My latest book features a couple non-traditional body switches for those readers who don’t usually see their kinks in the caption community, along with some requested favorites:
Jay is excited when his virtual reality rig arrives. It promises to put him right in the middle of the action, as though he was one of the participants in his favorite erotic movies. And it works.
Only…there must be something wrong, because instead of a big burly man, Jay finds himself in several other bodies including:
the biker chick
the granny
the pregnant wife
the maid with a surprise between her legs.
But with no way to exit each scene until it’s over, all he can do is hang on and take it in Virtual Worlds, now available on Smashwords, Amazon, or wherever ebooks are sold.
Jay was sitting on a bar stool in front of a nicked and stained wooden bar. There was no sense of movement or transition. Just one moment darkness, the next he was here. The bar seemed completely real. There was no lag, no sense that anything was special effects or computer graphics. Something cold was in one hand and looked down to see that his fingers were wrapped around a bottle of beer. Only, the fingers were slender and feminine. He followed the line of his bare arm. The contours were soft, delicate but still toned. Every inch of skin was covered in intricate tattoos.
Movement in front of him drew his attention and he looked up to see that directly in front of him, behind the bar, was a large mirror. His mouth dropped open. There was a woman staring back, her mouth just as open as his. His reflection. The woman in the mirror wore a maroon singlet with a skull across the front. The plunging neckline dipped down to just above his breasts, which were tiny but still strained against the fabric of the tight top. The nipples poking against the shirt looked odd and, pulling the top open to gaze down at his petite breasts, he found that each nipple was pierced with a metal stud.
Tattoos of words and symbols and images ran across both arms, over his chest, and down across his taut stomach. His hair was shaved just above one ear and brushed over the other side to fall in a plunging deep maroon waterfall down his shoulder. His nose and ears were pierced and, licking his lips, he felt a tongue stud knock against his teeth. His entire body was petite, and his dark shadowy eyes glared out from beneath spiky brows, which were also pierced. Glancing down at himself, past the perky tits, he found he was clad in skintight jeans, ripped here and there to show off some of his beautiful skin. Thigh high leather boots finished off the outfit, each with a small heel that was somehow both delicate and dangerous.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not what he signed up for. He hadn’t wanted to be a chick. He grabbed his little tits, squeezing them. They felt so real. He could feel everything, both his hands on his tits and the way his skin gave in so gently.
“Cancel program,” he called out in a tiny voice. There was no response. “Um, end. Escape. Quit.”
Each attempt was more frantic than the last, until Jay gave up. There was no indication of what he was supposed to do here. There had been no directions, no objective, unless it was in the instruction booklet he hadn’t bothered reading. He took a swig of the beer, surprised at how accurate the simulated beer tasted. He had to give it to the designers, they did amazing work. Jay could feel every inch of his new female body even—as he shifted in his seat—the emptiness between his legs.
The door of the bar opened with a bang and three large men strode in. They were all beefy and walked with a distinct swagger, like they would kick the ass of anyone who got in the way. The leader was a blond wearing an immense leather studded jacket stretched across a broad chest. The guys to either side—one brunet, one with jet black hair—weren’t as big but were still intimidating, with beefy arms studded with tattoos. They were all dressed in worn leather gear, possibly Hell’s Angles, possibly something even more dangerous. They radiated an aura of supreme confidence as they zeroed in on Jay and walked slowly towards him.
The blond leader stopped in front of Jay and the other two moved around and behind him, surrounding Jay as the leader stared at him with a hard smile. They were so close Jay could feel the heat radiating off their bodies. Jay gulped.
“Hey, honey,” the leader said, “We’re looking for a good time.”
“You found it,” Jay was surprised to hear himself say. What the fuck? He’d said it on impulse, as though prompted by the program. Like his mouth wasn’t completely under his control.
The leader shot out his hand and grabbed a handful of Jay’s hair, jerking their lips together roughly. The leader’s spicy scent filled Jay’s nose as his tongue invaded Jay’s mouth, thrusting deep, claiming ownership of Jay’s body. There was another hand sliding around from behind that landed on his tit and squeezed painfully. Jay’s breath hitched in his throat and the leader pressed harder against his little mouth as Jay squirmed. Another hand latched on to his other tit, caressing his skin, twisting the little metal bar embedded in his nipple and causing wonderful pain to shoot through Jay’s body, radiating down to his thighs and sparking an ember of lust. Their greedy fingers explored Jay’s body roughly as he was forced to keep kissing, forced to be their little playtoy. And, despite the outer hardness of his new form, the sheer unfamiliarity of it all, his body clearly enjoyed being taken like this. He could feel himself warming, his thighs growing wet.
Read the rest on Smashwords, Amazon, or wherever ebooks are sold.
“Shut up and take my money”-Phillip J. Fry