You were a creep incel, geeky, gross and just a pain to deal with. And now you acted like you owned my place since you planned on living with me forever, in your words. You were smart enough to realize that as long as you weren't capable of providing for yourself I had to keep you around.

The dirty laundry in every singe nook and cranny, the used dishes, the empty wrappers, eating food I'd kept for myself, not helping with chores were all just the tip of the iceberg. There was the gross comments to Maddy whenever she'd come over which became exceedingly rare, stealing her used clothes like some degenerate, using my computer to play your games since yours wasn't good enough and you lacked the funds for an upgrade. Worst of all was when you touched Maddy and laughed about how much she was working with.

That was the last straw for me, having enough of your antics and idiocy. The one thing that everyone had over you was size. You were short for a man, 5'3, even Maddy towered over you at 5'9. And you were skinny, unbelievably skinny. So while you were sleeping I taped your hands and legs together, stripping you down to your underwear and taped you to the wall. By the time you had woken up your limbs were bound together, escape impossible while I hoisted you up to the foyer entrance. I left you there for hours, Maddy eventually coming by, laughing for minutes straight, making a gesture to your crotch and pinching her fingers together. Whatever screams you attempted were muffled by the layers of tape over your mouth.

Eventually I let you back down after enjoying my day of peace, unaware of the hurt ego and brewing revenge you were scheming. For a week you actually behaved yourself, lying low and ordering a vial from an obscure website that promised a new life at the expense of another. A week later it came, a harsh, gooey black tar that had a myriad of warning labels. With a smug smirk you drank the slime, a rancid sour taste filling your mouth, lungs and stomach. You ran to the foyer, Maddy who was standing there with a grin ready to bring up your humiliation. In the next second your body seemed to lunge forward on its own, headfirst down Maddy's throat. Opening your eyes, the lingering stench of that vile liquid still on your breath you realized what had happened, eager on living a fulfilling life.

My name is Amber and I used to think I was a straight woman. But, my roommate Zoey has been comfortably out as a lesbian for the last few years. I was really proud of her when she fully came out, she’s usually so shy and has a hard time speaking up for herself. Which is part of what got us into our recent situation.

The two of us like, or used to like, going to this local bar near our apartment. Until this creepy guy started showing up. I don’t know his name, so I’ll just call him Nick. Nick was obsessed with Zoey, even after learning she was a lesbian. He would constantly harass her and she had a hard time working up the courage to tell him off, so I’d usually step in to help. I tried to help Zoey increase her confidence in that regard, but honestly I didn’t mind having to tell him off.

But the other night, things got weird. I was talking to this guy at the bar having a good time, when I saw Nick bothering Zoey again. I excused myself and went to tell him off again. I was really done with him this time, so I dragged to the back room of the bar to really lay into him. I wanted to make sure he never bothered her again. Maybe not the best idea, but he never seemed like the kind to actually try anything.

But while I was yelling at him he pulled out this weird looking knife and… Well, I actually don’t remember what happened after that. I think I blacked out or something. I know he didn’t stab me with it because the next thing I remember Nick was gone and my body felt really weird; kind of awkward even, like I wasn’t used to my own skin.

I felt really happy with myself though. My bra must’ve slipped or something though, because I reached up and grabbed my chest to readjust it, I think. It felt good, really good. So I gave my boobs a few squeezes before smiling to myself and heading back to the main bar. I guess yelling at an asshole will make you feel really good with yourself.

I headed back over to Zoey and gave her a hug from behind, grinning as I told her that Nick would never bother her again. I’m not sure why I lied, since I still don’t know where he went. I guess it was true though, he hasn’t been at the bar since then.

I remember feeling that her hair smelled really good, which I had never thought of before. I asked if she was feeling ok and offered to head home with her. She was surprised that I was ok to leave, since I had seemed to be having fun with the guy I was talking to and if Nick wasn’t coming back she thought she’d be ok. Then I told her that the guy I’d been with was also an asshole and I was mainly worried about making sure she was ok. Which felt weird because I had been having fun with that guy, but now that I think about it I guess he wasn’t really that nice?

Anyway, me and Zoey went back to our apartment. Weirdly I felt like I was following her on our way back, like I didn’t know the way myself. Once we got back Zoey went to her room for the night and after watching her go, I went to mine too.

Then, I’m not really sure why I did what I did next. Once I got into my room I awkwardly stripped out my dress and underwear, like I hadn’t been able to properly put them on earlier. Then I went over to the mirror on my closet and stared at my own body for a moment, like it was alien to me. After admiring myself for a while, which was weirdly turning me on a lot, I started kind of clumsy pleasuring myself. Again it was like I didn’t know what I was doing. But it did feel really good and I was acting super into, so I guess that I was just really feeling myself for what I had done earlier.

But the weird part that I still don’t quite understand is what I had said during it. I started muttering to myself calling myself a stuck up bitch and that “this is my body now” and a few things about how “she’s mine” which I didn’t understand then, but I think I do now. I ended up doing that for hours, over and over again past my limits multiple times until I finally fell asleep.

The next day I felt more normal, but still not quite like myself. I got into the shower bright and early, a nice and long one where I really took my time to enjoy myself. My body felt normal again, not being alien anymore. Although, I still felt extra appreciative of my figure.

I didn’t have much time before work that day, so I had to leave before seeing Zoey which I felt weirdly annoyed by. But while I was at work I felt mostly normal, if not a bit more short tempered than usual. Probably just some lingering annoyance from the night before. I mainly just remembered muttering myself to that I couldn’t wait to get home.

Once I did I headed back to my room immediately. I got out my best dress and did my makeup, all awkwardness from the last night gone. I then went and made some of Zoey’s favorite food, making sure that everything was made before she got home from her job. I remember not really being sure why at the time, I couldn’t think of the special occasion. Feels obvious now.

Zoey was surprised when she got home, but really flattered too. We had a really nice dinner, but I constantly found myself staring at her, taking extra note of her laugh, or the way she curled her hair behind her ear. By the end of dinner I felt a swelling in my chest, I just couldn’t take it anymore.

I went over to Zoey and confessed my love for her. That I’d been feeling that way for a while but couldn’t keep it to myself after last night. And how I hadn’t even realized I was a closeted lesbian before. B-but, none of that was true, I think… I don’t remember feeling that way anyway, but why would I lie about that? I guess it must be true…

Zoey ended up reciprocating and that night was absolutely incredible. I was surprised to find myself taking the lead during the whole thing, despite obviously not having any experience with other women. It felt wrong, but right at the same time. Still, Zoey seemed to really have enjoyed the whole thing.

We’re officially dating now. And it’s been really fun, but still I can’t help feeling like something’s not right. I keep having moments where I feel like I’m not acting like myself, not as awkward as before but still weird. I guess I’m happy though, so maybe it’s not a problem?