Friday, 6 December 2013

Joy of Youth

And this is the last of the batch I'm uploading. Whew, I'm saving this post to apologise for my absence. As what many could attest, I've been busying myself in meatspace and sadly, this trend will worsen. So all I could do is to sporadically update with multiple content rather than updating every week or so.

That said, I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the caps I have created. Thank you.

Wealth is a double-bladed sword, especially so when it comes to love and friendship. My wealth has invited many shallow people into my circles, the gold diggers, male and female alike and I grow weary of second guessing their intention. And now, I am 69 years old and still single, as you can probably tell, I grow desperate to seek companion and perhaps, to feel youthful once again.

So I pick Kristie as my wife.

Kristie isn’t very different from all the gold diggers I knew but she is probably one of the most beautiful ones I’ve known. That was however, not the reason. I chose her because I had tasted the forbidden fruit. As you perhaps know, a man of my wealth have many hobbies and one of them being toys collection, specifically antique toys; toys of a forgotten era when children actually actively play with and run around the house with them. A few weeks ago, a toy ray-gun was delivered to me, its design was something out of a 60s science fiction, coils at the tip and colourful, something that reminds me of Flash Gordon. More interestingly, it came with a note and an instruction that stated that it could turn people into wearable skins. Naturally I laughed it off but I added it into my collection anyway.

My strange hobby was pretty much common knowledge to those who knew about me so guests naturally wanted to see them whenever I have a social function in my home. Kristie was one of them. She was alone when she wanted to see my collection and chanced upon the toy-gun. Amused, she took and triggered it while aiming herself and blacked out.

How did I know it? I wore her on that night. The instruction was right. Chancing upon it, I hid her skin until the crowd went home and inspected it. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to wear her out. The skin was smooth, delicate but firm, her insides were warm and slick, like wet lace. As I fit my 69 years old frame into her voluptuous 29 years old skin, my body squeezed and conformed, my hips flared, my chest expanded, my belly flattened and my gentials fused with the skin, aligning it with her nether region. When I pull her head over mine, I saw her life flashing in front of me. And it was then, I knew I had become Kristie Penner, 29 years old financial consultant. The vitality of youth flowed through me and I was addicted to it; her zeal for life, her boundless energy, her health and her sex. It was more than what I could ask for so I decided, I need her.

So I courted her and spoilt her with my wealth and power. I gave her everything she wanted and in return, she gave me her body, literally and figuratively. Initially, I wore her to feel young again in the hope of capturing my youthful days; I would run, go to the gym, swim and bask in the sun as her. Soon after, curiousity got the better of me and I began exploring my new found sex; fondling my ample bosom, fingering my moist snatch and caressing my creamy thigh. The masturbation sessions were intense and the ecstasy felt was beyond of what I am capable of in my old body.

Thereafter, my lifestyle change, I would jog and go to the gym in her tightest running short and tank tops, and swim in her sexiest bikini outfit, flaunting my erotic body to everyone I meet, the attention and envy I received was exhilarating. From there, it escalated; I begun to indulge in femininity, I learn about makeup and fashion and soon with my allure, attracted males and females partners alike. Sex was just the icing on the cake with my new found youth.

Alas, I know nothing lasts forever. Soon, I will die and Kristie will inherit all of my earthly possessions and life goes on. At least that’s what I would like people to believe, but I, Delroy Dirkson, will live on forever as Kristie Dirkson, widow of a once lonely, desperate billionaire.

The Masterplan

Originally, this was supposed to be a saga or sort but writer's block was a massive pain so I stopped. Interestingly, the first part was good enough to stand on its own.

I’ve been watching her ever since she’s here, the new maid. She has been here for only a few weeks and yet, she has mesmerized me; the way she walks, sashaying down the corridor in her 3-inch black pump, the way she talks in her honeyed voice, smiling at me whenever we have a chat, the way she gestures; timid yet flirtatious, always playing with me and at the same time implying we could be more than master and servants and the way she looks, her face so innocent, yet mischievous and playful.

Today, she came into my room to “clean”. In her usual 3-inch black pump, flesh-toned stockings, and her shortened skirt, she has come to tease again. I know, because she only reserves this sight for me. The way she cleaned, putting herself in positions where she almost exposes her panties for me while showing off those fairly plump thighs of hers. Hopefully, she doesn-Oh shit, she’s looking this way!

The Chameleon smiled slightly. Sir Landebert’s youngest son bashfulness can be endearing at times but this is not the time for pleasure. It has taken him quite a while craft Eliza, his current disguise, and much to his luck, young master is surprisingly into homely girls like Eliza. But he has bigger agenda to take care of - The Heart of Claudia; it is one of the most prized jewelry on this planet; its net worth is in tens of millions and it is the family heirloom of the Landebert family.

At least for now.

The problem however, is that nobody knows where it is except the family itself and this is where Eliza comes in. Purposely bending over to reach for the basket, the Chameleon exposes what the voyeur is yearning for and smiled. Hopefully, the Chameleon thought, Eliza would be able to get it through the heart of the man in front of her.

Thursday, 5 December 2013

Honey Pot

The Chameleon checked to see whether his target was sound asleep. The job this time round is not particularly difficult, get some information from some of the top executives and relayed it back to his client. The jucier the information, the more money it entailed.

The Chameleon then tied and gagged his target. The difficult part of the operation was the company that he was to spy against. A Chinese company of which their top executives were Chinese males. Using the classic honey pot trap would work but they wouldn’t be keen on divulging secrets to local prostitutes, much less a foreign one. However, the Chameleon knew people of such power would have a secret affair with a mistress or some kind, thus the investigation led him to one “Xue Zhen Lin” and thus, the stakeout began. Three months of intense stakeout and exercise later, it was time to carry out the ‘heist’.

The Chameleon started his transformation. The corset was tightened more than usual to fit the Asian frame and the bodysuit was specially made to duplicate Miss Xue’s fair skin tones. With the bodysuit adjusted, the Chameleon could feel himself regressing and Miss Xue’s personality surfacing. But not yet, he mused. One more thing. Taking the mask out, the Chameleon proceeded to wear it over his head, feeling the material concealing and encasing him, effectively masking his psyche.

“Oh dear, look at me,” Zhen Lin said, her heavy accented English that the Chameleon had perfected, as she frowned at her bald reflection. Her long luxurious raven hair was put up and tied and the transformation was complete. Looking into the mirror, she saw exactly as how the world remembered her, fair skin, pert nose, modest bosom, with killer legs; all her perfection and imperfection, duplicated down to the smallest blemish.

“Not yet,” she giggled exactly as how the Chameleon remembered. A white Cheongsam, black silk pantyhose and some daring undergarments underneath later, she looked into the reflection and saw exactly how Zhen Lin would go on a date with his ‘boyfriend’.

“Later, dear. Don’t wait up, I’ll be late,” she blew a kiss to her sleeping twin.

First Date Jitters

Channing was getting the first-date jitters. Sure, this was his first time going out on a date but he was having butterflies in the stomach for a whole different reason.

“Calm yourself, it’s going to be alright. You train yourself for this,” Channing muttered under his breath as he took the corset and put it on. “Remember. Sway your hips when you walk, don’t exaggerate!” Feeling the tightness around his abdomen, he went on to put on his padded girdle, his “girl shorts”. The girdle with the corset created an illusion of feminine curves and hiding his erected member under the flesh-coloured garment.

“This costs me a lot but it’s worth it,” Channing picked up his breast form as he carefully apply the adhesive. Glueing it to his chest, he looked into a full-body mirror and adjusted it. Channing hated mirrors like that, it reminded him of his body and his gender; what he could not be when he was born but things were different now. His mirror was set up to only show the body of the user minus the face and now it reflected an image of a female body; its legs were rather thick but toned, shaved and moisturized, the body had a feminine curve with lacy corset and a girdle however, what stood out was the lack of female genitalia and outlining of the breast form. Channing smiled to himself, it was alright. A good dress would be able conceal the lower half and a good bout of makeup would make the breast form natural as if he was born with it.

Next was the clothing. Black stockings, white brassiere and thongs, lace dresses embroidered with floral patterns and matching open-toed heels. He loved the feel of lace and silk against his skin as he put them on. With each garment, he felt a step closer to who he was. “There,” Channing spoke but the words that came out was modulated and higher in pitch. Finally, Channing sauntered to his dressing table, his hips swaying while the heels clicking hard with every step against the wooden floor. On it was a female head with long blond hair stared emptily at him, he carefully peeled the skin off and wore it over his head, feeling his alter ego, no, his true self surfacing.

Bending over and looking into the full length mirror again, Charlie saw her reflection. She gave a demure smile and the reflection did the same. The first date jitter was gone and in place was confidence of a woman that knows her sexuality. Looking at the clock, she knew she would be late for her date, a man that goes by the name Johnny. Charlie looked at the reflection again; going by her looks, she was sure Johnny would forgive, it’s after all, their first date and the female always came late, right?

A Series of Transformation

Another series of short caps. I'm too wordy sometimes. Hopefully you enjoy this as well.

Sex Appeal

Alex needed not opened his eyes to know the transformation was complete. He could feel the shoulder-length blonde hair, his modest-sized breast and his flat nether region; he had become Mrs Winslow, the mother of his best friend, Pearce. If he had a choice, he would have preferred a younger form, like Mrs Winslow’s daughter, but current situation demands him to be her. Quickly, ramaging through her closet, he donned a yellow camisole, white silky stockings and a pair of matching white heels just in time to hear the living room door open. Taking a deep breath, Alex checked his bearing and put on his most seductive smile.

Mr Winslow had recently grounded him on violating curfew. Try as he had, Pearce had tried to convince his father to do otherwise but he refused to budge. Alex thought, if his son couldn’t persuade him to lessen the punishment, then perhaps, his wife would.


“Oh yes, fuck me harder!”

A grunt was all she need as her partner started to pump faster, causing her to moan deeper and sluttier. Brent couldn’t believe that his best friend’s younger sister, Joane could be this slutty. Usually when he saw her around, she looked gentle and demure but right in front of her was a slut begging him to “ram his big fat cock deeper into her pussy”. Without hesitation, Brent proceeded to fulfil her request.

Joane was silently giggling to herself as she felt the throbbing dick going in deep with every thrust Brent gave. All thanks to the Medallion of Zulo, Brent thought that he was fucking the usually demure Joane whereas in fact, was fucking her little brother, Francis. All Francis need was Joane’s worn garment, her purple woolen leggings in this case, and the medallion will transform its wearer to the owner of said garment.

“Ah, more! Give it to me more, Brent. Fuck my brains out!”

However, it wasn’t the sex that Francis got off to. Sure the sex was great but what really turned Francis on was the deception of it. Everyone thought they were fucking someone they knew but in actual fact, they don’t. This coupled with the fact that Francis was always playing the seductress, hence, having control over the sex, gave him a power trip that he never had.

“Oh, you’re cumming? Me too honey. Give it to me, baby. Cum in my pussy!”

Peace & Quiet

“Something is wrong with me,” Stanford thought as he looked into his cup of coffee. Day-offs is a rare commodity in Stanford’s chaotic and noisy line of work and now that he has it, he decided to piss it off on drinking coffee in an empty cafe, wearing women’s clothes. Not that he looked bad at it, in fact, Stanford looks extremely feminine in it due to his ability to shapeshift into any person he wants.

Sure, he could morph himself to a male supermodel but he preferred the female form. Maybe, it’s the petite frame or perhaps the diversity in women’s fashion but he just felt ‘snugly’ whenever he’s a women.

Initially, all he could was to morph to people he knew or seen and before he knew it, his ability had matured to the point he could simply craft a new identity. This had an ironical effect; nobody knew Stanford Gallagher but everybody knew Jamie, Britney, Amanda, etc, all of them being his alter ego. This caused him much social isolation so being alone was pretty much the norm for him.

Stanford rubbed his nylon clad thigh together and crossed his legs. “Man, what am I doing? It’s my day off,” he grumbled as he sipped the coffee. “Then again, I don’t mind this peace and quiet once in a while.”

Bodyhoppers Strike Redux

Some bodyhopping shorts. I hope you enjoy.



“Alright Fergusson, get out of her,” Tucker grumbled.

“Pardon?” the lady in question was bemused.

Sighing, Tucker took out a camera and proceeded to snap a photo of her. The lady simply pouted in response as Tucker showed the photo of the lady, except her face had been replaced with a rather young teenager.

“Aw, can’t you play along for once,” the women complained, her voice suddenly deepened to that of a male.

“I will but Alicia’s my girlfriend. That’s a line we shouldn’t have crossed,”

“Despite the fact that you have committed adultery when I hopped your neighbour’s wife and let you fuck her six way to Sunday?” Alicia grinned, “Besides, I would let you do things Alicia wouldn’t want you to do to her,” she continues, her voice turning back into that of a young women’s while looking at her boyfriend seductively.

Tucker shifted his pants slightly to adjust the erection he had, this is partly due to the recent memories of his sexual encounter with his neighbour’s wife and also “Alicia” promising the same wild experience; something the normal “Alicia” would never give at all.

“Besides, how do you know I mounted your girlfriend? I must admit though, her body feels great and fits me in all the right places, if ya’ get what I mean,” she winked, feeling herself up and enjoying the sensual nature of it.

“Well, you know. You always overdress your mount,”

“Can’t be helped. There’s so much I want to wear! So how about the sex I promise you?”


65 Days Since I'm a Bodyhopper

It’s been 65 days since I become a bodyhopper and recently, I met Todd, another bodyhopper. When you met another bodyhopper like yourself, what do you do? I don’t know about you but Todd loves roleplay and his idea of fun was to set up scenario that you would only see in porn.

“Alright, so like, we got this mother and daughter, right?”


“And we fuck the boyfriend or something. The mother will like, I don’t know, teach the daughter how to have sex, ya’?”

Weird. Then again, who was I to judge? So I followed his plan and we sneaked into this house whose occupants had been staked out by Todd for quite some time already. By coin toss, Todd got to be the daughter (He was like a kid on Christmas when he won that) and me, I got to be the lovely mother. Great. Fortunately, the daughter already had a boyfriend, all we need was to call him up and the gig was set.

“Stephie, try not to bite,” I instructed as I tried looking lovingly (I think all I got out was envy) at my ‘daughter’. My ‘daughter’ nodded, delicately but clumsily (Man, he was really into it) moving the meat shaft up and down her mouth. Seeing this sight and really getting into the spirit of it, I thought it was time to up the ante.

“Alright, Stephie. You can practice oral sex anytime you could but now, this old hag really needs some dicking. So what say you, young man? Do you think you can handle the both of us?” I asked as  licked my lips.

Now You See Him, Now You Don't

China’s a huge place.

Ask Huang, he knew it best. Owner of an amatuer model website, he knew the number of unique hits on his website could go up to millions. But Huang realised that the sheer scale of population in China meant if people go missing, no one would miss them. Likewise, if new people came in, it wouldn’t make much of a difference and no one would notice them.

Today’s photoshoot would be for Ai Xue.  The theme, due to popular demand, would be maids. Huang shook his head as he began applying foundation make-up to his face, they really loved it after all. Being short and stuck with a body that could be described as male adolescent, Huang was never manly but rather boyish-looking. Because of that, people never treated him seriously until he found a knack in doing makeup and using photoshops.

After he finished his makeup, Huang proceeded to wear his wig and combed his hair; a girl in the reflection mimicked his action. Satisfied, Huang proceeded to dress up; the silky touch of the maid costume, arm-length gloves and black stockings with lace tops, pleased Huang tremendously. Setting the self-timer of his camera, Huang had disappeared and Ai Xue had come. “A beautiful illusion”, Ai Xue mused as she heard the camera clicked and flashed, “too bad, they are too fragile,” she sighed as she thought about the heavy amount of photoshop filters to maintain illusion.

Sunday, 28 July 2013

Trouper: The Work Continues

This one took quite some time; it's something I've always wanted to try. The attempt to feel what it feels like, undergoing the transformation. I must apologise if it's too boring.


Today’s a sunday but my work never ends.

I put on my padded girdle, carefully sliding it up my freshly shaved legs, stretching it and squirming my body to get the tight garment up to its position. Next, the flesh-toned training corset. Putting it over me and adjusting it to my abdomen, I took a deep breath and laced it, pulling and tightening its string; constricting my figure that is every bit like a woman. Next, I try on the C-cup breast form. Using a silicone adhesive, I carefully applied it to the fake assets and slowly attach it to my chest, making sure that they are at the correct position.

Now, comes the bodysuit I crafted specially for this; picking up a garment that looks like a deflated headless body, I bunch it up and fold it like hosiery and slip into it, legs first from the top and proceed to wear it. Tight but elastic, I carefully fold and stretch it from my legs and over my newly attached breast forms while, fitting them into the breast pouch that I have created. Fitting them in, the arms are next, turning them into lithe feminine arms. In the mirror I see, stands a freak of nature with a head of a bald man and the supple body of a women; her skin fair, her nails manicured, her breast ample and her crotch flat, leaving no trace of masculinity that was before.

But soon this freak of nature will soon disappear as I approach the make-up table. On it are the tools of a magician, a wig stand, make-up kits, contacts and most importantly, the human mask worn over a head cast. Next, I open one of the many contact boxes on the table, take out a pair of olive green contacts and wear, one more aspect of me gone. I pick up the mask and wear it, covering what the bodysuit couldn’t cover, the neck and the collar area. Smoothing it and aligning the mask to my face, the man disappears and a bald woman stands in his place; her face brimming with the youth of a young adult, her eyes sharp and her lips full. I smile, being glad that the fourteen hours of effort had not been wasted, and in return, the woman smiles as well.

Lastly, comes the blonde wig. Wearing it over my head, I press the scalp line against my forehead and pull it down, fastening the wig. There, the transformation is complete. The Trouper is no more and in his place, Lyla White, age 22, graduate of an art college and amatuer actor,  is born.

Now, a lady isn’t expected to prance in her home naked so I walk over to my wardrobe, taking care to put into practice the walk I have developed for my character; a slight sway of the hip and a certain ‘bounce’ and haste in her gait; characteristic of a cheerful and spirited girl who just graduated into working society. Wearing a blue sweater dress, a pink thong (she’s a kinky one, after all) and matching socks, I started the video camera and prepared myself in front of it.

“Hi, I’m Lyla White, an amatuer actor and I hope...”

And another successful character created for the sake of theatrics and drama. The work never ends and most importantly, it never gets stale.

A Friend in Need, is a Friend in Deed.

And another one. I really like the sentiments behind this. I think the idea behind this comes from a masking fiction I've read, Weaver's Tales, I think.


Oh crap, what I have gotten myself into?

I pace around the living room frantically. It’s taking too long already, why hasn’t he come out? It’s like I’m waiting for a women to powder her nose.

Women? Wait, wait, wait, he’s not a women. He’s a he! Not a women. Don’t think too much about it, Jason. Cool down. All you need to do, is to help him come in terms with himself, like a good friend. Yeah, that’s it.

“Jason?” Comes a breathy feminine voice, “I-I’m ready.”

I gulp,  turn, look and instantly regret my decision to turn for standing in front of me is not my good friend, Lucian but a woman who call herself Catherine. “So, how do I look?”

Black,shimmering dresses, paired with black sheer hosiery and black pumps, my friend flashes a smile as if she- he’s posing. Blonde hair, and blue eyed contacts, very different from the first time I saw him in drags. His figure, damn, how did he mask it? Was it the black? Or did he wear something to give him those breasts and hip?

Fuck. It’s happening again. When Lucian showed me his alter ego, I was blown away at how convincing he looked; the make-up, those kissable lips and the cute nose. I’ve always known Lucien is small and boyish looking but this, this is too much. And now, just like before, I couldn’t take my eyes of her, I mean, him. God damn it.

“Jason, hello?” the breathy voice again. How the hell did he do it? The voice? He must have been training for hours. Probably days. Maybe even months? Years? Fuck, I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even want to know.

“Jason, are you alright?” She, he took a step closer. I can even smell the perfume, very feminine, very nice. My goodness, it’s getting harder to think of her as a him. Wild thoughts came into my mind, what is she like under that dress? Is he wearing tights, stockings with garter belts, what about lingerie? Is he wearing that too under it? How sexy is it?
“I’m alright, Lucien. God help me, you never fail to freak me out,”

Lucien took a step back, head sunken and shoulders withdrawn. Ah, shit. “I mean, you never fail to amaze me, Lucien,”

“Catherine. Please call me Catherine.”

Oh, I give up. Just go with the flow, Jason. 10 years of friendship is not worth breaking over something like this.

“Fine then, Catherine. Or should I say, Cathy?”

Upon hearing this, Catherine lightens up and flashes an innocent smile (Even the dentures are different), she looks like a normal girl who’s dressed up for a date. Now that I’ve seen her like this, there’s no way I could refuse her request her first time night’s out, right?

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Putting my hands over her shoulder, I sighed mentally. Whatever it is, Catherine is Lucien, Lucien’s a good friend, therefore, Catherine is a good friend and I can’t ignore a good friend’s bidding.

Medallion of Zulo: Two Stories

Despite being a fan of transformation, I never really tried the Medallion of Zulo setting until I read Loki's Captions. So I figure I will give it a test and it's surprisingly fun.

Wilder Antics

First Time

Transcript for Wilder Antics:
“Come on, suck it already,”

“Oh jeez, aren’t you impatient?” Norene frowned as she cupped her hands around the stranger’s balls, teasing it.

“Sorry, I’m afraid the housekeepers will come in anytime soon,”

“Don’t worry, I’m Mrs Britton now, remember? This is my house. Besides, the housekeeper today is a male, I’m sure he would want to have a cut of action, hmm?”

“Shit, we’re really perverts aren’t we? ”

James smiled internally; ever since he stumbled upon the Medallion of Zulu and discovered its ability, James is having so much transforming himself into other people, especially members of the opposite sex. When he got bored of masturbating in his new found women body, he decided to confide his secrets to his best friend, Taylor, and made him into a regular sex partner; with each passing day, their antics grew bolder and their sex, wilder.

Today, they decided to break into the house of Mr and Mrs Britton, the couple of whom Taylor had taken interest into, especially, Mrs Norene Britton. Raiding her wardrobe, James took out a pair of silky black stockings and heels and rub the Medallion with it. Within moments of wearing the set, James felt the transformation; his body grew smaller, his hair grew longer and blonde, he felt his hip buckling and developing, his rump becoming fuller and rounder, his breasts forming from his chest eventually settling into humble cup size of C, his penis shrinking and settling into his body, leaving a moist slit in its absence and he felt his face growing softer and changing that of Norene Britton.

“James, quit teasing me already!”

James snapped out of his flashback. What an impatient man, he thought.

“That is Mrs Britton, young man,” James retorted as he starts to give his heads.

Transcript for First Time:
When I stumbled upon a charity shop yesterday, I found a medallion or sorts on its shelves. Feeling a bit curious, I went on and purchase it.

Investigating and reading the inscription, I realise that it is the Medallion of Zulo and it actually changes your appearance to that of people you wish to be by wearing their clothes.

Being a closet crossdresser, I have always wanted to try to look passable as a women but because of my natural size, I couldn’t but with this, perhaps, I could realise my dream.

Sneaking into my sister’s room, I donned on the pink chiffon dress and felt a shock through my body. I felt my hair growing, golden curls resting on my shrinking shoulder, breasts developing, pushing the elastic garment and creating a deep and pleasing cleavage. My skin grew soft and and tanned, matching the complexion of my sister’s. Once, I felt the transformation completing, I looked into the mirror and to my due surpise, standing there looking equally shocked is my sister!

“Oh shit, it works!” I laughed and immediately covered my mouth for the words coming out was coated in my sister’s honeyed voice.

But what do I do now?

“No worries there,” I thought as I sat on the sofa, admiring my toned legs and cleavage. “I have plenty of time after all.” 

Costume Gun: A Close Shave

You know the period when you start a few caps in the evening and couldn't stop writing until your clock tells that normal human beings are soundly asleep and had probably started their REM sleep?

It's one of those lucky days. I must apologise about the lack of updates; despite being summer, creative drought is an all-time season in my mindscape. But nevertheless, here are some captions.

 “Where’s mommy and what have you done to her?”

“What do you mean, Jimmy?”

“Shut up! You’re not mommy, I saw it. I saw you putting her skin on!”

Jim’s mother stood there, dressed in corsets and stockings, her head cocking onto one side and frowning as if in confusion. Her face, however, cleared into a relief as she bent down and hugged Jimmy as he struggled in her hold.

“Oh Jimmy, were you dreaming again?” She cooed as she stroke his head resisting his struggle to break her hold.

“W-wha?” Jimmy stopped.

“Remember those scary nightmares you thought it was real?”

Jimmy slowly nodded.

“Oh you, do you remember the previous time it happen? You thought there was a monster clawing out of your bed and it took me a long time to calm you down?”

Jimmy sheepishly nodded.

“Now, if I were some stranger wearing mommy’s skin, do you think he would ever know that you wet your bed 2 weeks ago after another bad dream?”

Jimmy’s eyes widened as he blushed; he nodded furiously now.

“There, there, it’s okay. Mommy is here and there’s no bad people wearing your mommy, okay?” Jim’s mother whispered tenderly as she cooed her son to sleep.

After putting her son to bed, Jim’s mother, Diane heaved a sigh of relief, “What a troublesome brat,” Diane growled as she starts to feel up her own body. “I should be careful next time but whatever,” As Diane starts to fondle her own breast, she tried to trace where her original self had done wrong. It was a routine, picked the lock of the door silently, zapped the women with the costume gun, wore her, lived her life, ditched the skin, repeat. “Must have made a noise that the boy had heard; thank goodness for the costume gun, else I would have not remembered that Jimmy boy has night terro-,” Diane moaned, interrupting the stranger’s thought as Diane’s hands pinched her clit.

“Now Diane, until your husband gets home, I should start familiarising with your, I mean, my body,” the stranger grinned as he started to massaged his stolen snatch.