Luke’s next door neighbor, Karen, is a mature woman who’s everything he’s not: rich, good-looking, and curvy. The only problem is she’s also entitled, rude, and just plain mean.
So when Luke is gifted with some magic that allows him to swap bodies with her, he gets his chance to change her life. He hadn’t intended to become Karen forever, but the more time he spends in her skin, the more he envies her life…and the more of her own memories he gains. No one can tell he’s an impostor in her body, and then the real fun begins.
Luke discovers that Karen must obey his every word and he gets to work punishing her for her past sins, while getting very used to his new life, his new body…and his well-endowed new husband.
This is an erotic fantasy featuring sexual scenes of domination and control, and is intended for mature audiences.
I stared at Karen’s body in the mirror, adjusting my yoga outfit over my huge, perfect breasts. Her face was much prettier without that bitchy look across it all the time. I’d definitely made her life better, and now I was going to reap the rewards. I figured she was starting to get some of my memories, too, and no doubt she’d be attracted to her old body. Well, she could look all she wanted, but she’d never get these hips back, this gorgeous face, these breasts. I wanted her to see everything she was about to lose. I wanted her to suffer. And…I wanted to enjoy her body. Just looking at my new body in the mirror was making me wet. I ran a hand across my yoga pants and between my legs, sighing lightly as a pleasure shivered through me. There would be plenty of time for this soon.
The truth is, like most people, I barely gave most of my neighbors a second thought. The guy two doors down – we say ‘hey’ when we see each other, that’s about it. The couple across the street – nods and the occasional friendly wave. Woman on the corner – not sure if I could pick her out of a line-up. But Karen, my next-door neighbor, now that was a different story. Since moving in next door to her, my mind had idly wandered to her pretty much every day. I had essentially memorized every detail of her face, her body and, unfortunately, her attitude.
So, when I heard her yelling out on the sidewalk and decided to intervene, I knew right away what I was getting myself into. I was pretty much digging my own grave, but I opened my front door and headed down the steps anyway.
Karen was in classic Entitled Rich Bitch mode – designer outfit, oversized non-fat latte in hand, an expression that was equal parts sneer and indignation plastered across her face.
She was looming over a homeless woman saying, “You can’t be here, you know.”
I paused because (a) the spectacular sense of entitlement was astounding to watch and (b) from my position at the top of the steps I had a pretty clear view right down Karen’s black v-neck top and she had empirically the nicest tits on the planet. Plus her silky black hair fell loosely around her face and her skinny jeans left practically nothing to the imagination.
Her bitchy attitude, though, made it kinda hard to enjoy the view. She was in full rant mode. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you here. Go find another place to hang out and drag down the property values.”
The homeless woman—who despite looking like the combination of age and poverty should have sapped her of any fighting spirit—was actually withstanding the tirade pretty well. Folding her arms, she retorted, “I’m not harming anyone. What gives you the right to decide who can—”
Karen was having none of it. “Let me be clear, this is my house, my street, my tax dollars keeping the sidewalk clean from people like you. I want you to move along.”
“And if I don’t?” the old biddy challenged. “You gonna get your hands dirty and move me along? I’d like to see you try.”
“Are you threatening me?” Karen glared down at her. “Don’t think I won’t call the cops.”
I figured it was about time to jump into the skirmish… before Karen either dialed 911 or slugged an elderly homeless woman. I came down the steps and got between them. “Is everything okay?”
“No, it is not okay,” Karen grimaced. “This is the third time I’ve seen her here and I’m not putting up with it any more.”
I nodded and adopted my most placating tone. “Understood, I’ll handle it.”
“Good, because I am so over it.” And with that she turned and headed to her house. I watched her go—past the Porsche in the driveway and the manicured lawn and neatly trimmed hedges—her ass jiggling a little with every indignant step.
Apparently, I wasn’t very subtle, because the homeless woman spoke up.
“Like her do you?”
“What?” I turned back to her and admitted slightly sheepishly, “Oh, yeah, I guess I do.”
She was grinning from ear to ear. “Just, imagine what you could do with a body like that.”
“Never happen,” I replied. “She’s married for one thing… Not to mention she’s spoiled, rich bitch evil incarnate.”
“Yeah, there’s the rub.” She stood up and began rummaging through her shopping cart, digging into old shopping bags. “Cold-hearted bitch.”
“Here.” I fished into my pocket and dug out some cash. “I’m sorry she was rude to you.”
The woman took the bills and smiled. “Let me give you something in return. What’s your name?”
“Luke.” I replied. “Give me something?”
“Yes, yes.” She handed me a small tin from her trolley. Opening it, I saw that there were herbs inside – green leaves that smelled faintly warm and exotic.
I raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What am I looking at?”
“Tea?” I asked doubtfully. “Doesn’t tea come in little bags?”
She rolled her eyes a little. “Not good tea. Look, here’s what you do. Make a pot of tea. Then, invite around your lady friend and drink with her. You’ll both get exactly what you deserve.”
“Really?” I got a whiff of the tea and immediately, my thoughts supplied the most outlandish and interesting possibility. Perhaps the tea was some kind of aphrodisiac that would drive Karen wild. My mind quickly flicked to images of her jumping on top of me like some wild cougar, ripping off that scrap of a top and shoving her tits in my face.
I gave the woman a grin. “Thanks.”
“Remember,” she held up a warning finger, “drink the tea together.” She turned and gave me a little departing waved. “Have a lovely day, young man. I’m sure all of you dreams will come true.”
“Got it,” I said. “Thanks again.”
The woman shuffled away and I rushed inside to boil the kettle. I wasn’t a big tea drinker but somewhere in the back of the cupboard was a teapot some ex-roommate had left behind. I’d meant to give it to Goodwill months ago, now I was glad I’d never gotten around to it.
I let the tea steep for a few minutes, the scent filling the kitchen. It was sweet—lavender, a touch of mint and something else subtle and alluring. I poured two cups and headed next door.
Karen opened the door and frowned instantly. “Oh, it’s… you.”
Six months we’d lived next door to each other. A few yards apart, our windows directly across from each other. We saw each other a couple of times a week – walking to the car, putting out the trash, grabbing the mail. I introduced myself to her at least twice maybe three times… and she clearly couldn’t remember my name.
I was tempted to turn around and head back home. But the tea was wafting aromatic steam and my mood instantly mellowed. Didn’t hurt either that Karen had folded her arms and the soft swell of her breasts peeked above her top.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay… not shaken up by what happened outside.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she sniffed. “Totally stressed me out though, having to deal with her.”
“I figured,” I held out a cup, “so I brought you some tea.”
I could see something in her face, a moment’s hesitation as if she was about to refuse it. Then her face relaxed and she took the cup. She seemed to surprise herself as she added, “Come in.”
I followed her inside. “Thanks.”
“This tea looks strange.” She stared down into her cup. “What kind is it?”
“Uh, a personal blend. Not on the market. Very exclusive.”
She took a gulp. “It’s good.”
I took a long sip and then found myself unable to stop until my cup was empty. Over the top of the cup, I could see Karen apparently feeling the same way, gulping down the warm liquid. For a moment, I was filled with a strange feeling, something giddy and dizzying. Then, suddenly, I dropped to the floor. I kept my eyes and wits about me for a few seconds, long enough to see Karen’s body fall to the floor beside me. After that, everything went black.
My head was swimming and my vision was blurred but I made myself reach for the counter and pull myself upright. Through the fog, I looked around my kitchen for my neighbor—whatever his name was… Lance or Logan or something—but I was alone.
As my vision slowly cleared, my eyes fell to the shattered cups and drops of spilled tea. My memories were jagged and frayed but I remembered the tea. It had been so strange, the tea had looked disgusting and I hadn’t wanted to drink it, but it was as if I had no control over my body. I couldn’t force myself to stop gulping it down. A suspicion crept into my foggy consciousness, had I been drugged? Drugged by my neighbor and left unconscious on my kitchen floor?
Anger coursed through me. If he’d so much as touched me while I was unconscious, I’d sue the hell out of him… right after hiring some guys to beat him to a bloody pulp. Furious, I gripped the edge of the counter.
And that’s about the moment I realized something was very off. My usually manicured hands were suddenly massive and hairy with dirty nails. A man’s hands. Looking down I saw a body to match: loosely buttoned shirt covering a flat chest, messy jeans hanging slack against skinny thighs, the…bulge beneath my pants. What the fucking fuck? I had to see this for myself and ran for the mirror in the hallway. Christ, if I thought about it I could feel my little dick rubbing against my inner thigh. I stood frozen and disbelieving in front of my reflection. My hair was short, unkempt, I had stubble. STUBBLE. I was a man. I was that man.
Reeling I murmured, “What the hell” My voice emerged too deep, too gravelly.
I poked a finger at the glass hoping to reveal some trick; one last futile attempt to pretend this wasn’t happening. My finger—jagged nail and all—stabbed at the cold, solid surface of the mirror. This was horribly real.
That was when I heard a noise; someone was in my bedroom. I charged down the hall and came face to face with my own body, sitting on my bed wearing one of my sexier nightgowns – chocolate brown silk clinging to my body with a slash of lace across my chest. My body leaned back against the bed frame and smiled. “Oh, it’s you.”
“What… Who are—”
He cut me off. “Luke.” He grinned. “I’m guessing you won’t forgot my name again after this.”