Failing the Test
Tina is worried that her husband is cheating on her. With the help of some magic she switches bodies with a gorgeous ebony prostitute to try to seduce him as a test of his love. But things go wrong when the prostitute’s pimp shows up and forces Tina to work for him. Can she get her body back? And what’s happened to her life in the mean time?
Lawrence senses something different about Jess ever since she swapped bodies with the black bully, Jamal, as part of a swap class. The swap ended last week, but she’s still not acting herself. Is it just the result of her experience, or is there something more sinister going on? Lawrence is determined to find the truth and save his best friend, but maybe not before he has a chance to see her naked…
The stories in this collection total over 13,000 words and feature interracial body swaps and explicit erotic content.
The sausage was cold, the toast was stale, and the eggs were getting runny. If there was a more perfect metaphor for our marriage, I hadn’t found it. Cameron came running in—all designer business suit, new cologne and preoccupation with his phone—and brushed a cursory kiss on my cheek.
I gave him a quick grin and grabbed his hand before he could run off. “Don’t you want your breakfast? I made it special.”
Eyes glued to his phone, he asked, “What’s so special about it?”
“Well,” I trailed a finger up his arm slowly, “you know what today is don’t you?”
“God! I’m running late.” He pulled his hand out of my grasp. “Tell you what, Tina sweetheart, text it to me. I’ve got to go.”
Wounded, I muttered quietly, “Ok, I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight?” he replied, faintly surprised. “No, babe, I’m away on business.” He dashed to the door. “Gotta go.”
“Cameron?” My call fell on deaf ears.
It was really simple: a few years ago, when we were first married, Cameron was attentive, loving, and determined to drag me into bed at every opportunity. I was something of a beginner in that arena but I was eager to explore my budding sexuality with my tender and loving husband.. That all ended when Cameron got this new job. Overnight he went from a design administrator, to an administrative designer; whatever that means. No, I know what it means. It means more time spent out of town and less time spent in the bed.
I sighed to myself and threw another breakfast into the trash. I wasn’t normally the kind of woman to worry but that’s all I’d been doing lately. Cameron kept coming and going with no regard for me; distant even on the rare occasions he was home. And now he’d forgotten our wedding anniversary. If I couldn’t worry, then I couldn’t do anything. Especially because, only last week, I had noticed that the wedding ring was missing from his finger.
Like any distraught person in the modern age I had turned to google. A quick search of my circumstances revealed forum after forum filled with sob stories and advice. Desperate for reassurance, I had posted my concerns and then instantly logged out, immediately determined not to read the replies.
But now I couldn’t ignore the problem any longer. I took a seat at my laptop and opened up the web page. The replies were crushing.
Cameron was constantly away on business. Cameron wasn’t intimate in the bedroom anymore. Cameron sometimes left without saying a word. Cameron didn’t usually eat at home. Cameron was happier when he was on his own. Cameron took off his wedding ring. The forums told me what I had suspected but not wanted to acknowledge: Cameron was cheating on me.
I clutched my hand over my mouth, a fierce rush of tears building behind my eyes and threatening to fall. I didn’t want to believe it but the evidence was overwhelming.
That’s when I saw the flashing message icon in the top right hand corner of the forum. On autopilot, I clicked it and brought up a new message with the subject line: There’s a Way You Can Know For Sure. I grimaced, realizing it was an ad, but my eyes scanned the message regardless and I found myself clinking through to the website…because what it was claiming to sell was an unbelievable item at an unbelievable price: a magic spell book, for free.
No, I thought to myself. That’s silly.
There’s a way you can know for sure.
In a moment of weakness—with a supposed solution only one click away—I input my name and address and hit ‘Order’. I slammed my laptop shut and marveled at my own gullibility. It was so obviously a scam. And, on the crazy off chance that a book actually did arrive, what would I do, turn Cameron into a frog?
The spell book arrived less than four hours after I placed the order. It was old and heavy, with desiccated pages and a worn, threadbare cover. Flicking through, I found page after page of spells: truth spells, memory spell, invisibility spells. All of them impossibly convoluted and complex with ingredients I had never heard of.
Except for one spell: a body swap spell. It stood out, simple and crystal clear requiring only a few ingredients and the willing participation of one other person. A plan was hatching in my mind.
“Hello, Administrative Design, Stacy speaking.” She sounded young and blonde and pretty. Her voice was so sickeningly sweet and accommodating it turned my stomach. If Cameron was cheating on me, maybe it was with her.
“Uh hi, this is Tina, Cameron’s wife.” I swallowed and forced myself to sound more confident than I felt. “I need to get hold of him. Could you please tell me where he’s staying?”
“One moment please.”
Did she get a little colder when I told her who I was? No, that must have been my imagination.
I jotted down the information she gave me and hung up. Now that I knew where Cameron was staying I considered the rest of my plan. On the surface it was straightforward: I would swap into the body of another woman, approach Cameron, seduce him and find out if he would cheat on me.
The whole thing seemed ridiculous but there was a sense of relief in just doing something, in not just sitting around and wallowing in suspicion and uncertainty. It drove me forward. Drove me to book a plane ticket. And find a hotel room. And call an escort agency. And get on the plane.
* * *
The hotel room was cramped and filthy, a noisy room in a dangerous part of the city. It didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to be staying here long. I just needed a quiet place to perform the magic.
There was a knock at the door and I opened it to what I can only describe as an ebony goddess. My eyes flew over her luscious curves, her satiny dark skin, her full tight breasts and her perfectly bubbled butt. Her dress was skimpy and glittery, it clung to her body, hugging the swell of her breasts and revealing the lean length of her thighs. Her attire—not to mention her bright, curly pink hair—signaled clearly to the world that she was open for business.
She was from an entirely different world and I gulped at the thought of being her.
“Are you Tina, honey?” she asked. Her voice was a little deeper than I would’ve expected. I nodded and she continued, “Alright, this is your first time with a woman? I charged one hundred for the first fifteen minutes, and ten for every fifteen minutes after. That okay, hun?”
“Well, actually,” I shuffled my fingers together, “I had a different proposition.”
“I’m sorry?” she moved towards me and I stepped back. “Were the prices not clear when you rang?”
“No, it’s no that…” I felt my back touch the wall. “I want to offer you more money, to do… something very unusual.”
“You wanna do ass stuff?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Just…I don’t think you’ve ever done this before. It’s unusual.” She looked towards the door, clearly about to leave. “Three thousand dollars.” I blurted.
“How unusual?” She paused, clearly still wary but tempted all the same.
“I want to swap bodies with you,” I said bluntly, “so I can see if my husband is cheating on me.”
“You must be as stupid as you is skinny,” she laughed. “I’m outta here. You crazy. As if I wanna be a stupid, mousy bitch.”
“No wait,” I said. “Just try it, if it doesn’t work I’ll still pay you.”
She blew a puff of air in exasperation. “Lemme see the money,” she said.
I showed her the rolls of cash I had gotten out of our savings account. She grunted, then nodded. “How long for? Supposing it does work?”
I felt my hopes flare. “A few hours, two at most. The spell only lasts that long.”
“A’ight,” she said, eventually. “Where you want me?”
“On the bed.”
She took a seat on the bed. I gently lay her down then lay down next to her. I grabbed the book from the nightstand and read the instructions again. The salt, lavender and sage were mixed and on the bed, we were both lying down and we had both given our consent. It was time to see if it worked.
For just a moment I paused. What if the book was just an elaborate joke? What if it didn’t work? More terrifying…what if it did? I gulped and forced myself to speak the words aloud.
I felt a tickling feeling, like a current of electricity star in my toes and flow upward through my body. It began pulsing, like my body was filling with electricity. There was a sharp, acidic taste in y mouth. I groaned and heard the woman next to me groaning too. The room rattled, jittery like an earthquake, then the bed splintered beneath us and we crashed to the floor.
I woke up to the strangest headache of my life. It wasn’t painful, just dizzying, like I had been spun around and around for the past hour. What was more disorientating though was seeing my own body lying there asleep next to me. I looked down at myself seeing nothing but cleavage. My massive mocha breasts pushed together in a tight bra. In awe, I grabbed them, my now pink manicured fingernails digging into my skin as I squeezed. I winced with pain but smiled despite it. I was now a skimpily-dressed prostitute with enormous proportions.
“What in the hell happened?” The prostitute mumbled as she slowly stirred and turned over in my body. She took a look at me, or her, and screamed, “Now what in the—”
She stopped mid-sentence to inspect her new hands. They were dainty and delicate, much smaller than her old pair, or my new pair.
I could empathize. It was weird seeing yourself like this. I thought it would be like looking in a mirror but really it was like watching my twin. I watched my former body stand up; I really had let myself go these past few years. My butt was too big, my face could use some make-up, and I was skinny in the all places I didn’t need to be. It didn’t help that as she turned to inspect herself I saw my own body from angles I’d never seen before. She was right; I was mousy.
She glared at me. “Goddamn, I didn’t think this would really work! I don’t wanna be a skinny white bitch!”
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to calm her down. “It’ll wear off in a couple of hours.”
“Fuck that,” she said, pushing my hands away. “Gimme back my body, gimme back my titties.”
“Three thousand,” I blurted out. “It’s yours. Just let me use your body.”
I watched her consider before finally snapping, “Fine.” She ran a hand down her chest. “Your body feels strange.”
“So does yours.” I gestured to her breasts, then felt my stomach. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Dick,” she smirked, or I smirked. It was a bewildering experience, hearing her vocabulary coming out of my own lips. “But nah man, I don’t eat after three o’clock. And you better not, either. I might gotta do ass stuff later.”
Her mention of ass made me realize that something was uncomfortable in my tight pants. She must have been wearing a thong, because the thing was cutting me up my, or her, crack.
“Ok. I’ve got to get going. I need to go meet my husband.”
“Hey now.” She approached me. My old body was smaller and much less intimidating than this one. Still, there was something behind my old eyes that made me hesitate. “You bring ma body back and bring it back right. I’ll find you otherwise and you ain’t gonna wish I did neither.”
“I’m just going to see if my husband would cheat,” I assured her. “That’s all.”
“Yeah well,” she crossed her arms awkwardly and I could tell she had been expecting her arms to be greeted by a heaving set of breasts, “you best be quick about it, ya hear?”
“As quick as I can.” I headed awkwardly for the door, her purple heels giving me some trouble. Not that I didn’t know how to walk in heels, it’s just these were a little larger than any I had dealt with before. And my body was a little more amply proportioned than I was used to.
“I’ll be back soon, don’t go anywhere.”
“Bitch, where am I gonna go like this?”