Marissa let out a horrified shriek and staggered away as Greg crumpled to the ground. His seemed to fold in on himself, like a bouncy castle with all the air suddenly sucked out, and when he hit the floor he landed as a pile of empty skin. Bracing herself against a chest of drawers and trying not to hyperventilate, Marissa’s eyes bulged in horror.

‘What have I done?’ she gasped.

Scrambling for the gun, which she had dropped in her shock, she analysed it more closely than before. After a few seconds she came across the device model engraved into the handle and felt suddenly faint: Costume Gun Ultra V2.0.

Her head spinning, she dropped down heavily onto the edge of the bed. How had it all gone so wrong? She had come here to put a stop to Greg’s relentless bullying of her son, but she had never wanted to get rid of him entirely. After all, it wasn’t Greg’s fault he had turned out this way – with materialistic parents and a slutty, shallow girlfriend, he didn’t have a single positive influence to learn from. Her intentions had been pure; if only she could have helped him change his perceptions she was sure he would stop terrorising her son.

She had thought she had found the solution too. The online description had said the gun ‘allows the user to make anybody they please think just like them’ – perfect! If she could simply impress her own loving, respectful attitude on her son’s bully the issue would be solved.

Only now did she realise her mistake in not researching the gun more thoroughly. ‘You make others think like you because they are you,’ she muttered miserably. ‘You wear them as a costume. Oh God, what have I done?’

Just then, Marissa heard someone closing the front door and a singsong voice echoed through the house. ‘Oh ba-by, I’m here.’

Marissa’s blood ran cold: Princess. Greg’s girlfriend. Princess couldn’t find her like this! Standing over Greg’s deflated skin clutching a costume gun!

Forcing down her panic, Marissa frantically attempted to come up with a way out of her situation. Unfortunately, the only possibility she had the time to pull off was also the one thing she didn’t want to do; the idea alone made her sick to her stomach, but she had no other choice.

Cursing under her breath she hastily tore off her clothes and stashed them in Greg’s cupboard along with the costume gun. Then, snatching up the flaccid Greg skinsuit she stuffed herself inside. The suit stretched to accommodate her curvy frame, bulging about her plump thighs and wide hips. For a second she panicked she wouldn’t fit, but the suit soon started to contract, moulding her figure into a perfect replica of her son’s bully.

She didn’t have time to take stock of the bizarre sensation, for she could hear Princess ascending the stairs. Fortunately, Greg had insisted Marissa come upstairs for a chat when she first arrived. She had the impression he would have attempted to seduce her if she hadn’t turned the costume gun on him, though now she was thankful for his sleaziness as she had just enough time to seal up the suit before Princess strode into the room wearing a mischievous smile.

‘Hey there, stud,’ she purred, ‘what do you think to my outfit?’ Princess did a little twirl, showing off her attire. She wore a tight white vest top under which she was clearly sans underwear, paired with an equally tight red skirt that boasted her enviable ass.

Marissa felt a stirring in her jeans but tried to ignore it. ‘Well, uh, you look very good, honey… hot, even.’

Princess giggled and stalked towards her. ‘Since when do you call me honey? You don’t even call my pussy juice honey, and that’s the only sweet thing about me.’

All at once, Marissa felt an unfamiliar taste rise on her tongue. Well, unfamiliar to her at least. It seemed now she was wearing Greg she had access to his more physical memories: the taste of Princess’s sweet nectar was suddenly saturating her tongue.

Marissa shuffled nervously from foot to foot. Her mind was in overload. Wearing the skinsuit was the most confusing experience she had ever had. It was incredibly tight, like a corset but around her entire body, yet it was far from uncomfortable. The inside of the suit was warm and soft, and though it constricted her figure the suit was oddly soothing. So soothing in fact, that the disorientation her senses were trying to cope with seemed inconsequential – she could no longer feel her heavy breasts nor the drooping weight of her upper arms, and her crotch felt unusually heavy with Greg’s cock, yet she felt just as content in his body as she had her own.

Still, the devilish glint in Princess’s eye as she approached sent simultaneous bolts of apprehension and arousal coursing through her.

‘I think I like you calling me honey though. It makes me sound like a good girl. But we both know how bad I am, don’t we?’  

To Marissa’s shock, Princess suddenly sprang into motion. Pouncing on the man she assumed was her boyfriend, she drove him onto the bed and crawled on top of him. Hiking her skirt up, Princess rubbed her body along his, writhing like an incensed serpent and moaning into his ear.

‘I’ve got you right where I want you now, baby. Your parents won’t be home for hours, so we’ve got plenty of time to have our fun. Mmmh, I can’t wait to feel that big cock inside me.’

Marissa’s heart was beating a tattoo, however it took her a moment to realise she was throbbing with arousal rather than panic. The heat from Princess’s body was swelling through her chest and the girl’s slutty groans were setting Marissa’s new cock twitching. Bursts of pleasure split across her crotch and her thoughts began to blur.

This is wrong, Marissa thought. She’s just a shallow bitch, she shouldn’t make me feel this good. Everyone says she’s such a selfish ass… Damn, now I’m just thinking about her ass. God, it looks so good. I want to grope it – I want to spank it. I know I shouldn’t but…

Slowly, Marissa snaked her hands over Princess’s exposed ass and squeezed. The feel of Princess’s hot, plump cheeks bulging between her fingers sent a thrill up her spine.

‘Mmmh, that’s right, baby, grope my fat ass.’

Unable to resist, Marissa groped her harder. Her body hummed with erotic energy and despite herself she gradually succumbed to Princess’s slutty charms. The girl’s hair was in Marissa’s face and smelled of apples; her hot breath tickled her neck and her soft lips brushed over Marissa’s shadow of a beard. But by far the hottest sensation was the girl’s legs rubbing against her crotch and Marissa’s eyes rolled as pleasure cut through her groin.

Intoxicated by the power and pleasure of Greg’s body, she was struck by a sudden urge to play with herself. Before she could, however, Princess had beaten her to it.

‘You seem a little on edge, baby,’ Princess said, tugging down Marissa’s jeans. ‘Let me help you relax.’

With her boxers and jeans discarded, Marissa’s cock thrust up. She was so hard her pulse was visible – she didn’t think she had ever been this horny. As a woman she had been at her most sensitive at the peak of orgasm, but this was something else entirely. Even the slightest brush of air over her exposed head had her eyes rolling, and just the motion of her cock swinging free of her jeans was so intense she fluttered in and out of consciousness.

So when Princess dived in and hungrily swallowed Marissa’s cock, the transformed woman let out a howl of ecstasy.

Encouraged by Marissa’s guttural bellows of pleasure, Princess quickly developed a rapid pace, bobbing her head to take the cock hard and deep. Taking her man by the base of his shaft, she caressed his balls with agile fingers how she knew he liked it, but for Marissa the sensation of being jerked off paled into insignificance as Princess’s hot, wet maw tore her mind apart.

She could not formulate the words for what she was feeling. She had never imagined having a cock could make her so incredibly horny, but by now her hesitancy had entirely melted away and she was driven purely by the masculine urges of the man she had inhabited.

Deep down she knew what she was doing was wrong, but she no longer cared. She was hungry for Princess – for her mouth and her pussy and her ass – and she was determined to claim this bitch as her own.

Growling her pleasure as Princess continued to gorge herself, Marissa leaned over and grabbed the girl’s ass with one large hand. This time she squeezed until Princess’s ass cheek went white, laughing gruffly as the dumb bitch moaned around her cock. Then her hands went lower to pull aside Princess’s underwear and sink deep into her slick pussy.

At the same time, Marissa thrust up into Princess’s mouth. ‘Oh yeah, choke on my cock, bitch. Feel me fucking your brains out. God, your lips are so good.’

Pulling away, Princess giggled. ‘I know a set of lips that are even better.’

Again Princess moved with blinding speed. Surging onto her knees she wriggled free of her vest top before shedding her thong and bunching her skirt higher above her hips. As the girl slid herself up the man’s body to straddle his waist, Marissa removed Greg’s vest and lay naked beneath the naughty bitch. Stroking his cock as Princess positioned herself, he grinned up at her.

‘You’re such a dirty slut. I fucking love it.’

‘I know you do, baby, now fuck me good – I need a proper pounding.’

Without hesitation, Marissa slid into Princess’s dripping sex and they let out a united moan.

Marissa shuddered as she drove deeper into Princess’s pussy. The girl’s cunt was so hot and tight she felt like her cock was clenched in a burning vice, yet there was no pain, only pleasure. The agonising ecstasy blistered through Marissa’s body and she soon began to thrust up, plunging her huge meat deep into the girl’s insides.

Princess was seized by a delirious burst of laughter. Slutty giggles bubbled up through her moans as her body sang with desirous energy. ‘God, baby, you feel so good in my cunt. That’s it, fuck my naughty hole.’

With her hands on the girl’s ass, Marissa rocked Princess down onto her cock as she picked up a rhythm that soon twisted the shallow bitch into a horny banshee, her wails ringing through the house. Now Princess’s top was removed, her tits hung down before Marissa’s face and the mother-turned-jock repeatedly plunged her face into the girl’s cleavage, often locking her lips around a swaying nipple and savaging it like a wild beast attacking prey.

It didn’t take long before Marissa had fallen completely to the influence of her new skin. Greg’s body was charged with testosterone and lust, and after years in a sexless marriage the unfortunate woman never stood a chance of fighting it. Corrupted by the skinsuit’s power, she quickly reduced Princess to a horny mess and together they fucked the sheets into a tangle.

For the next hour Marissa flipped her slut from one position to the next and set about using Princess as her living fleshlight. The girl, of course, was eager to be used, urging Marissa to fuck her harder, faster, deeper. Before long Princess was leaking Marissa’s love from all three holes, but now Greg was no more than a skinsuit he had no need to recharge – his stamina was limited only by how long it took Marissa to tire, by which time Princess was dripping cum from every hole.

Eventually their passion ebbed and, exhausted, Princess lay sprawled on the sofa to one side of the room.

‘You’ve never fucked me that well, baby,’ she panted. Her cheeks were flushed and even though they had only just finished, the sight of her perfect body spread out on the sofa already had Marissa hard again.

‘Well, today hasn’t exactly been a normal day, I guess. I think I needed to let off a little steam.’ Turning away, Marissa crossed to the cupboard as a smile painted Princess’s lips.

‘Mmmh, well if that’s how you let off steam I’m happy to help you destress whenever you like. I can feel your load coating my insides and it’s making me so horny. I want another taste of it already.’

As she watched Greg, the girl’s smile faded, replaced by a frown. Her boyfriend was rummaging around in the cupboard, but were those women’s clothes he was searching through? Princess was sure he moved a bra aside as she watched and she caught a definite glimpse of some panties.

‘Uh, baby, what are you doing?’

‘This,’ he said, spinning around and levelling a compact gun at her. Marissa laughed, savouring Greg’s low voice in her throat. ‘You see, I’ve had a change of heart. Fucking as a guy feels incredible, but men are so easily manipulated: I couldn’t control myself once you started getting naughty, and if I’m going to continue Greg’s humiliation of that pathetic runt he enjoys tormenting so much I’m going to need to be in control at all times. I need to be the one all the men will bow down and worship. I need to be a naughty bitch. I need to be you.’

Princess went to scream, but before she could Marissa pulled the trigger and a blinding flash filled the room…

---

Locking up his office for the evening, Patrick was surprised to find his son’s girlfriend lounging on the leather bench just outside. She looked like a wet dream, clad in a sleek red latex dress that clung to her astonishing curves and she lay with her plump ass thrust out suggestively. She fixed him with an alluring gaze as he approached and the ghost of a smile played over her lips.

‘Hello, Mr. Monroe,’ she said.

Trying to conceal his arousal, Greg’s father fiddled awkwardly with his collar. ‘Princess? What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to discuss a business arrangement.’

‘Oh?’ Despite Patrick’s best efforts, his eyes would not be drawn from the girl’s glossy red ass.

Marissa smirked with Princess’s lips. He was hers already. She was still impressed with herself for having taken to being a slut so well, but then she supposed the trait had carried over from Princess just as Greg’s masculine urges had hit her hard when she donned his suit. After wearing both Greg and now Princess too, her loathing for her son was sealed and at the forefront of her mind was a desire to grind him into the dirt like the pathetic worm he was. And she was going to have fun doing it.

The latex only boosted her naughtiness. It felt like she was wearing a skinsuit over her skinsuit and she loved the way it rubbed against her skin, constantly reminding her she was in the body of the hottest bitch any man could hope to lay eyes on. The thrill of her revived youth and the combination of her own arousal and Princess’s natural horniness had her dripping wet, yet even hungry for sex she had the razor focus only a true slut could wield.

She wanted nothing more than to pounce on Patrick and extract all her pleasure from him, but she knew there was a better way to get what she wanted. To take him by force would make him an unwilling accomplice and leave his mind open to doubt; to take him by seduction, however, would make him a willing servant ready to obey her every whim without question.

‘I’ve realised I’ve been wasting my time on Greg,’ she said, pushing out her ass a little further and watching Patrick’s eyes light up. ‘He’s just a spoiled brat – there’s nothing he really has to offer me. But you, Mr. Monroe, you’re the real man. You’re the man with the money. I don’t want some dumb jock who’s eventually going to blow his chance with me by fucking some shallow bitch after too many drinks. No, I want a man who will really appreciate me. Someone who can afford to buy me everything I need. I want a devoted sugar daddy who understands how lucky he is to have access to a body like mine. I don’t suppose you know someone like that, do you Mr. Monroe?’

Marissa could already see Patrick’s cock starting to grow. He stuttered and stumbled over his words, trying to excuse himself, but his eyes never wavered from her ass. As he backed away, weak from her advances, she could tell his will to resist her was all but slain.

Rising to her knees she delivered the killing blow.

Lifting her dress she revealed her bare pussy, which twinkled with droplets of mouth-watering nectar. Yet even her perfect sex paled beside the hefty glass plug inserted in her ass. Her wet, pink insides were visible through the plug’s base, a forbidden treasure presented for him alone to admire.

One look was all it took. ‘Well, Miss Page, if you would kindly step into my office, I’m sure we could come to some mutually beneficial arrangement…’

---

Thanks for reading!

Okay, so I have some things to say about this piece and I feel they are especially important to non-creators.

The idea for this piece is not, in fact, my own. It was a request made by one of my readers which I agreed to write up because I liked the premise and thought it could be fun to explore, as well as the fact I often find myself wanting to write more bodysuit stories than I get the chance to produce.

They made this request through Miss Evie Hyde’s Discord server, which has become a hub of creators and one of the best places to interact with them. In the time since they made this request, however, we learned a lot about them and they have now had to be banned from the server twice. In that time they were caught plagiarising another creator’s work in an attempt to appeal to established creators, pestering people through private messages and through different server channels, and eventually trying to return to the server under a different name, a ruse which was quickly uncovered and dealt with via another ban. Furthermore, it also transpired that they had not just asked me to write this story, but had hit up almost every established creator on the server with the exact same request.

By the time this all came out, I had already written the story and found the images to go with it, so I was torn if I should post it or not. In the end I decided I would, mainly because I am happy with the end result, not because I feel any obligation to the one who originally requested it.

Despite the fact it really shouldn’t have to be said these events have made me feel I have to point something out: content creators ARE NOT at your beck and call. You wouldn’t contact every pornstar in the industry begging for a particular scene (and if you would, get your fucking head checked), so in the same way you should not ask the same of erotica writers. Reader requests are perfectly valid, but it is deeply demotivating to find out your work is not the reason a reader has made a request but that they are just desperate and needy and have therefore contacted everyone they can feasibly get in touch with.

In addition, content creators owe you nothing. If you have a request, great, by all means contact us, but DO NOT attempt to guilt trip, pester or otherwise irritate us into writing it. If you really appreciate our work, take a moment to understand how much time and effort goes into writing it and consider for more than a second that we are all human beings with our own lives and timetables to deal with, not just faceless avatars on the internet. Your request will be completed on our timetable, not yours.

And finally, for the love of God – DO NOT PLAGIARISE!! I cannot stress this enough, and it comes back to us being real people and putting effort into our work again, but plagiarism is an absolutely loathsome practice and is deeply disrespectful to the original creator. A lot of us place some kind of mark or style on our work to account for this, but not everyone. In the eyes of most creators, plagiarism is just about the lowest thing you can possibly do in our community, and there is absolutely no excuse for it. If you want to gain credibility and the respect of other creators, put the fucking work in. You don’t get to piggyback on someone else’s work and expect their praise. We will find out and we won’t be happy about it.

The sad thing is, these events are a perfect example of how the few can ruin it for the many. There is increased suspicion on the Discord server of new members now, and any mention of skinsuits has become almost a red flag that this individual has come up with another fake name to bug us with. I know it has put some of us off writing skinsuit stories, and though I don’t feel the need to stop writing about skinsuits particularly, I also have far less motivation to write about the subject than I had previously.

In the end the reader has not only reduced the likelihood of me putting out skinsuit stories but other creators too, which would be fine if they were the only one into those stories, but obviously they’re not. The actions of one person have now placed a distaste for skinsuits into the minds of many creators, meaning at least for the immediate future there will likely be less of that content out there than there would have been without their intervention. All for the sake of one story.

I hope it was worth it.

Anyway, rant over. I hope you enjoyed this piece. I’m back to my normal schedule for the forseeable future, so the next one will be out on Monday. Also if you haven’t recently, check out my Twitter. I’m not super active there at the minute due to work commitments, but I am slowly building a continuous series over there with what I’m calling Project Black Snow.

Thanks for reading!

I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!

Twitter: @Fetish_Fantasy_

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As with Lake Fantasy, I’ve decided that for any image galleries I use rather than provide links to every individual image, I will simply provide links to the galleries themselves, along with my imgbox gallery.

Imgbox gallery: https://imgbox.com/g/hpRj09Db0A

Image galleries: https://fuskator.com/thumbs/geOgRPA31xv/index.html

https://fuskator.com/thumbs/jYNECZFKy8W/Shaved-Brunette-Babe-Abella-Danger-Wearing-Red-Latex-Dress-Playing-With-Buttplug.html