Author: M Wills

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Two of a Kind 1: Connor

A bully finds an alien device that allows him to transform into other people and uses his new powers to torment the student he loathes in Two of a Kind 1: Connor.

Connor roams the campus dominating others with his bulk and aggression, taking what he wants and leaving the other students terrified. He hates everyone but especially Ethan and his girlfriend, Maya. Ethan is such a pathetic wimp and diminutive Maya has a strange fierceness that cows Connor.

It’s fine. Connor can deal with it. He has other targets.

And then Ethan and Maya get him kicked off the football team just because he punched Ethan a tiny little bit. Barely a black eye.

Simmering with rage, Connor chances upon an alien device fallen from the sky that gives him the power to transform himself and others. Now, with the power to turn into an exact copy of anyone he’s touched, he resumes bullying Ethan with a vengeance and also discovers that this power lets him indulge his deepest fantasies.

Connor can transform into everyone around Ethan. Friends. Teachers. Strangers. Tormenting Ethan with the possibility that Connor could be anywhere and anyone. But this power isn’t just for revenge. As Connor turns into gorgeous teachers and hot strangers he can’t resist exploring everything about these seductive bodies. And along with the bodies come their thoughts and memories and emotions, all of which threaten to derail Connor’s planned retribution by making him actually care about someone for once.

This is Connor’s story.

Part 1 of 3.

It was a shame that people didn’t carry cash anymore because it made it that much harder for Connor to bully Ethan into handing over his lunch money.

“Fortunately for you, I take card,” Connor growled when he finally cornered Ethan by the trashcans behind the cafeteria and shoved him up against the wall.

In high school they no longer had ‘recess’. Now it was called ‘free time’ but was basically the same thing. Time do to whatever you wanted. And what Connor wanted was to terrorize Ethan.

There was something about the nerd that was just so punchable. His stupid, dumbass face with the blonde peach fuzz on his cheeks and the goofy grin. His awkwardly tall, skinny body that made his head look enormous. His constant need to correct people with a reedy “Well, actually…”. Like now.

“Well, actually,” Ethan said. “My money is on my phone.”

“What about all that prize money?” Connor said, grabbing the scruff of Ethan’s shirt and shaking him.

“W-well, actually…” Ethan began, his glasses beginning to slide down his nose.

Was it just a fucking stutter? Part of his fight or flight response?

“Say ‘well, actually’ one more time,” Connor threatened, raising his fist.

“It’s my girlfriend’s prize,” Ethan said.

Everyone in James Martin High School knew about the prize. They’d had a whole assembly where the principal, Mrs. Morgan, had made this huge announcement. It was even featured in their town paper. Ethan and his dork girlfriend, Maya, had cracked some sort of code or found a bug or something—Connor didn’t really understand—that that had earned them a bounty from one of the major AI tech companies. What Connor did understand was that it had come with a $10,000 prize and he wanted a piece of that nerd money.

Connor was short and squat. Burly (or ‘big boned’ as his mother used to insist back when she gave a shit). Angry piggy eyes and a pug nose that whistled when he breathed. Head shaved bald because he thought it made him more menacing. A mosaic of acne across his wide face.

He’d failed two grades and was only sticking with high school because that was where he felt most in control. The extra time had given him bigger muscles than his peers. The better to torment them with. As a linebacker on the football team, he was encouraged to use the aggression that constantly fizzed through him on his opponents. He delighted in slamming into them, knocking to the ground and getting rewarded with high-fives from his teammates. The only time his team would really interact with him.

Off the field, Connor had to be a little more secretive with his brawn. He swaggered through the halls, timing his bullying to avoid the cameras or any teachers that loitered in the hallways. Aside from the classes, high school was a breeze. He took what he wanted and most people were afraid to tell him ‘no’. Who needed friends when he had power?

Now, secluded behind the dumpsters, Connor brought his face close to Ethan’s, breathing his sour breath into Ethan’s face as the nerd wriggled and gasped. “Then you better go bring me some of your girlfriend’s money.”

“Hey, let go of him,” a woman said from behind.

Connor turned, still gripping Ethan by the shirt. Ethan’s girlfriend, Maya, stood there, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. She was tiny. Slender frame. Wavy brunette hair that spilled down her shoulders and with a scent that made Connor want to bury his nose in it. Pouty face with big brown eyes. More cute than nerd. Hell, he could see sometimes when she moved she was hiding a tight body beneath those drab clothes. Perfect size tits for burying his face in between. Perfect sized ass for burying his cock in between. His manhood twitched at the thought.

She should have been laughable. Completely helpless in front of him. But, somehow, her being a girl made her more intimidating.

“Let go of him,” Connor mocked, affecting a high pitched voice.

But he released Ethan, pushing him roughly against the wall for good measure and stepping back to frown at him. He took a step towards Maya and saw the fear appear in her eyes but she didn’t back down. Connor would never admit it – and couldn’t really even fully comprehend it – but women terrified him and angered him in equal measure. As a well YouTube’d, red-pilled man, he, of course, knew that a woman’s role was subservience. They were to be dominated before they yanked men down from their natural order at the top to suck their male energy out before climbing up the men’s desiccated husks.

But they also – according to Connor’s well-researched sources on the internet – had power. Fucking society was organized around making them great and making men suck. Again, according to his sources, everyone wanted Connor to be ashamed to be a man and he had internalized that shame. Though, Connor couldn’t exactly remember having that shame until the manosphere had identified it.

Men weren’t supposed to punch women. They were supposed to manipulate them. Make them insecure and needy and destroy their self-esteem until they depended on men. But what if you couldn’t? Women were mostly smarter than Connor. And the disgust that radiated off them when Connor came near made him ashamed. How could they make him seem so small and weak with just the tiniest furrow of their eyebrows? The smallest snicker? He wanted to impress them so much and that’s where their deep power lay. He was aware he was giving his male power away but, with the help of the online manosphere, he was trying to work on that. For now, Connor contented himself with using his excessive brawn on the other male students, dominating them physically both on and off the football field in the hopes that this would impress some women. So far, no luck.

So as Maya closed in, Connor stepped back and raised his hands in mock surrender. “He’s all yours.”

Connor stomped away, feigning a loss of interest while stewing inside. How could something so small and fragile – a woman! – make him feel even smaller? Before he turned the corner he heard Maya asking Ethan if he was okay and Connor shivered in disgust. It wasn’t fair. How was it possible that some dipshit like Ethan had a girlfriend but a muscly specimen of a man like Connor didn’t? And Connor was on the football team and everything. Sometimes he wished his rage was good for more than just a few stolen dollars at lunch.

Connor flexed his muscles and pounded his fist as he walked, psyching himself up, assuring himself that he was, indeed, the alpha male of this school. The biggest and the baddest. To make himself feel better, Connor sought out the group of freshman who could reliably be found next to the gym playing some sort of card game involving dragons and magic. He kicked dirt on their game then nabbed their lunch from their lunch boxes, threatening it would be worse for them all if they ever told.

His stolen lunch was well-flavored with their fear and yet he still felt like Ethan had gotten away. Connor returned to the cafeteria, where he spotted Ethan and Maya at a far table. He kept his distance, waiting for them to split up so he could have Ethan all to himself. God, it was disgusting how they kissed. How she insisted on holding his hand. Connor worked himself up into a rage wondering why someone like Ethan could get a girl but Connor had no one.

When the bell sounded signaling the end of lunch, Maya kissed Ethan on the cheek and then was whisked away with her friends while Ethan went the opposite way. Connor tailed him as he crossed the quad towards the science buildings, closing in as Ethan entered the stairwell. Connor followed close behind as quietly as he could, taking the stairs two at a time so they reached the second floor landing together.

Before Ethan knew what was going on, Connor grabbed Ethan’s backpack, yanked open the door to the janitor’s closet and hurled him inside. Connor joined him, slamming the door behind them and flicking on the light above. The bare bulb swung back and forth, making Ethan look even more pale and sweaty. His eyes were wild as he realized his was trapped in here all alone with Connor.

“Now,” Connor said, “Where were we?”

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Flip Side 1

A futuristic remote control accidentally body swaps eighteen-year-old Nolan with his awful – and awfully sexy – stepmother in Flip Side 1.

Nolan is eighteen years old and his stepmother, Tiffany, has been awful to him ever since the day she married his father. When Nolan’s father passed away and left everything to her, she got even worse. She doesn’t care about his failing grades, she refuses to help him with the bully at school, and she’s decided to kick him out of the house. But her own ambitions come back to bite her.

Desperate to show off to her company so that she can get the CEO position, Tiffany steals a prototype remote control from her lab and brings it home. When she and Nolan get in an argument, the remote accidentally discharges and swaps them into each other’s bodies. Now Nolan is body swapped in his evil – but sexy – stepmom’s body, and she’s body swapped into his eighteen-year-old – and awkward – teen one. In order to swap back, Nolan will need to pretend to be her so that he can steal the instructions from her lab.

But for Nolan, it’s not all bad being his own stepmom. She’s incredibly hot. And her body is incredibly sensual. While she suffers as him, he enjoys being her and exploring every inch of his delightful new body.

Nolan

I filled my backpack with soapy water and scrubbed it in the kitchen sink. My school books sat on the counter next to me, the edges of the pages still streaked with grease and whatever tomato sauce I couldn’t wipe off. At least, I hoped it was tomato sauce.

That afternoon as I’d been leaving school, Derick and his friends cornered me. While one of them distracted me, Derick snuck around behind me and grabbed my backpack, unzipping it and dumping the remains of his lunch inside. Then Derick and his pals ran away howling with laughter. As if it wasn’t already humiliating enough to have to take the school bus home as an eighteen-year-old, my backpack smelled like old spaghetti while the sauce slowly soaked into the pages of my books.

It hadn’t been the first time Derick had singled me out for bullying. Not even the first time this week. There was the trombone incident. The lunch tray “accident”. The homework theft. Not to mention the snide remarks and general intimidation.

I didn’t dare tell the teachers about it all. I’d made that mistake once already. There was a prolonged “investigation” that no one could tell me anything about, and then it just…ended. No punishment for Derick. No closure for me. It just made Derick bully me more secretively, away from the security cameras and the prying eyes of other students.

I dumped the soapy water out of my backpack and shook it before leaving it on the marble kitchen countertop to dry. There was the sound of a key in the front door, the click of a latch, and then the click clack of high heels coming around the corner. I sighed inwardly. Tiffany was home early. Another thing I didn’t want to deal with.

My stepmom came around the corner and I could tell she was in a foul mood. What else was new? She dropped her purse onto the counter nearest the door and stopped suddenly, her blue eyes flicking from the soaking wet backpack to the greasy textbooks to my morose appearance. She furrowed her brow.

“Eww, get this off my clean counters,” Tiffany said, poking at one of my dirty textbooks.

Her pretty face was set in a scowl and she used the back of one finger to swipe at the lock of blonde hair that had escaped her bun. She wore a silver blouse and a matching pencil skirt that emphasized her petite figure. A tiny black and silver belt wound around her slim waist. The silver heels gave her an extra two inches of height but still left her at least half a head shorter than me.

“I’m cleaning it, I’ll take care of it,” I replied sullenly, a hint of whine in my voice that I couldn’t quite control.

“Ugh. Whatever, I can’t deal with this right now. Just make sure you leave the counters clean.”

“Why? So you can use them to not cook on?” I shot back.

My stepmom was a famously terrible cook. Why on earth she needed such a huge kitchen with all the fanciest appliances boggled the mind. Like everything with Tiffany, it was all about appearances. Hell, appearances were her whole job. She was vice president of marketing at an “innovention” company—whatever the hell that meant—so it was all about how things could be made appealing to the general public to buy. It extended to her personal life, where she was sweet as could be to me when my dad was around but the mask came off in the privacy of our home. Correction. Her home. My dad had left it to her in his will. A fact she never failed to remind me of.

I didn’t understand what my dad had seen in Tiffany. Maybe he’d been blinded by her beauty? Because (I had to grudgingly admit) she was gorgeous. A petite, blonde firecracker.

“Excuse me?!” Tiffany said, her icy blue eyes cold with fury.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, grabbing my textbooks and tossing them into my still-soggy backpack to take upstairs. “Derick was fucking with me again today but I don’t expect you give a shit.”

As I brushed past her she remarked: “Maybe if you weren’t such a sissy he wouldn’t mess with you.”

My cheeks flushed red with anger and embarrassment. The choice of words was intentional. When I was younger I used to sneak into my stepmom’s closet and try on her clothes. I would stand in front of her full length closet mirror in heels that were too big and a dress that didn’t billow out or hug the right places but I would imagine that it did.

The first time Tiffany caught me I claimed it was just curiosity and she seemed to let it go. The second time she caught me I had no such excuse. She kept an eye on me after that. Even when I pulled the laundry out of the dryer she was there with a snide remark like “Make sure you grab the right panties, sissy boy.” She needn’t have worried because I soon grew too big to fit into her clothes. My feet grew too long, belly too tubby, arms too thick. I was a beefy guy with a thick body and a wide face with a mop of unruly brown hair. There was nothing pretty about me.

I stopped crossdressing but I never stopped imagining what it would be like to be a woman. Even just for a day. To be pretty. Dainty. Wanted.

I turned to my stepmom, my soggy backpack slung over one shoulder. “Who hurt you to make you so mean?”

She snorted and grabbed a wine glass. “I never wanted kids,” she said, as she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of white to pour into her glass. “You were part of the package. A little, snotty kid. Maybe if you’d been a real man instead of a pussy I wouldn’t have minded so much. But I was willing to overlook you because I loved your dad so much.”

“Loved him or his money?” I said.

She sipped her wine and glared at me coldly. “Two weeks,” she said.

“Two weeks what?”

“Consider this your eviction notice. You’re eighteen. An adult. So I don’t have to deal with this shit in my own home anymore. I want you out in two weeks.”

“What?”

“And you should be grateful I’m even giving you notice. Where’s my ‘thank you’?”

God, I wanted to smack that smug smile off her face. But I couldn’t do it. Violence wasn’t in my nature. My stepmom had a mean streak I couldn’t hope to match.

“Here’s your ‘thank you’,” I said, flipping her off.

“You just lost a week, sissy. One week and then you’re out of here. Maybe Derick will let you stay with him. He can build you a doghouse because you’re already his bitch.” I felt tears burning my eyes and stomped upstairs to my room. I slammed the door and dropped the backpack on the floor, wiping my face angrily. What the fuck was I going to do?

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Swapped by the Mob 3

In the finale, Andrew remains stuck swapped into his wife’s body and his only hope of escape from the mob’s high-end brothel is to learn to use his new body to pleasure as many rich men as possible in Swapped by the Mob 3.

In the conclusion of the Swapped by the Mob series, Andrew is still swapped and forcibly feminized in his wife’s body while still stuck in the mob’s high-end brothel. There he must earn his body back by making enough money to pay off his debt. The only way to do this is by selling his wife’s body, revealing every inch of skin, and submitting to as many clients as possible.

Madame Elizabeth seems to delight in singling him out for punishment, whisking him away to her office and making him pleasure her. That’s where Andrew discovers the secret of his new body. The desire for punishment. The lust that rises with each slap and each derogatory name. It’s the only bright spot in his dark situation.

Because Andrew is unable to compete with the other men-turned-women in the brothel. They’re too classy, too beautiful, too enchanting. They take all the clients and he never even gets a chance.

Plus, his wife is on the outside borrowing even more money and spiraling him into ever-increasing debt. It’s like she’s enjoying being the man. Does she even want her body back? Is Andrew doomed to be a prostitute forever?

It’s only when he gives up completely that he discovers something that sets him apart. If he can tease men, taunt them, ridicule them until they have no choice but to purchase him and punish him deeply and exquisitely, then he can earn his way out…and soak in the pleasure of shame that burns into ecstasy from being so forcibly feminized.

Andrew followed Madame Elizabeth back to the main foyer. His thoughts were racing from his recent meeting with Vanessa. She was spending money she didn’t have, forcing him deeper into debt. He was paying for his bad judgement a thousand times over. The thought of being stuck in this brothel, in his wife’s body, forced to service hundreds of strangers made him release a choked sob. He cut if off as Madame Elizabeth whipped around to look at him. He expected a sharp slap but was surprised when Madame Elizabeth instead led him back to an inner office through a door that had been disguised to look like a blank wall.

He stood rigidly in the middle of the small room, looking about. It was sparse. A desk at one end between two ornate chairs. A polished wooden cabinet taller than Andrew to one side of the room.

Madame Elizabeth closed the door behind them then circled around to perch on her desk in front of him. She plucked a tissue from a tissue box and handed it to him. That simple gesture of kindness broke Andrew.

He grabbed the tissue and collapsed into the red velvet chair, sobbing. He couldn’t hold back as the emotion rushed out of him. Andrew always been the stoic but it felt cathartic to release this aching fear. When his tissue was soaked he plucked another from the box and cried.

Madame Elizabeth watched him silently with her piercing green eyes for a few minutes until he’d cried himself out.

Finally, she spoke. “Dear girl,” she said, reaching towards him. Andrew recoiled but she only caressed his cheek, her fingers surprisingly warm and tender. “I have seen so much betrayal in my time here. You are not the first to find that the owner does not want their body back.”

“No,” Andrew said, wiping his nose with the tissue and pushing his wife’s silky hair back out of his eyes. “She didn’t say that. She’s just making my debt bigger because she can’t get a job.”

Madame Elizabeth’s green eyes softened and she shook her head. “You will be better off accepting that you are Vanessa now and forever.”

“No!” Andrew snapped, then glanced up quickly in case he’d angered Madame Elizabeth. She looked at him with an enigmatic smile but said nothing, her eyes boring into him until he looked down. “No,” he said more quietly. “We’ll swap back when I’ve paid off my debt.”

“Very well,” Madame Elizabeth said, standing suddenly.

Her look sharpened and Andrew sensed the change in the room. He sat up straight, hands in his lap, awaiting her instruction.

“Get yourself together and get back to work,” Madame Elizabeth snapped.

She opened the door and he was halfway through when she called his name.

“Vanessa.”

Andrew turned to look at her.

“If you want to pay off your debt quicker, you will need to earn more than your counterpart can spend.” She looked him up and down, appraising him. “A girl like you would be in high demand as a prostitute. If you can play the part.”

She was right. Strip clubs and cam girls weren’t going to do it.

Andrew returned to his room and redid his makeup. His mascara had streaked from his crying. His skin was a mess. His hair disheveled.

He started over, wiping everything away and reapplying as he’d learned from Gabriella. Gabriella. The room seemed so empty without her.

Andrew stared at his wife’s soft face in the mirror as he made her up and combed her mocha-brown hair. As he reapplied his red lipstick, the image of his wife sucking a stranger’s cock came back to him. He shivered, scrunching Vanessa’s little nose in distaste at the memory. Though he would need to do so much more before he could be free.

As he completed his makeup his mind continued to dwell on the events of yesterday. God, he could still taste the cock in his mouth. Remembered how it felt to wrap his wife’s sweet lips around it. And how horny she’d looked in the mirror. How slutty. How good that had made him feel watching her. Punishing her. Punishing himself. The thought made him ache once in his core and he shook it away.

He did his makeup thicker today. Blush and eyeliner and mascara and lipliner. Everything he remembered.

He shucked off the cami top and jeans and flipped through his closet for a dress fit for a prostitute. He found one slinky and sparkly that clung to his wife’s shapely form, buoying up his breasts and revealing miles of leg. Silver high heels finished the outfit, forcing him to balance precariously. When he stepped in front of the mirror there was something missing. Though his wife’s body was dressed like a prostitute, she didn’t look like one. The woman in the reflection was timid. Scared. She looked like she was playing dress-up, not out to conquer men.

Andrew stood up straighter and smoothed out his dress, his wife’s soft hands travelling down his body. He thought about his debt. He thought about getting free. Tried to buck himself up with some sort of motivation but it didn’t help. He still looked terrified.

Returning downstairs, he was met with a sea of scantily clad women. They stood around in their groups and Andrew joined the prostitutes. It was obvious which group they were. Skimpy dresses. Confident looks. Bodies screaming sex. Wry smiles. They’d mastered their sexuality in a way that Andrew hadn’t yet. His wife’s body still scared him. The actions he would have to take in her body scared him even more.

Andrew lined up with them, wobbling slightly on his heels. No one spoke to him. A statuesque blonde glanced at him and dismissed him. A brunette to his right tittered to her friend and gestured his way. Andrew could see why. He did look ridiculous. His makeup was second rate. His outfit didn’t fit his attitude. He didn’t belong here.

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Friends With Benefits 3

Phil’s new possession powers are addictive and he starts trying to change his best friend to suit his needs. Though he finds that Annie has more willpower than his first target in Friends With Benefits 3.

The jade skull has already rewritten one life. Now Phil wants to rewrite two.

When Phil and Annie first discovered the skull’s power of possession and mind control, they used it together, two outcasts taking delicious revenge on Kylie, the gorgeous blonde cheerleader who had spent years making their lives miserable. The results exceeded every fantasy. The cruel, untouchable Kylie is now Annie’s devoted girlfriend and Phil’s most willing secret. Compliant. Eager. Endlessly moldable.

But possession and mind control has a way of making a person hungry for more.

Phil watches Annie and Kylie together and feels something shift inside him. Annie loves him like a friend. Trusts him completely. Has no idea that his ambitions have quietly expanded. What if the jade skull could give him everything? Both women at his beck and call, their desires reshaped around his own?

Kylie was easy. Bitchy but hollow where her confidence once lived, she bent like warm wax under possession and mind control. Annie is something else entirely. Strong-willed, sharp, and stubbornly herself, she resists in ways Kylie never did. Phil can slip into her mind but he cannot hold the controls. His suggestions dissolve. His commands fade. She surfaces every time, completely unaware of the invisible war being fought inside her own head.

Still, Phil is patient. And patient pressure leaves marks.

Little by little, Annie grows bolder. Posting more, hiding less, her boundaries softening in ways she attributes to Kylie’s influence. She has no idea the real influence is Phil, watching from inside, savoring every moment of her intimate life while quietly tightening his grip.

Friends With Benefits 3 is the scorching continuation of the series that explores the darkest edges of possession and mind control, obsession, and the terrifying intimacy of knowing someone from the inside out.

Some friendships come with very dangerous benefits.

Annie

I’m not strictly supposed to be on the grounds of my old high school at all, but I’m dating Kylie now so I guess I’m her guest. I sit on the bleachers, flipping through my phone to follow up on the latest from my online friends about their exploits investigating the occult and occasionally sipping water from my water bottle. I’m even more interested in their investigations now that I’ve found something that is truly supernatural. If the skull is real, what else is real?

Kylie is down on the field, coaching the cheerleading squad. I look up every now and then to watch her. Her blonde ponytail bounces as she demonstrates the moves, long leg kicking into the air. She’s so limber. So sexy.

It’s still so strange to me that Kylie is my girlfriend. Up until recently she hated me. That is, when she thought about me at all. Then Phil found that little jade skull that lets us possess people without their knowledge and change their minds from the inside. We used it on Kylie, Phil possessing her and making her worship me before the two of us used our newfound control over her to start making her show off online. Mostly softcore erotica. Topless pics. Feet pics. A little bit of cosplay.

It’s brought in some extra money for her so it’s not like we’re taking total advantage. Then Phil and I had a fight about the skull and I swore off using it at all, trusting that Phil would do the right thing. But I’m beginning to have second thoughts. That instant decision to cede the skull to Phil seems a little hasty. And then I—god, I cringe whenever I recall this—I touched myself while talking about Phil. It felt good in the moment but that feeling faded overnight and now I just feel…blegh. Kind of awkward, to be honest. Like having a sex dream about my best friend, only I was completely awake.

But the skull did give me Kylie. And when she kisses me and makes me all gooey inside, it’s hard to say manipulating her has been a bad thing. She truly loves me now, even if it did take a little magical persuasion.

And, I can’t even believe it, but I think I’m actually falling for her. At first it was just a good revenge fuck, watching her dive between my legs and devour me to orgasm. But the more we hang out the more I like her. Probably why I’m sitting on the rock-hard bleachers letting my ass get cold just so I can be near her.

I reach for my water bottle and take another sip. Mid-sip I choke and splutter, sending water down my front as I sit up suddenly. I blink rapidly and glance around as if I’m trying to figure out where I am but really just looking around to see if anyone saw me make a mess of myself.

I rise impulsively, tired of sitting here, and carefully make my way down the bleachers. I’m a little ungainly. Slightly off-balance. Probably because my butt’s a little numb from the bleachers. Kylie glances my way and gives me a little wave. I wave back but don’t stop. We’ll meet up later. I’ll text her to let her know where I’m going once I figure that out myself.

I wander down to the Main Street shopping mall. It’s one of those outdoors things, rows of old, red brick shops filled with cafes and nightclubs and boutiques all lining a pedestrianized street. My eyes dart here and there, watching people come and go. I feel like I’m evaluating them for some unknown purpose. Just restless, I guess.

I stop into the little coffee shop that Phil always insists we go to whenever we’re down here so he can get one of their cinnamon buns. They’re too sweet for me. I don’t even know why I’m here.

I march up to the counter and ask for a cinnamon bun, realizing after the fact that Phil’s cravings must have rubbed off on me. The waitress hands it to me in a wax paper bag. My mouth is already salivating before the first bite and I sink my teeth into it. It’s soft and buttery and way too sweet but I chew slowly and moan appreciatively just like Phil would have done if he were here.

Returning to the street, I resume my aimless searching as I devour the cinnamon bun too quickly. I’m always making fun of Phil for gulping down his food and now here I am doing the same. I lick my fingers and toss the bag into a nearby garbage can.

I pause in front of a clothing store. The window display holds a mannequin wearing a sheer dress that clings to her form and shows off way too much skin for my taste. Not my thing. More like Kylie’s. Or what Phil has made Kylie want to dress in, anyway.

Still, I go inside the boutique. Maybe I’ll find Kylie’s next outfit. Flicking through the racks, everything I find is way too sexy for me. Sheer or tight or low cut or short. I’m accosted by a saleslady and I want to just silently leave but something keeps me in place.

“Can I help you with anything?” She asks cheerfully.

I speak before I even know what I’m going to say. “What do you think my size is?”

I decide I’m testing her to see what kind of bias she has. She looks me up and down and then finds a sheer white sheath-style dress in the appropriate size, holding it up to me. It’s flimsy and tiny but she insists it will fit. I take it and go to the change rooms in the back.

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Freaking Friday

A mother and son accidentally swap bodies and have to learn to understand each other in order to swap back in Freaking Friday.

What if the universe decided to solve your problems the hard way?

Freaking Friday is a sizzling, adults-only erotic take on the classic story Freaky Friday, but with a mother and son body swap.

Rebecca is a curvy, warm-hearted single mom with a career she loves and a love life she has quietly given up on. Her son Colin is a smart, directionless college student on the verge of throwing his future away. The two of them can barely share a breakfast table without an argument erupting. They love each other deeply and understand each other not at all.

Then fate intervenes.

One ordinary morning, Colin wakes up in his mother’s soft, familiar – and suddenly enticing  – curves. Rebecca opens her eyes inside the lean, restless body of her twenty-year-old son. No explanation. No instructions. Just the jarring, intimate reality of living inside someone else’s skin.

Colin must navigate his mother’s world. Her job, her friendships, and the quietly persistent coworker who has been flirting with Rebecca for months and clearly wants to take things further. Rebecca steps into Colin’s life and finds herself face to face with the girl he has been too shy to pursue, now counting on her to make the move he never could.

Each of them is determined to do right by the other. But inhabiting a new body comes with unexpected discoveries about desire, about pleasure, and about the surprising joy of experiencing the world from a completely different perspective.

The mother and son body swap that was meant to teach them empathy ends up teaching them something far more intimate.

Colin

Loud banging on my bedroom door startles me awake.

“Get up, Colin,” my mom calls from the hallway. “You’re going to be late for class.”

How does she keep track of my course schedule?

She keeps knocking on the door until I call out in a scratchy morning voice, “Okay, I’m awake! Jesus.”

Finally, some fucking silence. I blink awake slowly. There’s a crick in my neck from where I’ve fallen asleep half-sitting up but slumped against my headboard. My video game controller is still in my hand from the night before, the game paused at a dialogue screen. My mouth tastes gross and I don’t think I brushed my teeth last night. I’m still wearing yesterday’s shirt. My laptop is propped open on the bed and when I open it to start browsing, the porn video from yesterday begins to autoplay. A woman loudly moans before I can shut the window. I hope mom didn’t hear it.

I rise and stretch, my shoulders popping, before schlumping to the bathroom. I’m desperately in need of a haircut. My normally short hair is spilling down over my ears but not in a stylish way. I haven’t shaved in a week, hoping that the ragged patches of scruff will somehow come together in a way that makes me look rugged rather than homeless. No luck so far.

I go through my short routine. Toothbrush. Deodorant. Comb through my hair. Good enough.

Returning to my bedroom, I step over the detritus on the floor. Mom hates the state of my room and makes me clean up on a weekly basis. I don’t see why I should when no one ever comes here but me? She’s constantly exhorting me to put some effort into useless things like that.

I bend to swipe my favorite shirt off the floor—the black one with the cool concentric electric blue design—but I remember that this morning is one of my two classes with Morgan. I’ve been crushing on her all semester and I think we’ve been flirting but I’m too nervous to confirm by asking her out. Instead, I crack jokes and try to read any hints in her body language or how she speaks to me, hoping she’ll touch my arm in a way that lets me know she’s into me, or say something subtle like ‘I’m really into you’. Morgan has featured in more than a few of my fantasies.

Mom’s washed my laundry but I’ve just left it in the basket on my bedroom floor. Now I dig through for an outfit. A better tee shirt. Clean jeans.

My mom is already in the kitchen when I get downstairs. She’s dressed for work in her familiar outfit of a black skirt and white button-down top, the top button open to allow a hint of her—shudder—cleavage. Her high-protein cottage cheese and fruit bowl is already prepared. She’s always on some diet or other. Constantly battling her weight, though to me it doesn’t seem like she’s fat. Full figured, sure. Butto the extent that I think about her shape at all—which is never—she just seems…mom-figured.

I loom over her from behind, still half asleep, while she opens the fridge and hands me the milk without a word. Even with her heels on I’m a good foot taller than her.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal with milk and slouch at the table. Mom sips her coffee and does that thing where she hovers in the kitchen, debating how to tell me something to which I may react poorly to. I tense involuntarily.

“Did you fall asleep playing video games again?” Mom asks in a tone that suggests she’s joking-but-not-really.

“Yes.”

She sighs. “If you’re going to be serious about your classes you need to get a good night’s sleep.”

Here we go.

“I’m fine, mom.” Even as I say it I feel like a kid instead of a twenty year old.

“It’s just that these classes are expensive and if you’re not going to focus then you should save the money and find something else to do.”

“I’m doing fine,” I say. And I am. C’s are fine.

“Do you want to stay in college? Or are you just putting off adulthood for a few more years?”

It’s a good question. It’s what dad would have wanted me to do but is it what I want to do? What makes me so irritated is that mom might be right. I don’t know. Certainly my motivation for today is to see Morgan.

“Can we talk about this later?” I say, putting my bowl in the sink and grabbing my backpack.

“It’s always later,” she sighs.

“I’m about to go to class.”

“I just think we should have this talk soon.”

“We can have it the same time we have the talk about your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?”

“Jason.”

She blushes to the tip of her nose. A total tell. “We’re just work friends.”

“You talk about him a lot for just being work friends. Look, I don’t have anything against him but I’m a little old for a father figure.”

“Jason and I are just friends,” she repeats.

Now I’ve got her on the back foot and the conversation is no longer about me.

“Uh huh. What kind of benefits go with that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know…” I make a series of random noises and finger gestures.”

She huffs. “We’re going to talk about this sooner or later.”

“Great, I choose later. Bye.” I hurry out the door and to the bus stop.

Living off campus with mom saves a lot of money but it means a thirty minute bus ride. I think I’m the only student in the whole university who still lives with their parents. That’s what it feels like, anyway.

The bus ride gives me plenty of time to catch up on the videos I missed overnight. It’s only when the bus deposits me at the edge of campus that I realize I should have finished my essay. I hurry to the lecture hall, plop down on a seat, pull out my laptop and hastily dash off a thousand words as other students file in. Writing is one of the few things that has always come easily to me. So easy it takes almost no effort. Maybe why I enjoy it.

As I hit send—seconds before the deadline—a voice to my right pipes up.

“Cutting it a little close there, Colin.”

My entire body blossoms with warmth. I smile up at Morgan. Jesus, she’s adorable. A perfect face. Soft nose. Piercing jade green eyes. Long, brunette hair spilling down her shoulders. Gentle lips. I wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips.

“I like to live on the edge,” I smirk, playing it cool even while every part of me aches for her.

She smiles. That gorgeous, perfect smile. A hint of white teeth. The little dimples.

Read the rest here!

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Returning the Favor

Drew gets out of his hardworking life by using a strange device to steal his wife’s seductive body in Returning the Favor.

Drew has hit a dead end. He’s in his mid-forties. Tired of his job. His life. His wife. Melissa is in her late forties and sits at home all day, lost on the internet, barely taking care of the house or him or even herself. Drew can’t even remember the last time they had sex. Though he’s still attracted to her, she shoots him down every time, preferring to nag him over every little thing rather than become intimate.

Drew’s only happiness is with his online role-playing partner. Together, they act out their body swapping fantasies where Drew pretends to steal his wife’s body and improve her life while having some intimate time with his partner along the way. Too bad it could never actually happen.

Until the day his role-playing partner reveals he found a scientific device that claims to do just that.

Intrigued and desperate, Drew uses it to steal his wife’s body while leaving his old body an empty husk. Inside his wife’s body, he sets to work repairing her relationship with her friends and getting herself back in shape. All the while he takes the time to enjoy the pleasure of his new body, and reward his role-playing partner for the opportunity.

But even with his new life, Drew is still missing something: youth. So he embarks on a plan to swap again for a younger model.

The taxi pulled up the driveway of Drew’s house. As the driver got out to retrieve the bags from the trunk, Drew sat in the back seat with his eyes closed for another few seconds. Exhausted from his flight and mentally preparing himself for his wife’s reception, Drew only opened his eyes after the driver cleared his throat a few times. He paid the driver and stood near the front stoop as the taxi reversed down the driveway of Drew’s modest two-story suburban home and disappeared down a road surrounded on either side by almost identical modest two-story houses.

Jetlag got worse with every trip. Maybe it was Drew’s age that made it so. At 43, he couldn’t just shrug off a bad night’s sleep anymore. The prescription for liquid melatonin—and a business class seat—helped him get through each flight, but he still awoke at every destination with a crick in his neck and a throbbing pain down his back. In the three years since he’d become Executive Director at a large auto parts company, he’d been sent all over the country. Often multiple times a year. Travelling was a young man’s game and, not for the first time, Drew thought about quitting. He was nowhere near the age where he could tap into his retirement, plus it would mean their medical coverage would lapse. Then his wife, Melissa, would have to get a job.

Boy, they’d had that conversation enough in the past year to last a lifetime.

Drew pulled up the handle of his suitcase and bumped it up the porch steps. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside and was greeted by no one and nothing. They didn’t have a dog who would have been overjoyed to see him. All the kids and stepkids were fully grown and had moved out. Even Melissa didn’t even bother to come see who was at the door and she had no excuse.

Drew could hear the television on in the living room from where he stood. Some woman was bitching about another woman, all undercut by overly dramatic music. Another one of Melissa’s dreadful Real Housewives shows.

He closed the door and dragged his suitcase down the hall. It opened up onto the living room, the stairs to his right. Melissa was sitting in the dark brown leather couch across from the television, her face in profile to him. Her thick red glasses were perched on her nose and she jabbed at her phone every now and then, chatting with some strangers online about something. It was exactly the same position she’d been in when he’d left. Maybe even down to the same plain tee shirt and jeans. Except for the fact that the house was neater and tidier than he left, it was entirely possible that she hadn’t moved the entire week. She certainly didn’t look up as he came in.

“Hey, honey,” Drew said, as he came up to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to face him so that his kiss landed awkwardly on her nose.

“Oh, Drew,” she said, bringing a hand to her chest. “You scared the heck out of me. I didn’t know you were coming home so soon. You should have texted me.”

“I did,” he said, trying to keep his tone level. It was depressing how little she noticed him these days. And when she did notice him, it was usually to nag.

She scrolled up through her phone. “Oh, yes, you did. Well, if I didn’t reply then you know I didn’t read it so you should have sent another one.”

Somehow it was his fault she hadn’t get the message. He knew that any retort would just escalate but he couldn’t help himself. He was jetlagged and exhausted and she didn’t even seem to care that he was back.

“You know,” Drew began, against his better judgement, “Maybe if you’d turn off this dumb show once in a while you might get your husband’s messages.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been back two minutes and already you’re going at my choices.”

How the hell did she turn it around on him? It was no wonder she couldn’t hold a job. She’d quit her last job out of ‘stress’ and refused to get another one, telling him how people in the office were so spiteful and out to stab each other in the back. Drew suspected it was her attitude, which had grown worse over the years. How had the lovely-but-strict woman he’d know over the years lost so much of the lovely but kept so much of the strict?

Nowadays her job was to stay home and look after the house and herself. She looked after the house well enough but herself only sporadically. Her weight tended to yo-yo depending on her mood, which dictated how often she went to the gym. She was in a slimmer phase now, having lost the few sizes she’d gained last year. At 46 years old she was a little soft around the middle and her butt had rounded out yet Drew still thought of it as totally grabbable. Though she never let him grab it these days. Her breasts hung down heavy and low on her chest, and they jiggled hypnotically when she rocked back and forth. At least, that’s what Drew assumed. He hadn’t seen them in a while.

She’d lost all interest in sex about six years ago, leaving Drew to have to take care of himself. She seemed completely uninterested in working on any issues she may have had. Completely uninterested in everything, in fact, except for that fucking show and her goddamn phone that was practically glued to her hand.

“There’s a package for you in the bedroom,” she said dismissively, turning back to her show.

Alex’s package! It was here! Drew stopped arguing and hurried upstairs, his heart suddenly thudding fast. It was a chance to change everything.

The one good thing that had come out of Melissa’s disappearing interest in sex was that Drew had become online friends with a guy named Alex. Drew didn’t remember how he found the online forum where he met Alex. He’d been following the rabbit hole of other blogs. Blogs about men becoming women. Captions. Body swap stories.

Somehow it led to the forum where he found Alex, who was looking for someone to roleplay with and they became regular partners. Usually it was Drew roleplaying becoming his wife because, despite everything, he was still attracted to her. He would give up his thinning hair and his craggy face and his long, lean body in a heartbeat to take over Melissa’s busty form, grab her bouncy butt and run his hands through her curly hair. Both the hair on her head and in between her legs. He roleplayed about being in Melissa’s body and going to visit Alex, giving Melissa to him and enjoying her pleasure as he made her body do the most degrading things. Things Melissa herself would never do. Things Drew would never dare ask for even if they were still having sex.

Drew and Alex got to know each other gradually through their shared body swapping kink. The roleplay eventually opened up to discussions on their real lives. Two weeks before Drew had left for his last work trip, Alex had dropped a bomb on him.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if there was some way to swap bodies in real life? Drew wrote to Alex one night as Melissa lay asleep in front of the TV.

Well… Alex replied. What would you do if there was?

I’d do what we just did. Become my wife and bring her to you.

There was a long pause and Drew thought Alex had gone to bed when his reply came.

What if I told you there was a way to do it in real life?

Read the rest in Returning the Favor.