Final Story: Skip and Jump (pt4 of 4)

I knew Tom had a lot of heavy graft, some of it dirty ahead of him today. On the other hand, Connor had a free day, possibly the whole weekend to explore the expo.

This wasn't going to be difficult.

I knew, although he was big, he had little experience--if any--defending himself against a martial arts professional like myself.

My attack surprised Connor; he tried valiantly to protect himself, but it was futile and within a few minutes he was laid out on the floor unconscious.

Slowly, I wriggled and pulled myself from Tom's back, and lowered him to the floor. I was sorry to leave him, but his knowledge and warm composure was something I could share with Josh when I returned home.

My attention turned to the gorilla laying on the floor. I was soon be taking Connor's identity, he was arrogant and cocky, but something told me there was something else to the giant--I guess I'd find out soon enough?

Josh wasn't small, but next to Connor I felt tiny. I knelt next to giant, and pulled each arm out from under his torso. His hands were huge, come to think of it, so was his arms, shoulders, neck and back!

Climbing onto his back, I compared our sizes. Josh was 5'7", Connor looked--and felt--more like 6'4" possibly even bigger.

Plucking his cap from his head, I tossed it to the side. I began to align myself, I was enjoying ease and time I had; no need to rush.

Grasping his hands, I felt his muscular biceps against my own. I was laying across his shoulders, my nose central at the nape of his neck. His hair smelt of product, it was thick and hard with gel. Glancing down, I could see my feet barely reached his calves. Thankfully I knew it wasn't important; whether the body was larger, or smaller I always squeezed in somehow.

Final Story: Skip and Jump (pt3 of 4)

It was me! The coolness around my ass only confirmed it!

Inside Devin, I'd concertinaed. My legs had pulled up inside him, and with my upper torso, arms and head still in place I'd forced my butt and waist backwards and into Tom.

I continued to push back, Tom at this point was beginning to lose his strength.

Groaning loudly--still through Devin--I kicked back and forced myself from the waist down into Tom. He was still fighting me, but sensing something was wrong. I had to focus--hard--to get more of myself inside the guy.

The radio squawked again, "Tom? Answer me, or I'm coming up there!"

Twisting, I looked over my shoulder. Tom still had a good hold on me, but his eyes were glassy. Easing back, I pushed a little more. All that remained in Devin were my arms, chest and head.

Closing my eyes, I steadied my breathing as the voice come on the radio again. There was a lot of me inside Tom, but I had a connection.

I swamped his mind, drowning him. He instantly released his grip. Controlling his body--remotely--I reached out for the radio and clicked the key.

Tom gargled, and mumbled. I'd never done this before, controlling higher functions like speech was difficult. My head began to ache with the concentration.

"Yeah," I managed to squeeze out of Tom's lips, "all good here."

"Well, don't take so fucking long next time. Come downstairs when you're done and don't leave any tools behind. I don't want to come back to his cesspit again."

I laid there for a few minutes, trapped somewhere between Devin and Tom; co-joined hosts.

Final Story: Skip and Jump (pt2 of 4)

It worked--of course, and I performed like an animal in bed. I learnt some new tricks, that I'd be taking away as Josh, but I pumped her into a frenzy multiple time, working Grant's body for my own pleasure.

The next morning we showered alone, and I picked through Grant's clothes, deciding on something simple.

We did all the tourist stuff, which I enjoyed, especially with a girl like Heather. Something inside regretted the abstinence I'd agreed upon as Josh.

That evening after an expensive meal in the hotel, I performed again, only this time I used our strength a little more, and she enjoyed it a lot more.

---

I only had limited time away, and knew I had to return to Josh's home in a few days. That morning I decided, although I was enjoying myself as Grant, it was time to move on for some more fun.

Heather enjoyed the lay-in with me, and of course we made out a few more times. After a shower, I told her I would go out and get us both a Starbucks from show the street while she got herself ready for the day.

Final Story: Skip and Jump (pt1 of 4)

So, this is me now...

... a wrestler, who'da guessed!

I was getting past my best and was looking for something a little younger when I heard about this teen. He'd been in an accident, a freak one, and had to be sedated to aid his recovery. They showed a picture of Josh in hospital, he looked fine but they weren't hopeful.

It didn't take long for me to decide to fix him, it would be a miracle in many eyes, but I'd been doing if for too many years to remember.

I found him in a private ward, the usual pipes and wires keeping him alive. I knew what I was going to do was wrong, but I believed I would be good for Josh with my experience on hand.

Slipping out of my clothes, I parted his lips and grasped his shoulders. Offering the crown of my head against his mouth, I pushed.

Closing my eyes, I focused on changing; something flowing, and pushed slowly into his body.

Last Seandays: Body Shop

Business was slow, the new cars had sophisticated immobilisers. To steal a car nowadays you needed the keys, and I knew just how to get them.

I'd found an expensive hotel in Las Vegas, valet parking was the answer. The hotel was busy, and they had a team of ten drivers. Strangely enough I had ten guys in my team as well, but they weren't the sort of people you'd willingly give you car to--but that was going to change.

Renting an expensive car, I filled the trunk with shopping and drove to the hotel. I pulled up outside and popped the trunk, one of the valet team came over and helped with the shopping before taking the car to park it.

I stood there for a moment, and waited. As I expected one of the team walked over, the name 'Nathan' was embossed on the badge. "Can I get someone to help you with those?" He asked.

"Can you help me?" I asked stuffing a $20 in his hand.

He looked at the bill, and his eyes lit up. "Well, I'm not meant to leave my station." I stuffed a $50 in his hand. "But--If the guy in charge can't take a break, what's the point?"

He let out a whistle, and six guys trotted up. "Craig, you man the desk, I'm just helping this gentleman with his shopping."

I'd done my homework, Nathan was the head of the valet team. He was big and strong, but the twenty-three year old had earned the trust and respect from the rest of the team--something I'd make use of later.

I told him the room I was staying in and followed him, it was an impressive sight. Strong broad shoulders, thick arms and a handsome face--definitely something I could work with. His uniform, black dress pants, white v-neck shirt and tailored waistcoat only emphasised his build further.

Opening the door to the room, he walked inside. My team was waiting and tackled him to the floor. It took all of them to subdue him. I took the serum and injected it into his neck, he continued to struggle for a couple of minutes then stopped.

Last Seandays: Intruder

"Tony, where are you?" I shouted into the quiet apartment. "I want my fucking deposit back if you're going to throw me out for no reason. You hear me?"

I slammed the door and started to search the rooms, and then I came across the fucker lying on the kitchen floor. "I want my money," I demanded.

He looked at me through lifeless eyes; he rolled onto his back with a dull thud. Then, inch by inch he was being pulled into the next room by his feet. I stood there for a moment as he slowly disappeared through the door, his limp arms dragging behind him.

"What the fuck?" I muttered following Tony into the next room. I stopped as I came face to face with a stranger; he was dressed in black, a hood over his face. Through the eyeholes piercing blue eyes flicked between me and Tony: he dropped Tony's feet and slowly pulled something from his pocket, the steel of a knife glinted in the sun.

Last Seandays: The Art of Subterfuge

I wouldn't say I was bad, hell, some people would call me nice. Well maybe.

I'm always looking to make an easy buck, and not afraid to step on anyone to get it. I guess you'd blame my parents, and I'd probably agree with you.

I was brought up on a ranch--as soon as I was able to talk they told me that I was an unwanted child. It wasn't until I was older that I really understood what they meant.

They treated me like staff, he'd give me a wage and she'd take it away telling me it was for room and board. As soon as I was old enough I ran away--to the city.

I spent years running, trying to put as many miles between me and the people I hated.

I'd settled in Kirkborough, a small town near to the Mexico border where the people were friendly. I'd got into a routine working for a living--in a coffee shop, although this time I was on a wage where I could afford a room and have some money left over.

My life changed when I saw Zack Selland crossing the road--I recognised him from the shop--he was a cool dude always friendly.

I'd been sitting on a bench he glanced over and I waved, he looked confused--as if he'd never seen me before. As he broke in a jog his wallet fell from his pocket. I shouted out, but he ignored me.

Picking up the wallet, I flipped through it--easily $500--WOW! If he was a nobody then the cash would be making my life easier but he always tipped well. I looked up and saw him turn a corner, and I gave chase.

Last Seandays: One story, two endings

Something different this time. This story has two endings, in the comments vote for your favourite. Collan's holding the fort next Seanday because I'm on holiday (maybe as someone else!).

-----

The phone buzzed in my pocket, hooking it out I checked the display--a message from Jackson. I muttered to myself *fucking idiot*.

I jammed my knee into the back of the giant below me, he cursed at me threatening me and my family--but I didn't give a fuck. I'd been out in the open for too long, and I needed a new identity one that I could slip so deeply into that nobody could sense me, not even the Doppel Agents.

"Shut the fuck up," I yelled, "you wouldn't be threatening me if you knew who I was. In fact you'd be begging me leave you alone."

Last Seandays: In Deeper, part 4

Read part 1, part 2 and part 3 here

Almost naturally I carved a route through the oncoming traffic. I was on the wrong side of the street!

Dropping my foot, I skidded sideways, pulled the bike back and skipped it onto the sidewalk. I looked around at the faces staring at me as I panted hard, what happened?

Quickly getting my bearings, I headed off again; down a side street at stopped. My hands were shaking, they were Connor's, but how did I get here? I checked my mobile: 11:27am, what the hell?

I was definitely still Connor, still in the same clothes although I now had a messengers bag and radio over my shoulder. I grasped my head, shaking it. Trying to remember the past few hours, then the memories bloomed. Getting up, cycling to work, picking up some jobs. It was all there.

While I overslept, Connor's consciousness took over for me, carrying me as a passenger.

Could I call upon this transition anytime? I relaxed, sinking into Connor's mind, still looking through his eyes. Within moments he'd called the office for another job and we were back on the streets heading towards Washington Market Park.

Last Seandays: In Deeper, part 3

Read part 1, part 2 here

There was no lag, no laziness, I was Robert--I knew that already. I touched my face and studied it in the mirror. "Huh, you'll do," I told the reflection.

I reached down and picked up the receipt and pen Robert had dropped in the struggle. Then I went back to David's pants and took ten bucks from his pocket, "It's not stealing, I know he'd tip... believe me," I told Robert's conscious.

As Robert, I left the room taking the service elevator to the kitchen. I seamlessly drew on his memories checking in the meal on the register and placed the signed receipt in the folder.

"You going?" A voice called out, it was the head waiter.

"Just finished," I told him. "See you later." I knew Robert had an evening shift as well.

In the staff room I removed my uniform shirt and hung it up in my locker. I switched on my phone and checked for messages--nothing I was clear for the afternoon. I pulled on my hoody--Robert thought it looked cool over his vest, and I hitched my rucksack over my shoulder.

Robert would normally be heading home to catch up on some sleep before the long evening shift, but after immersing myself in his memories I figured a way to get back with Justin again.

Last Seandays: In Deeper, part 2

Read part 1 here

My hand snapped forward and grabbed his wrist, I jerked him towards me, spinning him as he went. With his back towards me, I grabbed his other wrist and pushed inside him. It still took a few minutes, like pushing through treacle but there was hardly any struggle once I'd started.

I rolled and cracked my neck--Justin's neck. "Still need some more practice," I muttered. The phone rang in my hand. "Hello?"

*Hey Justin, it's Sam. Thanks for last night, how do fancy going for a drink and then to that new club KOKO? I'll pay.*

"Sure," I replied in Justin's voice.

*Smart casual, I'll pick you up at eight.*

"Great," I replied, we said our goodbyes and hung up.

I showered again, it felt more natural than ever. I dried off feeling more like Justin all the time as I fixed his hair. From his closet I picked a shirt, tie and a cardigan  with some expensive pants, always being guided by Justin's mind.

I was just as much Justin as he ever was, but I needed to practice--on someone else--so I shrugged myself free of his body which crumpled to the floor. I scooped him up and laid him on the bed and left.

There was some kind of fascination I had with Justin, I knew I hadn't finished with him, but I wanted to watch him, when he was himself. So later that evening I headed to KOKO.

Last Seandays: In Deeper, part 1

I smirked as the two cops ran past me. I caught an eye of one and he frowned as he past me panting heavily.

I'd only been able to do this for a few weeks, take over the bodies of others. Hell I'd gotten myself in so much trouble, but I knew nobody would be able to catch me--what chance did they have?

But let me tell you about how I got here in the first place.

Last Seandays: Fresh smell

Clive had been waiting three months for the package and finally it had arrived.

The DHL guy helped get the heavy box into the house, inside there were many other boxes sealed with for storage written on them.

“What’s going on?” asked the guy.

“I’ve moving out going to live with my family, I’m renting the house out to the local university they are going to use it as a Frat house.”

The 60 year old thanked the DHL guy before dragging the heavy box into his bedroom.

Pulling the delivery note off the box he read the details;

Male, 19 years old, black hair, 5’ 9”, brown eyes, tattoo right shoulder, build: muscular, pre-programmed: Football scholarship.

Clive pulled out the bubble wrap, pulling out what looked like an unconscious heavy body matching the description on the paperwork.

Clive bit his lip, “perfect.”

Looking at his watch Clive quickly stripped and sat with the jocks head between his knee’s. Reaching down he pulled the jocks mouth open, wider than normal and pushed his feet in.

Slowly but surely the 60 year old eased himself into the jocks heavy set body. With his newly acquired strength he was able to stand and watch in the mirror as he pulled the jocks head over his own.

He quickly pulled on some jeans, some his nephew had left, it was all he had that would fit.

Last Seandays: Student Tryouts

"Yeah, he's sleeping like a baby."

"Dude, you're really going to do it? I mean, he's your dad!" Marcus whispered.

"Look, I've been inside you at school for the past few days and now they want to know why I've not been there! I think a call from my dad telling them I've been sick will work."

Seanday Reloaded: To Close

The doorbell rang again. "I'll get it," I shouted over the noise of the party. I looked at myself in the mirror and adjusted my tie. Yeah, I looked good--I always did.

I opened the door, and more of her friends filed in. I smiled tightly as they laughed and pushed at each other; all of them a good five years younger than me. "Mr. A," they acknowledged as they passed. I knew them all, I'd seen them before but not all together. My skin prickled, excitement or jealously I wasn't sure.

Following the new guests back to the party I glanced cautiously around the group. One of them gripped my arm, "This is a great birthday party," Peter told me, trying to be heard over the music.

I smiled. "Yes, had to do something special for my favourite niece," I replied in a raised voice looking over at Emily surrounded by her friends.

Peter tugged at my arm again and beckoning me to the quieter kitchen. "Sir, I don't want you to be mad or anything but we've got a special present for Em'."

Seanday Reloaded: Restroom Surprise

I burst into the restroom and did a quick recon of the area, I knew the CIA would be close behind me but they’d never caught me yet. I looked in the mirror, nobody expected a seventy year old to carry out the assassination, it was a perfect disguise but it was something I hated being only thirty myself. I jumped when I heard a voice call out, I’d been careless. “I’ll be out in a moment,” came a call from one of the cubicle. I spun around and saw a young guy looking over his shoulder smiling, I licked my dry tongue over my lips. “Perfect,” I whispered under my breath.

As he returned to his piss, I bundled into the cubicle taking him by surprise. I wrapped an arm around his neck, using my own strength I choked him into unconsciousness, and I grunted as I lifted him onto the seat of the john. I closed and locked the door; cramped space but there was no time to complain. I removed the old sweatpants and t-shirt and with a groan I stepped out of the old man who crumpled to the ground. I looked down in disgust at the man, he smelt and itched all the time I was in him I hated it.

Seanday Reloaded: Sentry One

Sgt. Banton walked up to the soldier glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching; satisfied he gives him a hard slap on the back; "You know soldier, I think you've been one of the best recruits I've had on this tour of duty." The soldier makes no comment or even moves.

Binton goes on, "Time ticks on, and you're about to be served your papers. You're being sent back home tomorrow, how do you feel about that?" The soldier remains both silent and motionless. "That's what I like about you son; strong and silent. You must have been guarding this gate for what the past four months? You know you scare the shit out of them, you're the best the boys have sent us."

There's a noise from behind; a cough. Binton turns to see another soldier, much smaller standing nearby. He salutes, "Private Jacks, reporting for duty. Sir!"

Seanday Reloaded: Desert Eyes

It was 2114, and my life was in tatters. I'd been accused of killing a tourist through neglect. It’s like trial by proxy, one robo-guide droids had malfunctioned and driven into a rock face. The tourist who'd rented the robo-guide hadn't buckled up and been killed. In this country, it's the droid's owner that is ultimately responsible, and I was up for termination. But I was on the run, into the desert heading for an empty checkpoint I knew.

Inside the checkpoint, I sent for one of the droids: Marcus. About thirty minutes later there was a gentle tap on the door. "Sir, are you there?" I recognised the soft gentle tones of the Mk226b. One of the most advanced models on my list, and the most realistic.

I opened the door, and Marcus stood there, his soft brown synthetic eyes had a relaxing effect on me. "Come inside quickly," I muttered looking around to see if he was followed.

"How can I help?" Marcus asked, in a soft unflustered tone.

"How old are you?"

"Three years since manufacture," he replied.

"And ageless," I added. "Strip."

Enough

By Bill Rowan

“Enough already.” Chris said to no one in particular. He was finally back in his own body after his latest stint as another Chris for the past few months. Mind you being the other Chris hadn’t been bad. Au contraire he had had a blast being the Aussie stud but after so many times of being transformed, transferred, possessed, and even cloned, he was beginning to lose his own identity. He enjoyed the experiences, many of them quite erotic, but he needed time to be himself for once and recharge. Doubtless that wouldn’t happen. There were some major obstacles to overcome if he wanted down-time.

For starters he would have to fly beneath the radar so people wouldn’t think to use magic on him. That was definitely a hard one since he didn’t really want to live somebody else’s life but he knew it would likely be the only way he could get some peace for a while. He didn’t want to give up acting as that was his first love, meaning his options might be a bit more limited. He was pretty sure whoever he did choose wouldn’t be too bummed out at being an A-list actor who just happened to be quite wealthy and hunky. And even if he could find such a person, how would he be able to pull off the transference since he himself had no magical abilities?

Thinking all this through, however, got Chris conflicted. On one hand he wanted a break but on the other he had become quite addicted to having himself ripped out of his body or turned into some inanimate object to be worn by some hot guy. Just thinking about that got him rather aroused and he definitely didn’t have time for that now. Rarely did he get to be himself for more than a day or two before someone else had their way with him so he would have to act quick if his plans were to succeed.

He thought back to one of the swaps a few years ago when a guy named Brian had taken his body for a Halloween superhero costume party. Brian had used a Draconian Katra that Mr. Cavanaugh, one of Chris’ frequent transformation instigators, had given him. It actually had been quite amusing to see the kid’s reaction at finding himself suddenly thrust into Chris’ body. Chris wondered if Brian still had the Katra and, if he did, would it still work? Didn’t matter anyway since Chris didn’t know how to contact Brian anymore. So what other option was available to him?

His mind then wandered to the possibility, remote as it was, that perhaps some residue magic had been left in his body. But even if there was, how could he activate it and would it be enough to achieve a swap? “Nope.” He told himself. “They wouldn’t be careless enough to leave any trace behind.”

He could call Mr. C. but then he would know Chris’ plan and that would likely defeat his purpose. So maybe Chris could get one of his friends to ask the crafty wizard, or whatever he was, for some help. Like maybe get an artifact that could be used…. No, two things wrong with that. He didn’t know how to get in touch with Mr. C. and whatever friend he asked would think he was crazy. After all body swapping and magic weren’t really possible, right? They would think him crazy. He resigned himself to never being able to accomplish his much-needed vacation and finally went to bed. Tomorrow was another day of filming and Chris had to be at the top of his game.

The next morning before he went to the studio he got up early to take a walk around the park. It always helped him clear his head. Fortunately no one had decided to hijack his body or to play some other mischief during the night. Maybe they would leave him alone for a while.

As he was walking along his usual path he came upon a small store sitting smack dab in the middle of the park. Now Chris was always very observant of details but somehow this store had escaped his notice before… or it had never been here. But that would be silly. Stores don’t just appear out of nowhere. Intrigued, he went closer to explore.

The windows showed him nothing other than his own reflection. A “CLOSED” sign hung in the window of the door, just below faded lettering – “M. Bostov     Clothing Store”. Why in the world would anyone put a clothing store in the middle of a park? Chris looked around, checking out the store. While there were very few people at the park, none of them seemed to notice anything unusual as they passed by. Was he seeing things? His curiosity being fully aroused, he tried the handle on the door which, despite the “CLOSED” sign, opened easily, allowing him access inside as a small bell above the door tinkled. The lighting was dim but Chris could still see rows of clothes and accessories that seemed to stretch on forever, odd given how small the building looked from outside.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

“Hello Mr. Evans. I’ve been expecting you.” Chris swung around to find a young man clad in head to toe leather behind him. “I’m Jace. Welcome.” Jace tried to remain calm but he was such a big fan of Chris Evans that he was rather flabbergasted to see his idol standing right there before him, even if he had been waiting for him to make an appearance. Chris shook the hand that was offered, smiling at the young man but still rather befuddled by the strange store. “Follow me. I have exactly what you desire.” Okay, that was strange. Why would Jace be expecting him or know anything about what he desired? Nonetheless Chris followed the young man, not quite understanding why he was trusting him.

They wound their way through a myriad of merchandise, finally ending up at what was obviously a section devoted entirely to leather. Leather pants, leather vests, leather harnesses, leather jackets. If Chris had been in the market for something leather today, this was definitely the place to find it.

“I’m really not interested in buying leather today. Thanks just the same.”

“Let me show you something that you can try on and if you find you don’t like it, fine. But I think you’ll like what I have to offer.” Jace was definitely persistent. Chris had to give the young man that. Besides what could it hurt to try on a jacket, if only to amuse his host? Jace pulled out a distressed-looking brown jacket. One that looked to be too small to fit Chris’ bulked-up torso.

“Uh… I don’t think that will fit me, Jace.” The jacket was quite obviously meant for someone not quite as large as Chris but as Jace handed the jacket to him, Chris felt the strangest compulsion to try it on.

“I think you will find it fits you perfectly, Mr. Evans. Let me show you to the changing cubicle right over here.” Jace motioned forward where there was a booth with curtains. “If you please, sir.” Chris entered the booth, whereupon Jace handed him the jacket.

Trade

by Carlos Palanca

It was a seemingly normal Saturday afternoon as Ben arrives at his friend, Justin’s house. He rang the doorbell to let him or any of his family members know that he’s at the door. A second or two later, he heard footsteps coming towards the door. He heard the door locks click and the door opens, revealing Justin’s mom, Mrs. Shepherd from the other side of it. 

Mrs. Shepherd greets Ben and he politely greets her back. He asks if Justin’s in the house. She informs Ben her son is inside but she also tells him that Justin is grounded and can’t leave the house. Ben assures her that he is just here to borrow something from Justin. She lets him in and tells him to head straight into Justin’s room and she’ll be in the kitchen if they need anything.

When Ben reaches Justin’s room, he notices that the door is closed. He knocks and says, “Justin, open up. It’s Ben.”

“It’s unlocked!” said Justin from the other side. Ben opens the door and sees Justin stripping off his clothes. “About time you got here! I thought that you weren’t going to show up!”