Looks good on you

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Feel what she feels

I'm standing in the dining room, heart pounding like a drum, staring at this nightmare version of myself. My lover, Carla, the hot little apprentice witch I’ve been banging behind my wife’s back for months, is pacing in her baby blue blouse that’s unbuttoned way too low, tits almost spilling out. She looks pissed and scared at the same time.

And then there’s me. My own head, short spiked hair, neat beard, the one my wife kisses every morning, stuck on top of Carla’s exact fucking body. Same curvy hips, same heavy double-D tits straining against this skimpy black lace bra and thong set she loves wearing for me. My new tits rise and fall with every panicked breath, nipples already hard and poking through the sheer fabric because this body is so damn sensitive. Every shift of the lace sends little sparks straight to my new pussy, which is already getting slick.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Rick!” Carla hisses, waving her hands like she’s trying to swat the magic away. “I just wanted you to feel what I feel when you touch me, to know every spot that makes me wet. Not… not this!”

I look down at myself, at these smooth tanned legs, the curve of this fat ass in the mirror on the wall. I shift my weight and feel the thong ride up between my new cheeks, the string rubbing right against my asshole. My tits jiggle with the movement, heavy and full, and fuck, it feels good in the worst way. I grab them without thinking, just to steady them, and a moan slips out of my throat before I can stop it. The nipples are so hard they ache, and squeezing sends a hot pulse straight down to my clit.

“Stop groping yourself and help me fix this!” Carla snaps, but her eyes are glued to my chest, watching her own body react to my touch.

“I’m not groping, I’m… fuck, they’re sensitive!” I growl. I pinch one nipple through the lace and my knees almost buckle. My pussy clenches hard, a fresh gush of wetness soaking the thong. “How the hell do you walk around with these things?!”

Carla grabs her spellbook off the table, flipping pages frantically. “The reversal incantation should work. Stand still.”

She starts chanting, hands glowing faint purple, waving them over me. Nothing happens. The glow fizzles out like a dud firework. She tries again, voice rising, sweat beading between her tits. Still nothing.

“Shit. Shit!” She slams the book shut. “I must’ve bound it too deep. It’s stuck until the moon cycle resets or something. I don’t know!”

I glance at the clock. My wife’s due home any minute. She thinks I’m at a work dinner. If she walks in and sees me like this, head on Carla’s identical slutty body, both of us half-dressed and reeking of sex and panic…

“Change me back before my wife comes back home!” I yell, voice cracking. I grab Carla’s shoulders, my manicured nails digging in. My tits press against her blouse, nipple to nipple through thin fabric, and we both gasp at the contact. Electricity shoots through me, my pussy throbbing so hard I have to clench my thighs together.

I look down and see the dark wet spot spreading on the black thong. My clit is swollen, poking against the lace, begging for friction. I can’t help it. I slide one hand down, cupping my new mound, and the second my fingers brush the clit I whimper. It’s like a direct line to every nerve in this body.

“We don’t have time,” I groan, but I’m already rubbing slow circles, hips rocking forward.

Carla bites her lip, watching me finger her own pussy on my body. “Just… quick. Maybe if you come it’ll loosen the binding.”

I hear the front door lock click.

Too late.

Skewed

The city hummed around me, a dull thrum against my frustrated thoughts. It was 11:30 PM, past Patty’s curfew, and I was walking from the car park to my apartment, a familiar ache settling in my gut. Patty was amazing; hot as hell, beautiful face, killer body. She was a real catch. But her parents? Strict as hell. Curfew at 10:30 PM, no spending the night, no going anywhere after. It was a constant source of tension, especially for a guy like me who just wanted to wake up next to his girlfriend. I wished we could rent our own place, just be together.

Lost in that familiar frustration, I bumped shoulders with an old woman just outside my building. She stumbled, clutching a worn bag. My first instinct was to help, but my annoyance won out. I just kept walking, muttering a quick, half-hearted apology over my shoulder.

"I understand your frustrations, young man," her voice rasped, surprisingly clear, "but you should be more helpful. Even so, I'll grant you one thing you are after: your desires, all in one, will be a reality. Albeit a little skewed because of your behavior." Then, she hobbled off, melting into the shadows of the night.

"What the hell was that?" I thought, shaking my head. Just some crazy old lady, probably.

My phone buzzed. I hoped it was Patty, maybe she’d snuck away from her parents, but it was Dale. My roommate. Dale, the douchebag. Good with ladies, somehow, despite being a total sleaze. He'd bring girls home, bang 'em all night, and then brag about it over coffee the next morning. It was hell.

Dale never messages me, I thought, confused. His text just said, "You home yet?" I typed back, "Just heading in now."

I pushed open the apartment door, and immediately noticed my bedroom door was ajar, lights on inside. "Goddamn it," I muttered, a fresh wave of annoyance washing over me. "Dale, if you're in my room touching my shit again, I swear to god...."

My voice died in my throat. I stared, mouth agape, frozen in the doorway.

Dale. He was on my bed. Naked. Lying on his stomach, facing me, a wide, inviting smile on his face. But it wasn't just Dale. His head, yeah, that was definitely Dale’s - his scruffy beard, his arrogant smirk. But below it? A woman's body. A gorgeous, voluptuous, undeniably naked woman's body. Her back was arched, showing off a perfectly rounded ass, and the smooth curve of her lower back led to a tantalizing glimpse of her pussy, tucked between perfectly toned thighs.

My eyes darted to her feet. The toes were painted with baby blue nail polish. The exact same shade Patty had put on her nails this morning.

"Petey," Dale purred, his voice still Dale’s gruff baritone, but impossibly sensual coming from that body. "You're home. Oh my god, I've missed you, baby!"

My mind reeled. "Dale," I stammered, my voice trembling, "did you just call me Petey?" That was Patty's nickname for me. Only Patty.

"Of course, babe, what else would I call you?" Dale responded, still looking back at me, his smile widening. He arched his new, incredible back even further, stretching out, displaying more of his perfect ass and pussy. His breasts, full and heavy, swayed slightly with the movement. "Petey, I want you so bad! I'm so glad we live together now, you can fuck me whenever you want!" he said, and started to gyrate slowly on the bed, his new hips swaying in a way that was undeniably feminine, undeniably horny.

I was in total shock, completely frozen. My brain was screaming, trying to decode what the hell was happening, trying to reconcile the familiar douchebag with the unbelievable sight before me. And my dick? My dick, traitorous bastard that it was, was already in full, unyielding attention. It ached, hot and hard, a stark contrast to the cold confusion gripping my mind. My desires, all in one, had become a reality. But skewed. So, so skewed.

All rolled into one

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