Beside Himself (MtF Mind Clone)

A young man accidentally clones his mind into the bodies of four sexy college women in Beside Himself, available on Smashwords, Amazon or wherever ebooks are sold.

Gary was working on a machine to read thoughts and he tested it out on the four sexy college co-eds that were renting out part of his house. But something went terribly wrong — or amazingly right? — and he ended up accidentally cloning his mind into their bodies.

The four new Garys don’t tell the original Gary what happened, instead opting to tease him for the whole week while they have their own sensual fun with each other in their nubile new bodies. But when they finally do the big reveal, it’s fun for the whole household.


Gary

Honestly, I couldn’t wait for my parents to leave on their next trip. For one blissful week I wouldn’t have to hear any of their nagging: “Clean up your room.” “Eat your dinner.” “Your invention better not blow up our house.”

So annoying.

I just nodded silently as mom ran through the list of emergency contacts and instructions she’d already written down: water the lawn, bring in the mail, no parties. Lauren, on the other hand, typed in additional notes on her phone.

“Just in case we lose the slip of paper,” she explained.

Lauren was one of four college-aged women who were renting out the back half of our house. We’d converted the house a year ago for some extra money, dividing off the back off the house into a separate four-bedroom complete with its own kitchen and dining room. The front half of the house was left to me and my parents while the basement, where I kept my inventions, was entirely my own. Mom and dad treated the four women who lived here like family, inviting them for dinner, gushing over them, and generally entrusting them with more responsibility than they entrusted to me. I didn’t really help out with the boarders, but I did fantasize about them.

Lauren was the overachiever of the bunch and often took it upon herself to care for everyone else. Her silky auburn hair was cut in a messy pageboy haircut, and she flicked her head every now and then to toss a sharp lock out of her eyes. Like me, she had fair freckled skin, dark hair, and a narrow chin. Though puberty had been kinder to her than to me. She was slender and long-limbed, with a slight bust that I could just make out beneath the burgundy top and black vest she wore. A matching pleated skirt curved gently over her rear, falling down to her knees.

I, on the other hand, was just a long, thin stick. Formless and gawky. Even at eighteen I didn’t have the muscle mass of most of my friends.

I folded my arms and continued to nod along to the droning of my parents. When my mom began to go over emergency numbers for the second time, Makayla broke in.

“We get it, Julie,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like we’ll forget the number to 9-1-1.”

Makayla was reserved and sarcastic, which some of my friends mistook for dark and mysterious. They even took it almost as a badge of honor to be insulted by her. As my mom turned to her to explain the importance of this information, Makayla sighed heavily and folded her arms across her slim chest.

Makayla wore a peach-colored cotton hoodie that set off  her mocha brown skin nicely and hugged her curvy breasts and wide hips. The hoodie was half-unzipped, revealing the purple shirt beneath. Dark purple leggings completed her outfit. As if to offset her dark, brooding nature, black cat ears stuck out from a hair bow nestled within her curly black hair.

Lauren began to type out these repeated instructions but Emily placed her hand over the phone. “Just copy and paste the stuff from before,” she huffed to Lauren, before turning to my parents with a huge smile and speaking in a voice that sounded genuinely thankful: “Thanks, Julie, for caring ever so much.”

Mom paused. As usual, it was hard to know how to take Emily. Even her compliments were barbed and she could turn from warm to cool in an instant.

Emily had a reputation around the neighborhood as an ice queen. Partly her attitude, and partly the fact that she dressed in cold blues and whites to compliment her pale skin and white-blonde hair. Today she was wearing a dark blue sweater with a large V-neck that swooped down to reveal a flash of her slight cleavage. Beneath the sweater she had on a white and lavender dress that swept down almost to the floor.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Dad said, placing a hand on mom’s shoulder.

“Ok. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye,” she said to us all in turn. Then she looked around. “Where’s Alicia?”

“Alicia?” Dad shouted into the house. “Come say goodbye.”

A few seconds later I heard Alicia hurrying down the hallway. Her blonde head peaked around the corner, her ever-present phone glued to her ear.

“Bye! Have a good trip!” She waved cheerfully.

Alicia was chipper and energetic. Long blonde hair flowed down her back in waterfall of curls. She was my fantasy cheerleader. A cute, happy-go-lucky type who could melt hearts with a few bats of her sky blue eyes. Very popular. Always on the phone to a wannabe-boyfriend. Invited to every party.

Yeah, I was super jealous.

She wore a tan zip-up long-sleeve top, the zipper pushed down just below the twin peaks of her perfect breasts. Beneath the sweater was a low-cut white shirt, which gave an ample view of her bouncing cleavage. Matching tan short shorts revealed acres of beautifully golden skin.

As she pivoted to head back to her section of the house, I heard her say into the phone: “Go on…”

Probably flirting with yet another guy from her university. They flocked to her like seagulls to a carelessly tossed French fry, fighting just for the opportunity to speak to her.

Mom and dad knew that was all they were going to get from her so they cut their losses and turned to me.

“Remember, Gary, no pranks,” dad said to me, waving his finger.

“Next time he fakes his death we’ll just assume it’s real and leave his body for the crows,” Makayla said.

To be fair, I did have a habit of pranks. Despite what the people who responded to my posts on ‘Am I the Asshole?’ thought, my pranks were funny. I’d never forget the look on Emily’s face when I’d lured her downstairs in the dark pretending to be an intruder, only to jump up and scare the hell out of her. I’d never forget it because I caught her wide-eyed terror on camera. It was well worth the black eye she’d given me.

Dad gave me one last warning look before following mom into the car and driving away. We stood on the stoop waving goodbye until they were out of sight. Then the four of us went our separate ways.

I hurried down to the basement where I’d been working on my latest invention. Every last dollar of my part time job had gone into building it. I’d scrounged parts from the local junkyard and any electronics my parents were throwing out. Hours had been spent meticulously researching psychology and physiognomy and conversing with other people who were in to neuro-hacking. Where they had stopped at deep brain stimulation or magnets to improve their own brain function, I was focused on expanding consciousness to others. I was intent on inventing a telekinesis machine that would let one user share thoughts directly with someone else.

I was pretty sure it would work. Ninety percent sure, at least. There was no precedent except in some of the top labs in the country, or possibly the military. But they weren’t sharing their research so I had to do my own.

I created the core of the machine by linking a desktop computer that I’d heavily modified to a PlayStation 5. The whole thing was connect by wires to a complicated looking metal helmet. I booted the system up and ran the diagnostics before diving in to finish my work. I could feel how close I was but it still took me most of the rest of the day before I was finally ready to test it.

When I went upstairs to check on the others, I found them back in their kitchen making dinner. At least, Lauren was bustling around the kitchen making dinner, the others were just around. Alicia was on the couch in the living room, one foot on the coffee table, painting her toenails a bright yellow while she flirted with some guy on the phone. Makayla was at the kitchen table, one hand on her chin as she played the latest game she’d become addicted to on her phone. Emily was in the kitchen, leaning against one counter, pretending to help Lauren but really just offering advice on how she could do things better.

“Nobody disturb me,” I announced, “I’m going to try out my machine.”

Makayla looked up from her phone. “Should we get the fire extinguisher ready?”

“Do you want us to haul your roasted corpse out onto the front lawn with the trash or just leave it in the basement for the police to find?” Emily sang out cheerfully.

I didn’t bother replying, just returned to the basement and slapped the helmet on my head. I set the radius of the effect wide enough to be able to encompass all four of the women. Surely with four people to choose from I’d capture at least one person’s thoughts.

I steadied the helmet on my head and typed in the parameters, pausing with my finger hovering over the ‘Enter’ button.Here goes nothing, I thought.


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