FEStival Fiasco

FEStival Fiasco

Prologue

Jonathan Matthews snapped a quick picture in his bathroom figure, making sure to inspect every last inch of himself. Even after all his years in his rather sedimentary lifestyle as an office worker for an insurance company, he managed to remain rather toned and fit for his age. However, the one thing time took away from him was his curly and unruly hair. Gone were the days of him just splashing water on it and letting it style itself.

“Maybe baldness is in this year,” Jon muttered to himself as he ran a few fingers across his plain dome. With the Culture Fest coming up the following morning, he wanted to look his best for the cute college girls and their mothers that would stop by the stalls and attractions. “This is your year, Jon,” he said, punctuating each word with a poke at his reflection. “No lonely Saturday night for this strapping bachelor!”

Jon was so focused on this bold and bald speech that he failed to notice the insect-like creature hanging on the ceiling just above him. Only when the creature made its move did Jon become aware of his fate. Before he could even let out a scream, the creature dropped on his face and immediately crawled towards Jon’s wide-open mouth. “MMF! MMMM!” All Jon could do was let out muffled cries as the creature suddenly filled his mouth and then sliding down his throat.

Jon fell on his back, his body convulsing as he felt a foreign invader make its way through his body and into his head. He arched his back, letting out a long and agonized moan, before falling flat on the ground, eyes closed. After a spasm or two, Jon finally opened his eyes, glancing around the room as if to take in all the sights. Slowly, he got back on his feet but nearly lost his balance a few times. It was as if he was learning—or relearning—how to walk on only two legs.

Clearing his throat, Jon said, “Okay, class. I hope that demonstration was good enough for a warm-up.” At his words, half a dozen other creatures, looking to be of the same species but smaller and of different coloration, crawled out of cover and blind spots throughout the bathroom. Some even crawled on his body, as if to appreciate Jon’s body now under the control of another being.

“Hehe, you younglings feel nice in a body such as this,” the creature inside of Jon said with a small, vain flex. It took the creature a few moments before snapping back to attention. “N-Never mind that! You all understand the rules, I hope? During this human festival, you will be tested in all the various traits that our societies’ greatest soldiers, Dreadfighters, must embody: stealth, infiltration, fearlessness, and versatility. And though you do not need to be the leader of the pack to pass your exam, the highest-scoring member of our class will earn an invitation to our Emperor’s coronation. This is your best way to earn our liege's graces and truly stand out as a potential soldier for our species. Are you ready?”

The class all chirped and clicked to show their understanding. “Well, get to it!” The creature barked. “The pipes, the windows, the various entrances that have been scouted out—use them all to their advantage. Go, cadets, and good luck. And, Zathina? I’m expecting great things from you.” Though there was no response, Jon’s body smirked as the star pupil was clear in the lead as the class set off.

However, one of the creatures was already scheming ways for his talents to shine. Get ready, Zathina, the being named Centaurus thought to himself. This is the day you’re dethroned.

FEStival Fiasco

Part 1

He Who Stands Amongst the Worms

Centaurus, from the day he hatched, had an intimate connection with the idea of hunger. During his youth, rarely did a day go by where he didn’t struggle to sleep due to the hunger pangs in his belly. Food was always scarce, and thus always tasted good. Only the vilest and expired garbage had no place in his stomach. What came out of that lonely and wretched life was a person that thrived in the Nebula Academy—the place where his body could feast on another.

As Centaurus crawled through the vents, his stomach began to growl. Already it was aching from the scent of chemicals that the human brain swam in. However, grabbing any host was a sure sign to immediately fail. The goals were clear-cut and set:

    Minimum three human hosts    

    Must not attract unneeded attention that requires intervention from the professor. Failure to do so will result in an automatic failure    

    At least one transfer between hosts must be in a crowded area. Stealth is key

Searching for a lone host throughout these apartments was the optimal way to start, and Centaurus didn’t doubt that his classmates were thinking the exact same way. All of them, he soon noticed, except for a certain member of his class. Sneaking through the vents, Centaurus caught sight of a man convulsing on his bed, the tail end of one of Centaurus’ classmates, Mizar, slipping through his mouth. While Centaurus watch, he heard the sounds of the shower running in the other room. Clever, thought Centaurus. While it didn’t fit the conventional use of “crowded,” the fact that another human stood just a few feet away fulfilled the requirement. But not clever enough. Sorry, Mizar, but it was a good attempt.

Though Centaurus was uncertain if taking the person in the shower would really count as crowded for him as well due to one of their own already inhabiting it, the opportunity that lay before him was far too sweet to pass up. He crawled through the events and made his way over to the apartment’s bathroom. Steam filled up the entire room as the inhabitant washed his body. Muscular and large—how Centaurus liked them.

Slithering through the bathroom, making sure to remain out of sight, Centaurus made his way to where the showerhead was located. To his relief, the man remained oblivious; far too invested in his song to notice. Only when the man reached a particularly high note, mouth open in a wide O, did he finally see Centaurus pounce.

“HURP!” A quick groan was all the man was able to let out as Centaurus began crawling into his mouth. Limbs flailed as he fell to his knees, then back onto the ground as water sprayed all over his convulsing body. Centaurus slipped right in, slithered to the man’s brain, and sunk his fangs onto the fleshy organ.

So good! Centaurus thought as he drank in all of the various chemicals that ran through his new host’s brain. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, and endorphins all combined to form an intoxicating cocktail that always cured the hunger that plagued Centaurus’ daily life. But, he also knew that this wasn’t enough. The hunger would return, as it always did. It was a disease that plagued his mind just beneath the surface. Even on this mission, the one that would determine the rest of his future, his hunger remained a priority. Would it remain like this for the rest of his life? Would the scars that came from those early years follow him until his eventual death?

Forget about it, Centaurus told himself. Focus on what’s right ahead. The future remains on the horizon, so treat it like that. After a second to calm his nerves, he shifted and concentrated on the host’s nervous system.

In just a few moments, Centaurus saw out of the man’s eyes. Sensations welcomed him into this respite, and he welcomed them greatly. The way his body shifted as he stood on those unsteady, inefficient legs, the water that gently struck his chest and torso, and the smell of fresh soap coming from himself, was almost as addicting as the chemicals themselves. “I’m not just living, I am alive,” were the words Centaurus thought to himself as he took over his first host, and they remained true ever since.

Going through a quick skim of his host’s memories, Centaurus managed to gain his bearings on his situation. He was inside Ken Ackerman, and his lover Daniel McCree was taken over just a few feet away. If Mizar was inside of Ken, then that left Centaurus with a simple solution. He turned off the shower and quickly dried himself as much as he could. Then, throwing the towel on the floor, he strut out of the bathroom, dick already half-hard.

“Hey, Dan, how about throwing a small little culture festival of our own before heading out?” Centaurus called out as he emerged onto their shared bedroom. “Shower got me feeling hot and frisky.” He grinned as Mizar snapped his head up before quickly looking away. Was the mere sight of a naked man enough to make him flush?

“Oh, uh, a-are you sure about that, um… Ken?” said Mizar, pointedly staring down at the carpet. Even though he tried hiding it, as if ashamed, the erection was obvious.

Chuckling, Centaurus approached him with open arms, strutting the whole time. “Come, now! No need to be embarrassed. We’re men, we’re in love, nothing wrong with that!” He laughed, chest full of boisterous joy as he wrapped an arm around Mizar’s borrowed shoulders.

“Ah! Ah, I guess that’s true, um… yes, it is! We’re… in love...” Mizar said that word as though it was taboo before nodding to himself. His eyes seemed to finally gain a glint of confidence, Centaurus nodded. “Right! Well, uh, you start, then.” Ah, there it went. Now all that remained of Mizar was a timid wariness.

Is he serious? How’d he expect to pass if he’s this bad with connecting with his host and hiding amongst the crowd? Centaurus thought before spinning Mizar around and dragging him towards the bed. “Well, if you insist,” he said, “I don’t mind being the lead this time. But don’t corpse out on me, then.” Each word and lingo was so fun to say with his tongue. If he had a bit more time to himself, then Centaurus was ready to say every word in whatever book these humans used.

Mizar lied down on the bed as Centaurus spread his legs. “U-Um, wow, this feels so…”

“In-ti-mate?” Centaurus supplied, enjoying each slick movement of his tongue as he enunciated the word. “It always is, babe. C’mon, you’re not acting like yourself.” He grinned as Mizar immediately froze; his eyes betraying the panic that was happening inside. “Ha! Just messing with ya, babe! Now c’mon, let’s get started,” said Centaurus as he took out a bottle of lube from the nightstand next to the bed. “Promise I’ll be gentle, and treat ya just right...”

Mizar had always been the timid type. Even during the early days of studying, Centaurus identified him as a meek and weak individual. However, all of his previous assumptions were taken for a spin when Mizar won several combat and maneuverability competitions. Though difficult to connect with his host on the mental and emotional side, physically, very few students—such as Zathina—could compete with Mizar. “It must be the hormones,” he admitted to Centaurus during a private conversation. “I get so caught up in all these physical sensations and the chemicals involved in them, that I just sorta lost it, ehehe. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.”

And that was where Centaurus’ plan for overcoming Mizar’s talent lied.

“Oooo-OH FUCK!” Mizar cried out as Centaurus swallowed up his entire shaft. “Oh god, Ken, you—oh my god!” he said, arching his back and clutching the sheets at the sensation.

Luckily for Centaurus, Ken was truly experienced in this fine art. Making his partners beg for release in a cloud of ecstasy was Ken’s specialty. And for now, it was also a part of Centaurus’ skillset. He ran his tongue up and down before happily swallowing up the entire cock. Although he almost choked a few times, he managed to work Mizar into his first, intense orgasm.

“WH-WHAT THE FUUUUUCK! S-Something’s coming ouuuuut! AAAHHHHH!” Mizar screamed, confusion mixed in with the pleasure as he shot his load down Centaurus’ throat. “Oh god, oh my god,” said Mizar in between pants. He sat up on the bed, skin glistening with sweat, and said, “Can we do more?” with complete desperation.

Exactly as planned, Centaurus thought. “C’mon, baby, spread your legs. I got just what you need.”

Mizar did as told, nodding as Centaurus prepared himself. “Ohhhh, yes!” he moaned as Centaurus began with a lubed-up finger, then two, and finally most of his hand. “God, if this is what it feels, why aren’t we doing—NN, AAAH—all the time!” Mizar slammed his head onto the pillow, tongue hanging out as he arched his back again.

“Relax, relax,” said Centaurus, “lemme show you the main course,” he said as he slammed his cock into Mizar’s awaiting hole. To say that Mizar went over the moon would be an understatement. Had Centaurus not known about Mizar’s weakness for these physical sensations, he would’ve thought his classmate was having a seizure. Still, the neighbors might hear. To quiet Mizar down, Centaurus dove in and kissed Mizar. Their tongues played as Centaurus pounded Mizar. “God, you’re tight.”

Mizar only responded by gyrating his hips with a lewd smile.

Even though this was all part of Centaurus’ plan, he reasoned that there was no need for him to not enjoy himself. And, maybe when this was all over, he could invite Mizar for more sex with these humans. A vacation would follow the exams, and perhaps…

Centaurus’ thoughts were cut off as he let out a particularly loud moan and began to pick up speed. Their little game continued until, finally, Centaurus said, “I’m gonna cum…!

“Shoot, shoot it all inside of me!” begged Mizar. “Make me feel all full and warm!”

“I’M, I’M CUMMING!”

After what seemed like an hour of fucking, the two finally lied on the bed exhausted, sweaty, and satisfied.

“C’mon, another go,” whined Mizar.

Almost, satisfied.

Centaurus groaned. “Babe, c’mon… I’m exhausted. Let’s just relax and head down to the festival.”

“But...”

“I said no,” Centaurus snapped. He narrowed his eyes as he saw Mizar about to get up from the bed. “And y’know how serious I take monogamy, Dan,” he said, tone taking on a deadly edge. Mizar froze, and didn’t say anything. “You’re not planning on finding some dumb himbo and make him fuck you silly, are you? We promised we were the only ones for each other, remember?” Centaurus wasn’t exactly sure if that was true, but knowing that Mizar didn’t have the best capacity to draw from his host’s memories, that didn’t matter. “If you cheat on me, it’s over. Got it?”

“Got it!” Mizar responded, his arm twitching for a salute that was a habit of the creature, not the host.

“Good,” Centaurus said sweetly. “Now come here. Let’s have a nice nap...”

Mizar agreed, with some reluctance on his part. Centaurus smiled as the two of them lied back down on the bed with very little noise in the air. Somehow, in that post-orgasm silence, Centaurus drifted back and forth from sleep as he purposefully snored. Only when he heard a few moans and then the scuttling of an insect-like creature did Centaurus finally relax. Mizar’s not gonna have a high grade if he goes around begging to be fucked in different bodies, so that’s one of his classmates taken care of.

Swinging his legs off the bed, Centaurus stood up and stretched. He flexed his body to its limits, moaning each time. “God, being in a body always feels so good. Always feel alive with ‘em.” He quickly got dressed and made his way out of the room. One opponent down, four more to go. With any luck, he won’t have to deal with the worst of them until he had the area mapped out.

“Are you not ashamed of yourself?” Centaurus froze as a chill went down his spine. Although the voice was unfamiliar to him, the inflection and sheer viciousness behind it were not.

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Centaurus turned around and grinned at the devil that insisted on haunting him. Her host was a petite woman, but one that perfectly radiated the fearsome, ferocious aura that Zathina embodied. Every step, flick of her wrist, and word all belonged to the heir of the most elite of their species. Her kind was something to revere, fear, and steer clear of. No use being dirt on the clear and golden paths. Even just looking at her in an unfamiliar body, Centaurus felt an urge to bow and beg for forgiveness, but he held his ground.

“Well well, if it isn’t the princess of our class, Zathina herself!” he said, somehow managing to keep his tone jovial as his eyes skimmed through the hall, searching for an escape route. “Tell me, to what do I owe—“

“Shut up,” said Zathina, and the hall grew silent. It was as if the world itself bowed to the authority she was born into. Though her expression remained deadpan, Centaurus could feel the sheer disgust in her eyes. What Zathina felt at that moment, he was certain it wasn’t anger. It was truly as though she was looking at a cockroach that dared to be in her in presence and insult her sight through its existence. That was how the elite would look at those born in the dirt. “I heard, and witnessed, what you did to Mizar.” She narrowed her eyes, and Centaurus briefly looked away.

How pathetic, he thought, ashamed of himself.

“Is this how you get your sick kicks, worm?” said Zathina.

“Centaurus. I insist you call me by my name.”

“Your name is ‘worm’ as far as I’m concerned,” Zathina said and Centaurus remained silent. There was no room for debate with her. “Now then,” continued Zathina, “what do you have to say for yourself regarding your… unsavory tactics?”

Despite his fear, Centaurus still said, “It’s none of your business, is what I’d say.”

“Typical response,” said Zathina, rolling her eyes. As she ran her fingers down her new hair. Was she…? Before Centaurus could mull over it some more, Zathina spoke again. “It’s almost expected at this point. You’re becoming as boring as you are insufferable. But, I suppose you’re right. It is none of my business.”

“Then why—“

“Because it will be,” Zathina cut in, each of her words punctuated by an assertive step towards Centaurus. Instinctively, he backed away, nearly losing his footing at the tail end of his retreat. Just as he was about to regain his balance, Zathina shoved him with a lone flick of her wrist. With barely any effort on her end, Centaurus was down on the ground. Before he could even attempt to stand up, Zathina pressed her foot against his neck.

“No need for that,” said Zathina in a soft, gentle voice. “In fact, no need for any of your words, either. I don’t want to hear a single one of them.” As she spoke, she placed some of her weight onto her foot, and Centaurus gagged as oxygen became scarce. Zathina’s expression remained unchanging. “Now, worm, I hope my warning will remain with you for the rest of your life: Get in my way, and I will make you will suffer. This is my first and final warning. Blink once for ‘I understand,’ and struggle to die. Three, two...”

Centaurus blinked.

Zathina smiled. “I’m glad you understood,” she said as she slowly raised her leg. Centaurus took deep, labored breaths as he welcomed the rush of oxygen. He coughed and choked until Zathina brought her heel down onto his stomach.

“Hrrk! Hrrr…” Centaurus kept his mouth shut, only defiantly glaring at Zathina as she blinked in surprised.

“You didn’t scream. Impressive,” she said before stepping away from him. “You always seem to impress me in the most unexpected of ways, worm. Well, let’s make this the last time we see each other today. For your sake.”

“You...”

Zathina stomped on the floor, and Centaurus flinched. “Good. It seems I’ve trained you well,” she said, smirking with pure satisfaction. “Well, so long.” With a small and curt wave, Zathina walked away. Not even once did she turn back to see if Centaurus stood up and chased after her or not. To her, there was most likely no need.

“F-Fuck you,” Centaurus muttered, quiet enough that she wouldn’t hear. Zathina, as long as I live, I won’t let you win. I swear it.

Spring Cleaning

Spring Break had arrived for college students all over the nation, and Caleb was ready to make the most of it. He awoke that Saturday bright and early to get a headstart on cleaning the apartment he shared with his friend, William. Once he finished tidying up and dusting his room, he walked out with the intent to continue, but quickly stopped in his tracks. William, clad in just his undies, was sleeping peacefully on the couch. A half a dozen cans of beer lay scattered around the living room floor.

Though Caleb’s first instinct was to shout at William to clean up his mess, he stopped himself and reconsidered. Not only was it William’s right to indulge from time to time—god knows the two of them seriously needed to after the stress of this semester—but Caleb also didn’t feel like dealing with a hungover William as he tried to clean their living space. The third and final reason was Caleb hungrily eyeing just about every curve and crease of William’s half-naked body as he serenely snored the day away. It had been so long since William paraded around the place like this. Ever since an instance where he had taken notice of Caleb staring for just a second too long, William had always hung around with at least a shirt and shorts on; nothing less.

“Wish you’d trust me a bit more,” whispered Caleb before biting his lower lip. His shorts had already begun to tent. “But maybe you made the right call.” The seconds turned into minutes, and Caleb’s resistance was slowly waning away. Thoughts continued to race in his mind, and before he realized it, he was standing over his friend’s sleeping body. My power… he thought to himself.

One of the benefits of having an amateur father as a warlock was the various rituals that didn’t work out. During Caleb’s high school days, his father had tried a specific ritual that rebounded and struck Caleb instead. The end result was the ability to “melt” his body down into some kind slime—sadly, not of the metal or king variety—and slither into people’s bodies in order to take them over. The first of Caleb’s rides and experiments with his new abilities was his own father, but that was a story for another day.

Right now, all that he could focus on was the hunk that now lied before him. Without a second thought, Caleb stripped off his clothes and tossed them to the floor. He positioned himself on the couch so that he was right on top of William and his erect dick was close to his mouth. Thankfully, William was a heavy sleeper, so he didn’t immediately wake up when Caleb thrust his dick into his open mouth. Only when slime began to slither down his throat did William finally wake up. “Too late!” grinned Caleb as he continued to melt into translucent, invading goo to his roommate’s horror.

William let out a muffled cry of terror. He tried to grasp at the goo, but couldn’t get a firm grip on the slippery, boneless form. Even calling for help didn’t work, as his mouth was still too full to make any kinda yell. All he could do was writhe and convulse on the couch as this invader continued its conquest.

Internally snickering, Caleb commanded his slime body to fill up and infect the cells and tissue in William’s body. As time went on, William’s limbs felt warm as they fell under his control. He curled and uncurled his firm fingers; flexed his new biceps; and stretched his thick, powerful legs. The warm sensation contrasted with how cold and numb William felt.

As soon as the slime finished entering William’s mouth and sliding down his throat with a wet slosh, he began to moan. “Ahhh, oohhh, get the hell ouuut!” he said with low energy. Every part of him refused to listen, and he couldn’t even feel the way his hands were touching his chest and crotch. “H-Help, someone, ahh—AHHHH!” Caleb’s slime slithered towards his brain, wrapping itself around it and forcing William into unconsciousness. “NO! NO! Get out get out AAAHHH!” William shouted as his whole body convulsed and he finally fainted.

Soon enough, his body finally grew still. When he opened his eyes, there was a new, devious glint. “Oh, thanks, Will,” said Caleb as he massaged his new pecs. “This’ll be such a nice body to do some spring cleaning with. And, a nice way to enjoy the break, too.”

Whoops

You can send asks anonymously now. Didn’t realize I had that feature turned off.

Keepin’ it in the Family

Manfred—Freddy for short—was a young man that spent his life in the shadow of his uncle’s side of the family. Meek, shy, unassuming, and more of an indoors type. “I’m more of a type B kind of fellow,” he would answer whenever someone asked him what kind of person he was. Meanwhile, Daniel Crawford and his son, Alex, were the exact opposite. Tall, strong, and always willing to get down and sweaty in an activity. They often dominated every family gathering and gleefully hogged the spotlight shined on them.

“Did you know Alex got a football scholarship… Daniel bought a second house… oh my gawd, li’l Danny got so buff last year, can’t believe he used to be my younger bro…!” On and on Freddy would hear until he got sick of it.

“Why dontcha join a team or somethin’, squirt?” his cousin Alex teased him while roughly messing up his hair. Although Freddy couldn’t deny his cousin was annoying and far too energetic, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. There was always an authenticity behind his invites to play football with his friends. He was brutish but kind. That was all.

Freddy’s uncle Daniel was a different story.

On a certain day during a family gathering, Daniel concerned Freddy in a hallway. “Perhaps if you applied yourself more," he once told Freddy, the disdain clear in his voice, "you'd get as far as my boy does in life." The rest of the family was just a few rooms away, but their cheerful voices were worlds away. “But until you do that, I want you to stop spending any time with Alex. Honestly don’t know why he wastes his precious youth on someone like you.”

Freddy didn't respond but nodded while glaring defiantly at the floor. He jumped back as his uncle grabbed him by the throat and forcefully tilted his head upwards. Freddy let out a sharp hiss of pain but prevented himself from screaming.

With a low voice, his uncle Daniel said, “Look at me while I’m speaking, you little shit. Don’t want your mediocrity holding my golden son back. Stay away from him or else.” He punctuated his last words by shoving Freddy to the wall. “Can’t believe you and your father are related to us. Well, guess we know who got the better genes in the family.”

Freddy glared at him as he walked away. It was painful, but he could endure. As long as he lived, he would not let this abuse break him. The day would come when he would prove him wrong.

However, it all came to a head about a week ago, when Freddy announced his plans for a graduation party. Most of the replies in the texts he sent out for his family were some variation of, “Oh, I’m sorry Freddy, but your uncle Danny is planning to celebrate his promotion at work that day. Perhaps you can reschedule.” As always, Freddy remained overshadowed.

“Bastards,” Freddy’s father, a rotund and balding man by the name of Benny, exclaimed as he saw the texts. “Can’t even spare a day for you. It’s always those two pricks.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Freddy muttered, glaring down at the texts on his phone. How often had his family ignored him in favor of those two? How often did his uncle mistreat him to guarantee that his ‘golden child’ Alex would remain as successful as he was? The questions kept echoing in his mind until, finally, he decided to cut this cycle.

“If you want,” his father tried again, “we can spend that weekend just the two of us, son. We can travel and celebrate our way."

“It’s all right, dad. I know exactly what I’m gonna do,” said Freddy as he marched off to his room. He would have to draw up the runes and memorize the incantations before long. By being efficient, he would have the spell all set by dawn’s early light.

However, his father stopped him by placing a firm hand on his shoulder—a rarity. “Hold on son," Benny said in a tender voice. "I understand what you're going through, believe me, I know. I was never the golden child of the family either. Danny made sure of that." There was disdain in Benny's voice that Freddy had never heard from before, but he had little time to dwell on it as his father continued. "But, to me, you'll always be the golden child, Freddy. I just want you to know that." Then, Benny pulled his son in for a hug.

Freddy eagerly returned in, shoving his thoughts of revenge to the back of his mind for the moment. Now, he just wanted to spend time with his father. Dusk came and went, and the two bid each other good night as they settled into their rooms on different floors. With nothing to interrupt Freddy, he set off to work.

It began when he found a book of occult rituals and spells in his father's study. Never had Benny spoken about this to Freddy, and Freddy lacked the courage to confront his father about it. Instead, he took photos of the various pages of spells and tried them out for himself—another reason why he did not want his father to know that he knew. By doing this magic in secret, Freddy could indulge in his fantasies that were now just a spell away. Coaches, classmates, and neighbors all fell to his charms and rituals; fulfilling deviant actions according to his whims.

My father can never know, Freddy thought bitterly to himself as he drew the sigils on his rug with chalk, he’ll never know so he’ll always be proud of me, his pure and hard-working son.

Tonight would be the first time Freddy would attempt the possession spell as well as the first time he broke a rule he had set for himself when he first began to use magic: never involve a family member. Now, he read through the procedure on his phone and prepared to sink into an even deeper level of deviancy. A bit of the text at the bottom of the page was faded, but the instructions were all written out. It’s most likely flavor text, Freddy thought.

This spell would allow the invoker to project his soul towards an unassuming target. From then on, a battle of wills would begin, and the dominant soul would take over the body. The invoker is not guaranteed to be successful. Caution must be exercised, and a strong will is heavily recommended.

It was a frightening thought, but Freddy did not allow that to slow him down. His hands trembled with excitement and his heart raced with pure adrenaline as he pictured his uncle’s sexy yet punchable face.

In the heat of the moment, Freddy cast the spell alongside the rising sun. Once those accursed words left his lips, a sharp and painful sensation spread throughout his body. It was as if his soul was being stretched and twisted, like a rubber band. However, he just gritted his teeth and endured it as he always did. The suffering of a spell or his uncle’s harassment was all the same—nothing he couldn’t handle. However, when the pain continued to grow in magnitude, Freddy was afraid this spell was going to rip his soul in half.

Then came the release—the catharsis. The spell catapulted Freddy’s soul at a speed rivaling that of a bullet train’s. Freddy screamed both in terror and sheer jubilation as his soul traveled through the dawn-dyed sky. Everything, even the sun, was a blurry mess until he arrived at his uncle’s expensive house, where he finally stopped. He was back in control.

Slowly, Freddy glided through the halls of a home that alienated him for most of his life. While searching for his uncle’s room, he stumbled upon his cousin Alex sleeping on top of the covers, clad in just a pair of boxer briefs. Though Freddy intended to keep moving, he remained still and watched his cousin’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept peacefully.

“You deserve a better father,” Freddy whispered, caressing his cousin’s cheek with his ghostly hand. His voice and touch were nothing more than a chilly breeze on Alex’s bare skin. When Freddy noticed the goosebumps that spread down his cousin’s arms, he drew back and excused himself from the room. His target still needed to be punished.

A few hallways later, Freddy found himself floating above his uncle. Daniel, just like his son, slept above his covers and nearly in the nude to deal with the brutal summer heat. Even so, beads of sweat still glistened in his half-naked, furry body. His breathing was just as peaceful and gentle as Alex's as it passed through his heart-shaped lips. "If only you were as kind as you look while sleeping," Freddy said as he glared down at Daniel. Hatred and lust pushed him forward, and he gleefully enacted his plan.

Having spent quite a long time manipulating the wills of men, Freddy knew that the best way to overwhelm them was to do so post-coitus. “You’ll be my ticket to happiness,” he whispered to his uncle, “you piece of shit asshole.” He began by running his tongue down his uncle’s bare chest, giving the nipple a lick.

The effect was immediate. Daniel’s eyes shot open as he shivered at the paranormal touch. He looked around, perplexed. “What the fuck?” he said.

Freddy snickered at his uncle’s confusion. He pushed his uncle back onto the bed, one hand twirling and playing with his nipples while another teased the bulge hidden by the briefs. “W-Woah, oh shit!” said Daniel, trying to kick his invisible assaulter away to no avail. When the sensation didn’t stop, Daniel attempted to rise only for Freddy to roughly shove him back onto the bed again.

“I’m not done with you!” Freddy roared to his uncle’s terror. The rush of power was intoxicating, and Freddy greedily drank in every pathetic whimper and moan from his uncle. He pulled his underwear off, revealing his uncle’s large hard-on, and threw it to the side. “God, you’re thick,” Freddy moaned as he took his uncle’s cock in his hand. “C’mon, cum for me, old man,” he said as his lips played with the pecs. He continued to mercilessly play with his uncle, humping his body to elicit more of his moans.

“N-No—aahh, mmm! Pl-Please stoooAAAAHH—stop!” said Daniel as he felt his core tighten. Freddy noticed it too and quickly released his uncle from his sexual grasp. “AH! Oh fuck, I’m—ngh!” said Daniel as his abused dick begged for release.

“Not yet, that's gonna be my climax, uncle," Freddy said. To reward his uncle was far more than what the bastard deserved. Instead, Freddy would steal his climax, his body, and his dignity. “You’re mine!” he said, caution be damned as he dove into his uncle’s body.

“F-Fred—OOF!” The sheer force of Freddy’s dive caused his uncle to bounce on the mattress. “Oh FUCK!” Daniel cried out as he felt impossibly full. Two souls occupied the same space, and much like the shifting plates of the ever-changing earth, stress was born of this conflict. Daniel gritted his teeth, even more sweat coating his convulsing body as he attempted to hold onto his consciousness. However, Freddy’s essence continued to spread.

The possession spell operated on a similar concept as ink falling upon a cup of pure water. Slowly, the water would darken as it took on the shade of the ink until it was almost completely indistinguishable from the original ink that tinted—or tainted—it.

Just as the ink colored the water, so too did Freddy’s soul spill and tint his uncle’s very essence—mind, body, and spirit. Daniel, of course, continued to push his nephew’s soul out of him. He kicked at his bed and gripped his sheets so tightly his veins were visible in his arms. Until the very last second, he tried to will his body back under his control. However, he eventually collapsed onto his bed, eyes rolling into the back of his head, and blacked out. His body convulsed for a few more minutes as it took on the last remains of Freddy's essence, before finally quieting down.

Freddy opened his new eyes and immediately put his attention back on his uncle's dick. "Oh god, uncle, you're so sensitive!" he said as he continued stroking himself. “I-I’m CUMMING!” he bellowed as he shot load after load in his new form, seeing white as he fell back onto the sweat-covered sheets. “Oh my god, Danny-boy, I can’t wait to wreck you today.” Freddy would seize the day, and by nightfall, he would make his uncle a shame upon his family.

A few hallways away, Alex had his own visitor.

“S-Stop, uncle!” Alex screamed as the much larger soul of Benny finished entering his younger body. “Y-You can’t—AH! AAAHHH!” He whimpered and moaned just as his father did before collapsing into a mess of convulsing limbs.

Alex blacked out, and his uncle Benny awoke. “God, that felt good,” he said, stretching his new, muscular body. It was pleasurably sore after the workout he gave his unwilling nephew. “Ya got a good lookin’ bod, kid,” he said, grinning as he rubbed his hands down his new form. “But it’s my turn to be the golden child, if only for a day,” he finished, excited to have his hole filled in a day filled with debauchery.

Unbeknownst to father and son, there was more to the spell lost as the ink faded from the page. It read as follows:

Just as the water becomes nearly inseparable from the ink, the souls also become unable to be torn apart. There is no hope for the water to become pure and no hope for the ink to be whole. They are bound together for eternity, as are the souls tainted by the invoker. The invoker’s body will perish upon the spell’s completion, and the invoker will remain in their new body until the possession spell is used again, thus killing the old target.

Blood is Thicker than Water 2

After taking over the older man’s body, the alien found himself leaning back on his chair and enjoying just the simple pleasures of the possession. “Harold, Harry for short,” he said to himself, chuckling. “Ahhh, sorry son, but this body is just too nice to pass up on. Maybe when you’ll older you can be a nice husk for me to use and abuse.”

His son simply looked straight ahead, completely emotionless. After several days of just being a host for the alien now known as “Harold,” his mind was having a hard time awakening. A few hours later, and he’ll be back to normal, though confused on why his ass felt so stretched out. However, for the time being, he was in a state of “until further instruction.” While at first, the possessed Harold had planned to use his son for a test drive of his new assets, he reconsidered.

Perhaps the son or the experience of transferring hosts had altered something in the chemicals of the alien's brain, but he suddenly found himself searching for a partner far richer, similar to Harold himself. Eager to work, Harold searched through his host’s contact list and memory banks to find not just a suitable Saturday night encounter, but also an alternative host to take over once he was bored with Harold.

He had no purpose in life, so he decided to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. One man from Harold’s workplace stood out in particular: Peter Koche. A serious man that, on occasion, would steal glances at Harold when he believed no one saw. Unfortunately for him, Harold did notice, and now the slime creature inside of him would take the opportunity that the normal Harold would be disgusted by.

With one hand in his underwear and absentmindedly playing with his impressive new package, Harold sent Peter an email asking for a moment of his time to go out and get some drinks. Surprisingly, Peter responded soon afterward with a polite acceptance. “Yes!” Harold cried out, commanding his yet-to-be-awake son to high-five him.

Later that night, after a few rounds of drinking and playful flirting, Harold found himself in Peter’s apartment.

“It’s a decent place,” said Peter, walking around the place with his hands in his slacks’ pockets, fidgeting with the fabric. “Little lonely, though. Such a big apartment for a guy like me.” He avoided Harold’s as he spoke. Was the tint of red that colored his cheeks from the drinks or something else?

Harold simply smiled. “Y’know I have a son,” he said as he took a seat on the sofa. He gestured for Peter to do the same.

Obliging his guest’s request, Peter took a seat on the end of the couch. as far from Harold as he could be. “I know,” he said, trying to save face. “I was just saying! No need to jump to assumptions like that. Or are you looking to piss me off?”

Harold shook his head. “Looks like you’re doing well enough at that on your own.” He laughed at Peter’s sheepish huff. “We’re adults, Peter. Friends, even. If you want to tell me something, just be straight with me.” Never dropping the smile, Harold leaned in. He caressed Peter from his chest down to his stomach.

“Or, you’d rather be something else?” he whispered into Peter’s ear.

“Ha-Harold! I...”

“Yes…?”

“I never expected you to be so forward...” Peter said, his hot breath causing excited goosebumps to trail down Harold’s arms. “A-Are you sure about this? What about Casey, your son?”

“Oh don’t worry about Casey,” said Harold as he reached forward to undo the first of Peter’s buttons. “He’ll understand. I’ll make sure of it.” He licked his lips as he saw the trail from Peter’s chest down to his stomach. “Found a treasure chest,” he said, twerking Peter’s nipple with his fingers. “All to myself, too.” With those words and a sensual moan from Peter, Harold threw himself for a sweet loving.

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“Oh fuck, oh fuck, OHHH!” Peter cried out as he came. The warm sensation of his own semen splattered all over his stomach only made him harder.

“A-Almost, almost—NGH! I’m cumming…!” Harold grunted. Peter moaned as he felt a torrent of cum flood his insides. He felt warm and full, like he just had a wonderful snacc. Before he could say anything, Harold let out a loud moan and collapsed on top of him, pinning Peter to the ground. “Ha-Harold—WOAH!” Peter cringed as he felt something warm surge into his body. “Harold, Harold—lemme go, aaahhh!”

He writhed on the couch, cock rubbing against Harold’s stomach as another creature invaded his body.

Not too long afterward, Peter was looking at himself in the mirror with a completely different demeanor. “Not bad,” said Peter, flexing. “Body feels adequate, and it’s nicely aged and taken care of, too. He’ll be a good host and plaything when I’m feeling bored.” He glanced back at Harold, who still sat on the couch, eyes completely blank. “Let’s have some fun, human.”