Part 2
Brian was back to being himself the next day. Same loud voice, same inappropriate jokes, same 350-pound frame waddling into the office like he owned the place. The Mirabella thing had happened, and somehow my brain had accepted it. I'd spent the whole night replaying every detail: his grinning face in her body, the way he'd rubbed her abs, the filthy things he'd whispered about doing to himself.
It was so fucking wrong. And yet, when I closed my eyes, I could still see her. I could still feel... well, I couldn't feel it, not really. But the idea of it, the knowledge that the alien gun worked, that I could be anyone I wanted, it was an intoxicating thought I couldn't shake.
Then, during our usual lunch break in the parking lot, Brian pulled me aside.
"Hey, I need to talk to you. In private."
He lowered his voice, looking around like someone might overhear. "So. The gun. You used it. You were in Mirabella's body for like, twelve hours?"
"I told you. We said tomorrow, remember?"
"I know, I know. But listen. I want to make you a deal."
"A deal?"
"Yeah. I let you have your way with Mirabella tonight. Full access. However you want. Whatever you want. Hours. Whatever."
My mouth went dry. "And in exchange, what?"
"You possess a girl I find hot. And you let me have my way with her."
"That's... that's the deal? You get Mirabella, I get some random girl?"
"Not random. I'll pick who. But I won't say who until we're at the office tomorrow. You meet me in the conference room at 9 AM."
"Brian, I don't know. this feels really messed up. Possessing someone and then..."
"Oh come on. You liked it, didn't you? Being a girl? I can see it in your eyes."
He had me there. I had liked it. The smooth skin, the curves, the way Mirabella's body had felt under my own hands, it was a thrill I hadn't expected. And the thought of being in her body again, this time with the freedom to do whatever I wanted...
"Fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "9 AM tomorrow."
"You won't regret this, bro."
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The next morning, I showed up to the office ten minutes early. I could feel my heart racing. This was insane. What was I doing?
Brian was already there, pacing in the hallway outside the conference room. He looked nervous... or excited. I couldn't tell with Brian.
"You came."
"I said I would."
He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then jerked his head toward the window overlooking the main floor. "Look down there. By the reception desk."
I squinted. A woman was sitting at the front desk, sorting through mail.
"That's Brenda. Mrs. Vance's secretary."
I looked closer. Brenda was Black, petite, maybe 5'0, with a face I'd describe as... not pretty. Eyes spaced a little too wide, tiny features, a vacant stare. She had a horrible face, objectively. But then my eyes dropped lower.
Christ.
Her tits were enormous. Like, comically huge. They sat on her small frame like two watermelons balanced on a child's chest, straining against the buttons of her blouse. Every time she shifted in her chair, they jiggled - heavy, soft, and far too large for her body.
Brian was staring at them like they were the last food on earth. I could see his pupils blown wide, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"Those things... I've wanted to grab those for years," he whispered.
"You want me to possess her?"
"Just for a couple hours. You take her body, you bring her to the empty office upstairs - the one near the roof, nobody goes there - and you let me touch those. Maybe more. Whatever I want. And in return, tonight you take Mirabella's body and you do whatever the fuck you want."
It was a terrible deal. Morally, ethically, legally, it was a catastrophe. Plus, she looked disgusting. But Mirabella. The thought of having my way with my boss's fit daughter, having my way with her, possibly passing the torch and possessing her myself... it was everything I'd craved last time.
"Fine," I said again.
Brian's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Fuck yes! Let's go. She clocks out in five minutes. She'll walk through the service hallway, nobody watches that camera. We'll shoot her right as she turns the corner."
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It went exactly as planned.
Brenda took the service hallway at 5:03 PM, her enormous breasts bouncing slightly with each step. I raised the gun which I'd kept in my bag all day, switched the dial to POSSESS, and fired.
A blue beam hit her square in the chest. She dropped her keys and folded to the ground like a marionette with cut strings. And then...
The world exploded.
This was different. This was so different. Mirabella had been tiny, lean, athletic. A gymnast's body in every way. Brenda was... overwhelming.
The first thing I noticed was the weight. My - her - chest was heavy, impossibly heavy, pulling me forward with every breath. I staggered, my center of gravity completely off. These weren't Mirabella's perky little breasts that Brian had worn. These were massive, dense, and they hung low on her frame, swinging slightly as I tried to steady myself.
Then there was the sensitivity. As a guy, my nipples were like touching my elbow. Nothing. These things were already vibrating with electricity. The fabric of her blouse brushed against her nipples and I felt it like a shock, a jolt that ran straight down my spine. I gasped, clutching my chest.
"Holy shit," I whispered, but the voice that came out was deeper, huskier, with a thick accent I didn't recognize.
My skin felt different too. Darker, softer, and somehow more alive. Every nerve ending seemed amplified. And my body. It was small, tiny even, but that chest... it dominated everything. I could feel it with every step, every breath, every heartbeat.
Brian stood there, staring at me, at her, with an expression that was pure hunger.
"Fuck," he breathed. "They're even bigger up close."
"Get up, Brenda. I mean, get up. We need to move."
"Right. Upstairs. Now."
I stumbled up the stairs, my enormous tits swaying with every step. I could feel Brian's eyes on them, on me, and it was humiliating and electric all at once.
The empty office near the roof was dark and dusty, barely used. Brian locked the door behind us and leaned against it, breathing hard.
"So. You're in her."
"Obviously."
"Can I..."
He didn't even finish the sentence. He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed both my breasts.
Yes.
His large, calloused hands closed around them like he was born to hold that much flesh. They were soft, impossibly soft, heavy and warm, and when he squeezed, I felt the pressure all the way to my chest bone. My nipples hardened instantly, poking through the thin fabric of her bra, and a moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
"Fuck, they're perfect," Brian groaned, his thumbs circling my nipples.
"Brian, we have a deal. Remember the deal?"
"Right, right. But come on, bro. Let me play with them a minute. They're insane."
He wasn't letting go. His hands kneaded my breasts like dough, squeezing and rolling them, and I could feel every touch like it was being traced directly onto my soul. My body was responding in ways I didn't understand, heat pooling in my gut, a wetness between my legs that I could feel even through her clothes.
"This feels incredible," I admitted, my voice trembling.
"You're turned on, aren't you?" Brian laughed. "Dude, you're turned on and it's your friend grabbing your tits."
"Stop talking like that."
"Right. Sorry, ma'am."
He pulled me closer, his hands sliding up to cup the full weight of my breasts, lifting them so they rested against his chest. I was so small compared to him, 5 feet to his 6, and his hands engulfed me. I could feel his heartbeat through my nipples.
"Look, I'll be fair," Brian said, his voice dropping lower, more serious. "I won't go further with you in this body than you're going to go with me in Mirabella's later. You set the boundary. Whatever you're comfortable with, that's where we stop. Deal?"
I thought about it. About Mirabella. About tonight. The truth was... I wanted to go far with Mirabella. I wanted to explore everything that body had to offer. And if I was being honest with myself... a part of me wanted to explore this body too.
"Okay," I said. "But not on the floor. On the desk. And you stop when I say stop."
"Deal."
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He pushed me back onto the desk and I fell against the cool wood, my breasts spilling over my sides like overflowing cream. Brian dropped to his knees between my legs and began unbuttoning her blouse.
When the buttons gave way, my breasts burst free. Massive, dark areolas, peaked nipples, and curves that seemed to defy physics. Brian's eyes widened.
"Oh my god," he breathed, reaching up to touch them.
His mouth was on my breast a second later. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and the sensation was blinding. White-hot pleasure shot up from my chest straight to my brain, and I threw my head back with a scream that was half moan, half something else entirely.
He worked one breast with his mouth while his hand kneaded the other, squeezing and rolling it, pinching the nipple and watching it harden further. I was trembling, my body arching up off the desk, my hips rocking involuntarily.
"Yes," I gasped. "Yes, right there."
"You're so responsive in this body," Brian murmured against my skin. "It's like every touch is amplified tenfold."
He slid his hands under my breasts, lifting them, and then his fingers found her bra clasp. He popped it open and pushed the straps down, freeing both breasts completely. They were magnificent — heavy, full, and swaying slightly with every breath I took.
He took both nipples into his mouth at once and something broke inside me. A wave of pleasure so intense it brought tears to my eyes, and I was crying out now, my hands gripping the edge of the desk, my nails digging into the wood.
He climbed up onto the desk and straddled my hips, his weight pressing me into the wood. His hands were everywhere, on my breasts, my hips, sliding down between my legs. He pushed her panties aside and his fingers found me. Wet, swollen, and throbbing.
He curled two fingers inside me and the sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt. My - her - walls clamped around his fingers, pulsing and squeezing, and I screamed. My back arched off the desk, my breasts jiggling wildly, and I could feel the orgasm building like a tidal wave.
"Brian, I'm... I'm going to..."
And I did. I came hard, my body convulsing, my walls milking his fingers, my breasts heaving with each spasm of pleasure. It was the most intense orgasm of my life, a full body burst unlike what I'd felt as a man, and I was sobbing through it, overwhelmed by the sensation.
But I hadn't set a boundary yet. And Brian wasn't done.
He pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at my entrance. "Your turn to be penetrated," he whispered.
"Wait... I said..."
"You set the boundary. If you want to fuck Mirabella's tight pussy later, you won't say no."
He pushed in and I gasped. He was huge, stretching me wider than I thought possible, but my body was so lubricated, so responsive, that the pain was brief and then it was replaced by fullness an incredible, deep fullness that made me whimper.
He began to move, pounding into me with slow, deep thrusts. Each one pressed against something inside me that made my vision whiten, and I was moaning constantly now, my breasts bouncing with every thrust, Brian's hands returning to grab and squeeze them.
"Your tits are incredible," he groaned between thrusts. "I'm never letting go of these tits."
And the most humiliating, shocking part was - I was enjoying it. Yes, there was reluctance, yes, this was my friend inside me and it should have felt wrong, but my body was responding with a ferocity I couldn't control. Every thrust brought pleasure. Every grab of my breasts sent sparks through my nerves. I was clamped around him, milking him, and I could feel him getting closer.
"I'm going to cum," he gasped. "Inside you. I'm gonna cum inside you, Brenda."
"Brian, no, wait, I need to..."
But he was already going, his body tensing, his thrusts becoming erratic and fast, and then he erupted inside me, hot jets of cum flooding my depths. I came again from the sensation, my body convulsing around him, my breasts pressed flat against the desk as I screamed.
When it was over, I lay there panting, my body trembling, feeling him softening inside me. And then, reality hit.
"I need to depossess," I said urgently. "Now. Get the gun."
Brian pulled out with a wet sound and climbed off the desk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the alien gun. He flipped the switch to DE-POSSESS and aimed it at me.
He fired.
Nothing happened.
No burst of energy. No blue beam. Just a tiny click. No sensation of being pulled out of the body.
"What?" I said, sitting up. "What's wrong?"
Brian stared at the gun, pressing the trigger repeatedly. "I don't know. It's not working."
"Try again!"
He tried. Five times. Ten times. The gun sat dead in his hand, its silver casing dull, its light completely extinguished.
"It's out of juice," he said quietly. "The battery's dead."
"What is out of juice?! This is an alien gun, it doesn't have a battery!"
"I don't know how it works! But it's not doing anything. You're stuck in her."
Stuck. The word echoed in my head like a death sentence.
"Stuck?" I said. "I'm... stuck?"
"Yeah. Unless we can figure out how to charge it or whatever."
"How do we charge an alien possession ray?!"
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I sat on the desk, my breasts spilling over my lap, and tried to think. My mind was racing, but my body was still buzzing from what had just happened. Every nerve was alive, every touch still echoing, and the reality of my situation was crashing down on me like a wave.
I was trapped in Brenda's body. Forever. Unless...
"There has to be a way," I said, standing up unsteadily. My breasts swung forward and I instinctively grabbed them to steady myself, the familiar electric jolt of my nipples brushing my palms making me pause.
"There might be," Brian said slowly. "In the case, remember? There was that paper with the drawing. Maybe there's more to it."
"Then we go get the case. We check the boiler room. We find a way to charge this thing."
"Right. But it's after hours. The building locks at six."
"Then we break in tomorrow. Or tonight. I don't care. I can't stay in this body, Brian."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"What if... sex charges it?"
"What?"
"Think about it. The gun works on energy. Biological energy. The drawing showed someone possessing someone else. What if the act itself, the energy of it, powers the gun? What if having sex charges it?"
I stared at him. The look on his face was somewhere between genuine theory and opportunistic perversion.
"You're suggesting that we have sex again to charge the gun?"
"I'm saying it's a theory. And if it's true, well, then we have a solution, don't we?"
"Brian, you are the most disgusting person I have ever met."
"But think about it! We just had sex and the gun died right after. What if the orgasm used the last of the charge? What if another round would build it back up?"
"That is the most unhinged justification for fucking me again that I have ever heard."
"Come on, bro. You liked it. I could tell. Your body was screaming."
"Don't call me bro."
"Sorry. Ma'am."
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I was furious. Truly, genuinely furious. I was stuck in the body of a genuine circus freak. He was sitting there suggesting we solve it with more sex. And the worst part? A small, traitorous voice in the back of my mind was wondering if he was right. If sex actually did charge the thing, then...
No. No, no, no. That was insane. That was him manipulating me and I was going to let it happen.
"I'm leaving," I said, pushing off the desk. My breasts bounced as I stood, and I quickly crossed my arms over them, trying to button her blouse with trembling fingers.
"You can't leave," Brian said. "You're Brenda. Brenda has an apartment, a life, a schedule!"
"I'll figure something out."
"You have my number. Call me when you figure out how to get out of a dead body."
"You son of a bitch."
I slunk out of the office, my shoulders hunched, my arms still crossed over my breasts. I could feel the weight of them with every step, the sensitivity of my nipples through the thin fabric, the lingering ache between my legs. I was Brenda. I was going to be Brenda.
But as I walked down the hallway toward the exit, a strange thing happened. Brenda's hand, mine now, drifted down from its defensive cross and brushed against my chest. My fingers grazed my nipple through the blouse, and a shiver ran through me.
I stopped. I looked around. The hallway was empty. Nobody was watching.
Slowly, almost against my will, my hand slipped under the blouse. My fingers found my nipple, and I squeezed. Gently, softly, testing and a spark of pleasure lit up my nervous system like fireworks.
I froze, my eyes wide, my breath catching.
It felt amazing.
I let my fingers trail across the soft, heavy curve of my breast, feeling the dense flesh give under my touch. My nipple hardened again instantly, and I rolled it between my thumb and forefinger, a tiny gasp escaping my lips.
"Okay," I whispered to the empty hallway. "Okay. This is terrible. This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me."
My hand didn't stop.
"But maybe... maybe it won't be all bad."
I walked out of the building, one hand on my breast, my hips swaying in a way I couldn't control, and a growing sense of urgency behind the ugly face I now wore.
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