Chapter #14Some Girl-In-Girl Action by: Seuzz   As Beth puts her head between your knees, you topple onto the bed. Your back arches and you feel your eyes roll back in your skull. You feel it again—the churning of some horror coiling in your chest and gusts—as it rises onto the back of your throat and the back of your tongue. You've only to unhinge your jaw and it will spew forth ...
Instead you force your jaw and your throat shut, and the sickness seems to spiral up into your skull through the base, boring like a screw. You feel your brain twisting and spinning like a merry-go-round. And when it stops and all is solid again, and the sickness has sunk into your guts again and vanished ...
You lift your head and peer down the length of your body. The kneeling girl has pulled your jeans and panties down below your knees, and has pushed her face into the fork where your legs and body meet. Something warm and muscular is pushing and probing up inside you.
Mmmm, that's me down there, doing that, you croon pleasurably to yourself. I wonder if I like it.
Because you are Beth Larter, and you are inside Dana Pak's body while some meat-sack android version of yourself is going down on you.
* * * * *
Except you know that you're not really Beth Larter, that you're Zachary Dillon, and that all this is just in your head. It's like when you were inside Beth's body, thinking with her brain. I'm Zachary Dillon, but I'm totally Beth Larter. And you really could think like her and feel like her and act like her, without strain and without even really trying. Like you weren't just wearing her body like a sack, but wearing her mind like a skin. It's like that now: the mind of Beth Larter pulled tight over your own, like a nylon web, and every fiber and every lattice of it penetrated by and flexing under the control of your own will. I am Beth Larter.
But this time you are in the body of Dana Pak. And you are enjoying the sensation of being here as Beth would enjoy it, not only as you would.
"Oh, that's nice, Beth," you murmur as the tongue pushes up deeper inside you. "Oh God, you're so good at this, Beth. Jesus, it's like you're a natural." You titter. "Why did you never try this before, Beth? You could make so many other girls so happy!" You tense and relax, tense and relax, as she probes deeper. You rock your hips and compress your spine, and let the rolling waves of pleasure break up and over your shoulders, and push up the back of your neck to touch the bottom of your skull. Fibers and tendrils of flame are starting to spreading nicely through your hips and guts, and already you can feel something bestial building down below. Mmm, I'm so good at this! you think with a pride that swells in tempo with the swelling pleasure. I can't believe that girl with her tongue inside me—me!—knows exactly what to do!
"Beth!" a voice cries out from somewhere else in the house. A short cry of horror bursts from your gut as the girl pulls her face from between your legs and looks up. "Beth!" the woman's voice calls again.
"Be right back," your body says as she scrambles up, wiping her mouth with the back of her forearm as she hurries for the door. "I'm coming!" she screams as she rips open the door and charges out.
I was coming too, you pout, and stretch one hand down to feel and push into the sticky mess that the girl left behind. But it's not the same. Not even when you tell yourself, I'm fingering another girl's body can you get the same revv going.
But it does make you thoughtful. You bounce upright and pull up your panties and jeans far enough to cover your shame as you toddle out of the bedroom and into the guest hall bathroom. With a fistful of toilet paper you mop yourself out, and squat to pee and wipe yourself clean again. Then you stand and button and straighten yourself all up again, and confront yourself in the mirror.
An alien face and form start back at you from them.
Alien? Not totally. You know the girl (of course you do; Dana is your crush), but not by name, only by sight. She's Asian-American (Japanese or Korean or something) and she's very pretty. Exotically so. Easy to imagine her getting lots of attention. A pang of jealousy stings you, and your brow darkens resentfully. Look at you, you think. Dragon girl. You'd be a natural in a cheerleader uniform. Even an unofficial cheerleader. I mean, look at you! You pout at the sweatshirt emblazoned with the Eastman dragon. With that Japanese-type face, with those eyes, you're not just showing school spirit, you're embodying it!
But a little smile of spite pulls at the corners of your mouth as you grab a fistful of dark, thick hair and pull it forward so it tumbles over your chest and over your breasts. A light of malice comes into your eyes.
But now I embody it, you little Hong Kong tart, you taunt yourself. Because I've got your body, and I'm—
You falter, the moment broken. Beth Larter doesn't know the girl's name, though you do, and that disconnect queers the fantasy: the fantasy of being a Beth Larter who has stolen another girl's body. When it does come back, it's in a different register.
I wonder if this will work? you ask yourself as you scope yourself out. I don't know how to be Dana while inside Dana's body. But I know how to be Beth inside her body. That's better than being me inside her body. As Beth I probably won't go stomping around like a fucking meat-suit transvestite. You stand back from the mirror and try out a few poses: the kind of poses Beth would try if she was a slinky Asian girls with tight curves and long hair, instead of a basketball-playing tomboy with her hair cut in a bob. They look woefully exaggerated, and you cringe.
But you instantly feel better on exiting the bathroom when you notice how confident you now are on your feet—you have instantly learned how to walk in heels.
* * * * *
Beth has to help out by getting dinner ready, and you get an invite from her mom—your mom, it feels like, as you are still channeling Beth—to stay and eat with them, so you do. It's a strange but exciting feeling: eating at your table with your family, who don't know that it's really you in another girl's body, and you and Beth exchange quick, secret smiles throughout the meal. Afterward, while cleaning up, the two of you bump up against and touch each other, but that's the farthest you're able to go. Beth gives you a ride back to your house at around eight o'clock. She has warmed up considerably since you first met her at her place, and the two of you are all grins as she pulls up in front of Dana's house. You give each other a quick hug, exclaiming how nice it will be to start hanging out with each other at school. You hop out, and wave to Beth from the front porch as she pulls back out into the street. Then, with a deep breath, you go inside.
It's quiet, and almost you chicken out and attempt to steal upstairs without seeing anyone. But you put a brave face on things and go in search of Dana's parents. You find them in the living room, absorbed in a TV show. "I'm back," you announce.
"Did you have a nice time?" Dana's mom asks you, giving you her full attention, while her father only glances at you. "How's Zach?"
"He's fine. He's upset because— Well, never mind."
"What's he upset about?"
You sigh, as you imagine Dana might. "He got sick at a party the other night, so he thinks his life is over."
"Oh my goodness! Is he alright?"
"He will be. He just needed someone to talk to about it all. Anyway, I didn't finish my homework like I needed to—" You hold up Dana's book bag as evidence. "So I'm going to go do that now."
"Well, I'm glad you were able to help him out. Did you get something to eat?"
"Yes, we wound up at a friend of his house. Beth Larter." Just saying the name gives you a thrill. "So I'll see you tomorrow if I don't see you again tonight." And with that you make your escape.
* * * * *
Upstairs you sit for awhile at Dana's very neat work desk, and check the dozen texts that have piled up on her phone, and which you continue to ignore. You try once again to imitate her handwriting, and fail, even though you can now do Beth's handwriting perfectly. After a half hour, you give up and fumble your way through a nightly ritual that you hope is similar to Beth's: washing off makeup and combing out hair and brushing your teeth. Sarah comes barging in on you while you're in the bathroom, but you do your best to pretend she isn't there so you don't get sucked into a conversation that you won't know how to navigate. You've no idea what Dana wears to bed, so you strip down to panties and put on a loose-fitting t-shirt. In bed, with the lights off you spend nearly an hour staring at the dark ceiling, wondering how you are going to get through tomorrow. When sleep steals over you, it comes with a feeling like you're being sucked alive into a pit of tar-like ooze, and you feel yourself conscious even after you have sunk within its coils.
During the night you are again nearly sick, but it passes almost instantly.
* * * * *
And in the morning, when you wake, it isn't Beth Larter who looks out through your eyes and into the bathroom mirror, and it isn't Zach Dillon either.
It is Dana Pak.  You have the following choice:  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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