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This one of the stories I thought I'd lost when my disk crashed a few months back. I'd just finished it the night before the crash, which was very annoying. As it turned out, I had a printed copy about two versions earlier that was marked up and I also found several fragments as I picked through what I could on the disk. So the story that follows is not exactly the story it would have been had I posted it those few months back. If nothing else it's longer. The usual disclaimers apply. The story may be posted at those sites providing free access to those stories it stores, provided that the verbiage is unchanged. Findeth a Good Thing By Bill Hart "Sourdough muffins," said Ron Tompkins. His smile widened as he watched the predefined changes settle over his wife once again. "What's the matter lover?" cooed Sara as she began nibbling on her husband's ear. "There's absolutely nothing wrong, Sally dear," he replied. "Why do you ask? It's just that you must be the best damn fuck I've had in the last several weeks." Sara smiled back at her husband playfully. "I'll bet you say that to every single one of your other girls. I mean, you've told me that every day since we met, lover." She eagerly kissed his lips. "And everything should continue being fantastic between us - as long as that frigid little bitch of a wife of yours doesn't find out about us." "She'll never find out about us, Sally dear." Of course, Ron knew the full truth of their current situation, even if Sally didn't - Sally and Sara were simply two distinct aspects of the same person. "Sara doesn't even suspect a thing; she has no clue that you even exist." "That's good news," she smiled sexily. "Now come here to me, lover." Sally pulled Sara's husband closer to her. "Now that we're alone, how about showing your best girl a fucking good time, lover boy?" *** Ron was once again amazed when Sara woke up the following morning. Although it wasn't the first time - and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last time - he and Sally had spent the night in bed together; Ron was still awed seeing the totality of the changes in Sara's demeanor brought on by the light of a new day. As she'd done each and every morning for the last three weeks, Sara awoke lying alone in her own bed. Ron knew his wife would have been shocked finding her husband lying in her bed next to her so soon. He knew, just as she would know and remind him, that last night wasn't the night of the week when she might have allowed him to bed her. Intellectually, Ron knew Sara wasn't purposely being cold towards him. Well, not exactly cold. She just didn't like having sex; some women were just that way. He'd always believed something terrible had happened to her long before they'd met, but, whatever it might have been, she'd steadfastly refused to open up and talk about it. Ron loved Sara; he always had and probably always would. But he had always seemed to need more of her attention than she was ever prepared to give him in return. But in spite of his love for her, if he hadn't discovered Sally lurking in her mind those few short weeks earlier, he would have probably been entertaining serious thoughts of divorcing his attractive brunette wife. However, he could no longer seriously consider giving up Sally - or Sara, for that matter - now. After all, Sara was Sally, at least sort of, and Sally was Sara, more or less. A simple triggering phrase whispered into the ear of his pretty, but generally sexually repressed wife turned Sara into the saucy wench Sally, who had such a voracious sexual appetite that she'd do anything he asked of her in their bed. And this morning, Sara had once again become simply Sara. She had no real choices in that matter either. As a fail-safe, he'd made waking up as Sara an integral part of those post-hypnotic suggestions he'd given her. As far as Sara would recall, she'd been exhausted when she'd returned home from a long and taxing day at work. She'd gone to bed early... and, as she usually did, quite alone. She knew nothing whatsoever about her sensual alter ego Sally, just as the saucy Sally she became knew only that Sara was the cold-hearted wife of her lover. Who could have possibly dreamed what he'd done was at all possible? Ron barely believed what he'd done. When he'd been a Psych major during his early days at the university, he'd fooled around a little with hypnosis, but he'd never attempted anything so daring before. Knowing hypnosis had got him invited to frat parties; no one ever seemed to tire of seeing their friends clucking like chickens or barking like dogs. But other then the parties, he hadn't done much else with it once he'd changed his major; listening to other people's problems day in and day out was something he'd decided he never wanted to do. And yet, who would have even considered using hypnosis to find buried, under his wife's prim and proper cool persona, such an insatiable and tawny sex kitten? But on the other hand, Ron knew what he'd accomplished shouldn't have been possible at all. Turning cold Sara into hot Sally violated just about everything he'd ever been taught about hypnosis. Making an entranced subject like Sara do anything contrary to their true nature was supposedly impossible. He wondered if he had accidentally come across whatever Sara's mind had repressed. Something he couldn't adequately explain was definitely different about them. Sara had never been all that interested in having sex with anyone. And Sally was one hell of an insatiable sexual dynamo. And yet, by everything he thought he knew about his wife, Sara would - in fact, could - never act in any of the wanton ways Sally did. But that was what he'd thought about it until three weeks ago. Since then, his thoughts on the subject of influencing Sara's behavior had significantly altered. He still had no idea what had possessed him to put Sara under in the first place - it had been one of those spur of the moment things - but finding that rational explanation for what he'd done no longer seemed overly important. Who would have ever guessed that such a seething and volcanic sexual persona had been lurking just beneath his wife's cool outward consciousness? It was almost as if Sally had been waiting for him to come along and set her free. And that had simply been what he'd done. But Sally was in no real sense Sara. They might share the same body, but they acted as if they were two totally separate beings. There would never be any chance one of them could be mistaken for the other. However, even as great in the sack as Sally was, Ron still wondered if there might be other, even hotter and more sensual, personalities lurking even deeper in Sara's mind. He knew he should be satisfied with what he'd found in Sally, but his curiosity had been aroused and something - his curiosity most likely - kept encouraging him to look even deeper. There were already two distinct personalities inhabiting his young wife's mind and body; finding yet another was certainly within the realms of possibility. And a third persona would most likely come from even deeper in Sara's subconscious. It would undoubtedly possess and channel even more raw sexual energies than Sally. Although this wasn't a new thought for Ron, it was nevertheless an intriguing one. He'd been thinking about doing this for weeks. Why not just try it and find out once and for all? Just as it had all those times before, something in the back of his mind warned Ron he should leave well enough alone. But each time he'd thought about it his curiosity about it had rapidly reasserted itself. And now, he could no longer suppress that question for which his mind kept demanding an answer. Ron had never in his life been an overly inquisitive person, but that didn't prevent him from wanting to determine whether he was right or wrong. And while he was following his path of discovery, if he happened upon a more playful and energetic sex partner, then so much the better. *** After a quiet dinner, Ron approached his wife from behind and casually slid his arms around her slim waist. Moments later, he began nibbling playfully on her neck. "What do you think you're doing?" asked Sara, sounding annoyed. "You must know it isn't that night again so soon, Ron." "Of course I know that, dear. But you're so incredibly beautiful tonight. I was hoping you might make one of your rare exceptions." "Whatever for? This isn't even a special day. And you know we just had sex last week." Ron smiled cryptically at Sara's words; they changed little from one day to the next. He knew full well that he and his wife's body - even if she were not always herself mentally - had had intense sexual relations every night for the past three weeks. "Are you absolutely sure, dear?" "Of course I'm absolutely sure," she snapped back quickly. "Although I am a little surprised you would have to ask. You'll just have to wait for our night of doing that to come around again." "I guess you're right." For Sara's sake, Ron sounded disappointed. "I suppose I should have known better." "You certainly should have." "Sara?" "Yes, dear." "Sourdough bread." Sara's eyes quickly glazed over. Standing entranced before Ron, Sara waited for whatever instructions he might give her. Ron could almost imagine Sally screaming at him to let her come out to play again. Instead of using the trigger phrase that set Sally free for a night of incredibly lustful passions, he'd used the first trigger phrase he'd implanted within Sara's receptive mind. It was the one that only put her into a deep hypnotic trance. "Can you hear me, Sara?" "Yes," came her wooden reply. "What is your name?" "Sara Tompkins." "Can you sense another presence within your mind, Sara?" "Yes." Ron knew exactly where his line of questioning was leading her; he'd first taken Sara down this path three weeks ago. "I want you to reach out to that presence you sense, Sara. I want you to touch it and then embrace it. I want you to allow it to take over your mind and body. Do you understand?" "Yes," she replied, as her posture shifted ever so slightly. Ron also noted the expected slight changes of inflection in her voice. "What is your name?" he asked her, although he already knew what she would answer. "Sally Tomlins." Her voice had once more noticeably changed timbres from the softness of Sara's to the sauciness of Sally's. If anything, she now sounded even sexier than ever before. Oddly, she was restless. If such a thing had been possible, it almost seemed as if she were trying to break out of her trance. But this next step he had envisioned made Ron somewhat more nervous. He'd already been as deep as her Sally persona before, but now he was about to embark into uncharted virgin territory. Ron smiled at the unwitting and horribly poor pun his mind had made. "Can you sense another presence within your mind, Sally?" "Yes." So far, so good, thought Ron. "Is this presence you sense above or below your current thoughts?" "Both." Ron grinned; he'd been right. The presence Sally sensed above her consciousness was very obviously Sara. And just as obviously - as he'd been hoping - there was another persona lurking below Sally's consciousness. "I want you to reach out to that presence you sense beneath your thoughts, Sally. I want you to touch it and embrace it. I want you to allow it to take over your mind and body. Do you understand, Sally?" "Yes." Sally's stance shifted noticeably. She now stood before him in a far more sensual and seductive pose than any other stance he'd ever seen from her before. "What is your name?" he asked anxiously. "Selena Tarkov." Her voice had deepened; it simply oozed sex. Just the sound of her voice in his ears made Ron's manhood swiftly stiffen. He no longer had any reservations or lingering doubts about the correctness of his actions. All Ron knew with any great certainty at that moment was he needed to possess Selena. Consequently, he decided on programming Selena's mind into coming forth and controlling Sara's body whenever he wanted her with him. It should be a simple enough task. He'd already had highly successful results bringing Sally out; he certainly expected no problems repeating the same procedure with Selena. Selena? What a beautiful name Selena was. Just thinking her name excited him beyond what he thought possible. Besides, what could conceivably be better than having two incredibly sexy women like Sally and Selena at his beck and call? And even better for all concerned, since both of them were in reality also his lawful wife, it wouldn't be as if he were actually cheating on Sara with either of them. "When I count to three, you will awaken relaxed and refreshed as the lovely Selena Tarkov. Whenever you hear me, and me alone, speak the phrase 'sourdough biscuits' your mental processes will toggle between the two distinct personas of Sara Tompkins and Selena Tarkov. Other than you having the knowledge that Sara is my wife, neither of you will have any knowledge of the other. Whenever you awaken after falling asleep as Selena Tarkov, you will always awaken as Sara Tompkins retaining no memories of any of what transpired while you were Selena. Do you understand, Selena?" "Yes, of course, I understand," she smiled. But it was a small smile that went unheeded by Ron, who was lost in other thoughts. "One..." "Two..." "Three..." "Wake up, Selena." Selena's eyes slowly opened. Ron liked what he saw in them; Selena's eyes were unmistakably fully inflamed with lust. "Selena..." started Ron "Hush. Don't speak another word, Ron." Selena placed two of her soft fingers across his lips for a fleeting instant. Her simple touch aroused his rising passions still further. "I want you, lover boy," she whispered in his ear. "I want you right here and right now." With a practiced ease Ron had never seen before, Selena slid her hands across her breasts and then down to her slim waist. Even if Ron knew nothing, she knew she had him hooked; all she really needed to do now was reel him in. "At this moment, I want you in me more than I've ever wanted another man inside me before." And then with an exciting, yet totally unexpected aggressive roughness, Selena kissed his lips before eagerly pulling him in the direction of the empty waiting bed. Along the way, she casually stripped him of his clothes. And then she wantonly ripped her own attire from her flesh. Selena sprawled out sensuously on their bed; her legs were spread wide in an open invitation. "Hurry. Please hurry, lover. I want you to take me immediately, if not sooner," she told him in lustful breathy tones. "Now take me quickly; I want no further delays from you." Ron was already so hot to possess her that he needed no further encouragement. He was as hard as a rock and needed no additional foreplay. Selena's voice alone had been nearly all the stimulation he'd needed. Ron eagerly kissed Selena's suddenly passive lips. His every thought centered on Selena; she was incredible and nothing else mattered to him. And then somehow knowing without any doubt that Selena was now as ready for him as he was for her, Ron slowly lowered himself onto her firm, but yielding, body. He wanted her; he had to have her. But at that very moment when his engorged penis began its initial penetration of her waiting moist vagina, blackness swiftly and completely claimed the unsuspecting Ron Tompkins. *** After the passage of several hours, Ron finally awoke. Oddly, he was alone in Sara's bed. He wondered what he was doing there; the last thing he clearly remembered was making love with Selena. And yet, Sara's bed was normally off limits to him in the morning, unless the night before had been that night. She'd be royally pissed just finding him in her room. But even worse than that was thinking about what she might say or do if she found him lying in her bed. But as he rose from his wife's bed and stood to leave, he felt strangely peculiar - an odd, sort of, off balance feeling that neither made much sense nor was explainable. And when and how had his hair grown long enough to reach his shoulders? When Ron passed his wife's full-length mirror, he inadvertently looked into it. As soon as he saw the puzzled reflection looking back at him, he began screaming. And he didn't stop wailing until, quite impossibly, he witnessed himself entering the room. "What's wrong, lover?" asked the man who looked just like him - and somehow sounded just like him as well - with a widening grin. "What did you do to me?" asked Ron in a soft voice that, simply recognizing it had come from his own throat, made him cringe. "Isn't it obvious, Ron?" replied the man with his face. "You had no knowledge or power to protect yourself. As a result, we've swapped bodies. I'm you now, Ron. And you're now who I once was. But I must say you've become one extremely fetching young lady." "Sourdough biscuits." Nothing happened. "Sourdough muffins." Still nothing happened. "Sourdough bread." And once again, nothing happened. "Have you finished now, Ron?" asked the man calmly. "You've used all of your prized trigger phrases. You might want to consider trying a simple 'sourdough shit', but I'm afraid that will not bring you any more success than any of the others. If you'd only asked me first, I would have told you they'd all been canceled out." "You're not Sara. Who are you? What did you do to her?" asked Ron, noticeably frightened. "You're right, I'm not Sara; you are. But you have no need to be frightened of me," replied the man inhabiting his former body. "I am known as Seltark. I'm a very grateful minor male demon that for far too long had been entrapped within that casing of the human female you knew as Sara." Seltark smiled as he reached down and felt his new and definitely male crotch. "I doubt you could ever begin to understand how it's been for me doomed to the existence of a human female. I always knew who and what I was, but she was always in control. I could only observe what happened and act within the part assigned me as my punishment." Ron cautiously caressed his firm new breasts. "I wouldn't bet on not knowing how it feels, Seltark." "Our situations are not quite the same, Ron. You've only been female for a few short hours and fully aware of yourself as such for a significantly lesser time. I've been forced to be a woman through several of your lifetimes. But I suppose you have made a somewhat interesting point." Seltark gazed hungrily at Ron's new female frame. "And you've also reminded me that it has been a very long time since I was last a male." "Don't even think about doing that shit with me," snapped Ron, as he immediately recognized the intent behind Seltark's lustful leer. "Why didn't any of my post hypnotic triggers work?" he asked, hoping to derail Seltark's all to obvious lusty train of thought. "For one, once you commanded my wanton 'Selena' persona to take control of the body you've newly obtained, the trance holding my other two pseudo-identities simply vanished. After finding myself in full control, I simply played along with what you thought you were doing. I easily fooled you into thinking I was totally and helplessly under your control, when, in reality, I very obviously wasn't." Seltark carefully scrutinized Ron's new female frame again. "And for another, since it could prove to be a nuisance later, you no longer have any valid reasons to know anything about hypnosis. You no longer retain any knowledge of what hypnosis is." "Hip-what-zis?" Ron was suddenly confused; he had no idea about what Seltark was talking. "What the hell is that shit anyway?" He shook his head slowly; he was still unsure about what had just happened to him. "What was all that other shit you were talking about earlier? I really can't understand why you thought you needed to fool me about whatever it was you thought you were fooling me about." "Isn't it completely obvious to you by now, Ron? I could only swap bodies with you if I were in full control of my then current female body at that very instant of your first penetration. But it certainly didn't hurt that you had neither the means nor any real physical power to prevent me from taking your body in exchange for mine." "Pen...e...tra...tion?" Ron female face suddenly paled. "You can't possibly mean what I think you mean," he stuttered. "You and me? In this body? We had sexual intercourse?" "Just for the very briefest of moments," replied Seltark. "But, I might add, it was for so brief a time, it really shouldn't count as a time together. You must realize its brevity was caused largely by circumstances that were beyond either of our controls. But at that exact instant your former penis began its entry into my former vagina, you unfortunately passed out while our life essences were instantly exchanged." Seltark casually slid his arm around Ron's slender waist. "All of which only reminds me again, my new love, especially now that you're wide awake again, I wish to copulate with you in earnest." Ron's face immediately flared a brilliant crimson. "You what?" Instinctively, he slapped his former face. "What did you do that for?" asked the surprised Seltark as he rubbed his aching jaw. "Just because," snarled Ron angrily. "I can't believe you even had the nerve to ask me the damn question." He glared daggers at Seltark. "You and I are never ever going to have sex together. You got that, you fucking dipshit?" "But why not?" asked Seltark plaintively. "It's been such a long wait for me. And since I'm a man again and you're a woman now, what could be more natural? I'm only looking for a little harmless fun. It's not as if I'm looking to knock you up or anything like that. Although it's not a complete impossibility under controlled circumstances, impregnating you would be a major complication that I would rather avoid." Seltark grinned at Ron. "Besides, isn't it perfectly normal for a man like me to have sexual relations with his wife. My dear?" "I am not your wife!" exclaimed Ron. "But you are. Just take a look at the hard evidence. Your luscious young female body is lawfully my wife, even though your stubborn mind willfully denies the facts." "That's tough fucking shit for you, Seltark," snapped Ron. "You might have trapped me in my wife's body for the moment, but I still think like the man I've always been. I've never even considered having sex with another man in my entire life. And even if I am outwardly female now, I never intend on having sex with other men. But even if I did ever reconsider, which I doubt, I sure as hell wouldn't let you in my true body be the first man to do me." "Is that a fact, babe?" snarled Seltark. Ron glared defiantly into the demon's eyes. "You can put money on it, asshole!" Ron crossed his arms below his breasts, almost as if he were daring Seltark to do something about his continued defiance. "Well, I think we'll just see about doing something about that horrid attitude of yours, little missy," grinned Seltark. "Why don't you close your eyes and take another little nap, Ron?" Unable to resist the demon's suggestion, Ron's eyes quickly glazed over and his eyelids closed. "You haven't yet realized that your paltry hypnosis is nothing more than an overrated little parlor game when compared to my magic. You use hypnosis only to make other humans believe things are true when they're really false. But with my demon magic I can take what is false and reshape reality about it so it becomes the absolute undeniable truth. Can you hear me, Ron?" "Yes, Seltark." "Very good. Now I want you to listen to everything I have to tell you. Whatever I tell you will be the total truth, just because it is and has always been the truth." Seltark paused for a moment to allow Ron and the world sufficient time to accept his statements. "You may still think of yourself as a man, if that's what you really wish, but the genitals of your current body are just as yours have always been; they are now, as they've always been, the determining factor in all of your sexual wants and desires. You've never had sex with a woman at any time in your life. Neither have you had any desires of sleeping with a woman. Unless it was with a man, you've never managed to have a meaningful sexual relationship. In every one of your past sexual encounters, you've always been the one penetrated; you've neither been nor ever wanted to be the penetrator. You don't question it; that's just the way you've always enjoyed having sex." As he'd always hated not getting his own way in whatever he wanted, Seltark had purposely overstated his own desires for Ron. Seltark paused again to allow the world time to catch up. "Do you understand, Ron?" "Yes, I understand." "That's excellent," grinned Seltark. "I'm sure we should see quite an improvement in your attitude now." Seltark leaned over and lightly kissed Ron's cheek. "It's time to wake up, Ron." Ron's eyes snapped open immediately. But now, even though he'd continued glaring at Seltark as he had before, he found not only his defiance wilting quickly but that feeling being replaced with an intense sexual arousal. But for some reason he couldn't totally explain, he found nothing disturbing or unusual about his high state of arousal in the presence of his former male body. He'd always considered himself a handsome young man. And now that Ron could see his former male self from this brand new and vastly different perspective, he was pleased with the confirmation of his earlier opinion of himself. Ron suddenly wondered what it would be like doing it with himself. There were still two of them, so it shouldn't be exactly like masturbation. But there was only one way to find out. "Well? What are you waiting for, Seltark?" As Ron began relaxing, he slowly sank down onto the bed. "So? What are you waiting for?" he asked the demon impatiently. "Are you ever going to fuck me? Or are you just gonna stand there all night staring at my body and thinking about it?" "Now that's definitely a vastly superior attitude to the one you had before." Seltark was grinning like the Cheshire cat as he joined his newly eagerized partner in their bed. Seltark's long wait was finally over. *** When Ron awoke the next morning, he was surprised that Seltark wasn't lying next to him. As he wondered to where the demon had run off, he idly cradled his new breasts. Although he couldn't point a finger at anything that might be its cause, he was feeling somewhat stranger than normal this morning. It couldn't be the way he was rubbing his breasts; that felt too damn great to be strange. And Ron was also absolutely certain that he and Seltark having had sex all night couldn't possibly be at the root of his peculiar feelings. How could it possibly be having sex with Seltark making him feel strange? Even though the demon now possessed his former male body, Ron knew Seltark hadn't been the first man who'd ever fucked him. He'd had so many male lovers in the past, but, after last night, he definitely numbered Seltark among the best that had ever laid him. At the same time - even knowing he'd formerly been male - Ron never gave a second thought to any of his memories of him using his sexy body to bed dozens of other guys. But why should he continue taking any of his valuable time to worry about something like that? He'd always enjoyed being with other men. He'd never been - nor had he ever wanted to be - with a woman. There was nothing he found more exciting than having some man's giant cock sliding in and out of his wet pussy. Ron continued running his fingers gently across his breasts and erect nipples. Maybe, he reconsidered; it really is having these wonderful tits that are making me feel so marvelously strange this morning. Ron had only just that moment realized that his former body hadn't come equipped with the sensitive rack he now had as standard equipment. He wished they could be bigger, but they still felt damn good whenever he stroked them. As Seltark re-entered the room, he asked, "How are you feeling this morning, Ron?" "Wonderful," sighed Ron breathily. "I can't believe how simply wonderful I feel, Seltark." Ron smiled at the demon - just seeing Seltark again was making him feel tingly all over. "I was doing a little thinking while I was sitting in the other room." "You have?" asked Ron. "About what?" Ron hoped he was thinking the same thoughts he was currently thinking. "Mostly I've been thinking about the problem of our names?" "Our names? What problems? I just don't understand." Ron sounded confused and disappointed. "There's nothing wrong with our names. What would make you think there was some problem with our names?" "Isn't it obvious, Ron?" replied Seltark. But as he looked at Ron he could see it wasn't obvious to him at all; there were other thoughts obviously filling Ron's mind. "Let's see if I can help you out. Why don't you tell me our names?" "Sure. That's a simple enough question." Ron placed his hands on his hips. "Although my mind is currently housed in my wife's lovely body, I'm really Ron Tompkins. And you're actually a minor demon named Seltark who has stolen my rightful male body." "You don't find any of that confusing?" "No. Not really," replied Ron. "Why should I? It's all perfectly simple." "But what about our neighbors?" asked Seltark. "Don't you think the neighbors will be confused? How can I possibly continue calling you Ron around them when they'll take one look at you and see you're Sara, not Ron? And what do you think they'll have say when you call me Seltark instead of Ron? Seltark's a fairly common name among demons, but none of the neighbors are likely to have heard it before." "When you put it that way, our neighbors will probably be very confused by our names," said Ron after briefly thinking over what Seltark had said. "I'm sure you must know that none of our neighbors is all that bright in the first place. If they panicked and called the police, we could be in deep shit. But what can we possibly do to keep from confusing them?" "I'm glad you asked me that question; that was exactly what I was thinking about earlier." Seltark gently placed one of his hands across Ron's forehead. After whispering something in Ron's ear, he quickly pulled his hand away. "Now, why don't you tell me once more what our names are?" "It's still a very simple question. But nothing's changed, since the last time you asked me. You're Ron Tompkins and I'm your wife Sara Tompkins." Sara suddenly frowned at Ron, but it had nothing to do with his name having changed. He knew his name was Sara; he couldn't recall having had another name. "Now just wait one damn minute here, Ron. Even if it is for you, I can't be your wife. Even with my current exceptionally lovely female appearance, I'm still a man inside my head." "Well, of course you are, Sara dear," replied Ron. "If you wish to continue thinking yourself male, I see no reason to change that. But just consider our neighbors again. Don't you think it will be simpler for them if they continue thinking of you as my wife?" "You're absolutely right again, Ron. I really don't know why I keep forgetting to consider our dimwitted neighbors. But as long as you remember I'm really a man, I guess it will be all right with me if we consider ourselves husband and wife... around the neighbors." And also whenever we're fucking like rabbits, he silently added to himself. "Perhaps you should think about getting dressed." "Whatever for? I'd rather stay naked." Sara winked mischievously at Ron. "Don't you like looking at naked little me? Besides, I've been hoping we could jump back into the sack. I'm still feeling really horny and I was thinking we could just fuck non-stop for the next several hours." Ron, quite pleased with himself, could only smile. If only some of his old demon cronies could see him now. They'd always been overly critical about many of his techniques with human girls in the past. But even the most skeptical of them would have to admit his techniques were obviously successful. Hadn't he easily put a man's essence into a woman's body and then fucked him six ways from the demon's Sabbath? Hadn't he made him an eternally hot and lustful woman? And didn't he now crave having a man's big dick in his wet pussy? "I just thought you might like to have a night out on the town tonight." "Where would we go?" "No place special - just out on the town for a while," replied Ron. "Perhaps you'd like to visit that quiet little bar down the street." "That would be all right, I suppose. We haven't been there together in ages," said Sara. "But I suppose that means I'd better put on some clothes before we leave. I'd still rather be totally nude... and in our little nest. I'll bet there would be a lot more guys in the bar checking out a stark naked me, then one fully clothed." "There's no doubt about that, Sara." Inwardly Ron smiled. Sara might still think himself a man deep down, but outwardly he acted more like a wanton slut. And yet, he wasn't about to complain. That was the way he'd made him; he could live with Sara being a slut. However, as Ron watched Sara leaving the room, he noted that Sara's gait was more like one of an overly large trucker on the prowl than the incredibly sexy woman he had now become. Ron figured he'd have to do something to correct this embarrassing way his wife walked before they went out on the town. When Sara returned a few minutes later, Ron was visibly stunned. He stared at Sara in total disbelief of her appearance. "Just what the fuck are you wearing? And what the hell have you done to yourself?" "What do you mean?" asked Sara with a slight whimper. Sara had dressed in a knee-length wool skirt, an old ragged pair of tennis shoes, a loose and very baggy cotton blouse, and a light colored windbreaker. He wore no makeup. And he had rolled his long brunette hair into a tight and very unattractive bun. "These clothes I'm wearing must be mine now, silly boy. They were in my closet. They must have belonged to my wife before you stuck me into her body." Sara sighed as he saw himself in the mirror. "My former wife never wore makeup; there isn't any in the whole house. And I've fixed my hair exactly the way she always wore it when we went out. I had no idea I even knew how to fix my new hair this way." "You look neither overly attractive nor very sexy dressed this way," said Ron. "No fucking shit," snapped Sara. "You don't have to tell me something I already know. I used to complain about the exact same thing all the time, but would she ever listen to me?" Sara frowned. "No. She'd never listen to anything I had to say on the subject at all. My wife never wanted to be or look sexy; all she ever wanted her life to be was simple, plain, and boring. Sometimes I even wondered why she married me." Ron had been wondering about that as well; entrapped demons seldom married. "But you've always had plenty of potential, Sara," replied Ron. "However, before we can go out on the town, you'll definitely have to dress a hell of a lot better than you are now." "If that's the case, then I guess we won't be going anywhere tonight after all," pouted Sara. But then, he unbuttoned his blouse and began smiling. "But that's all right. I guess we'll just have to stay right here and fuck the whole night away, because these are probably the sexiest clothes in my entire closet." "You've pulling my leg." "I am not." pouted Sara briefly. "Although I can think of something of yours I wouldn't mind pulling." He glanced mischievously at Seltark. "Surely you must remember what clothes are hanging in my new closet. I mean, you bought them; you used to wear this body long before you stole mine." "I suppose I must do something about fixing this annoying little problem of your clothing as well." Ron slowly passed a hand over Sara's head. Within a single heartbeat, Sara could feel his knee-length skirt slowly begin climbing up his legs. Its movement sent an odd, and yet extremely pleasant and exciting, tingly sensation coursing throughout his body. While his skirt continued rising increasingly higher, it also tightened across his body. It altered from the wool it had been into black leather. When its ascent of his legs finally ceased, his now form-fitting skirt barely covered his crotch. As Sara glanced downwards, he could see his two smooth and incredibly sexy legs extending down to the floor. He was further amazed at finding himself wearing a pair of open-toed shoes with two-inch heels. But seeing them on his now dainty feet also made him start wondering. Since he'd never before worn shoes with any heels like these before, how would he ever walk around without falling down at every step? The buttons of his baggy blouse suddenly fell noiselessly to the floor. But instead of his blouse opening to expose his breasts, its two sides swiftly fused seamlessly together. His blouse also tightened about his new bodily contours, quickly conforming to his pleasing new feminine shape. Its neckline plunged. Even if his breasts were smaller than he would have liked them to be, his new halter shamelessly revealed his new cleavage. The windbreaker darkened in color, as its lightweight material thickened into a leather. His new jacket matched the style and ebony color of his short leather skirt. As his other clothes had done, his new leather jacket quickly conformed to Sara's new and delightfully feminine bodily contours. The tight bun in which his hair was unattractively wound suddenly collapsed. His long silky brunette hair now flowed freely onto and over his soft shoulders. Sara could also tell he was now wearing makeup - a lot of it. Even without seeing himself, he knew he must appear quite beautiful. "I think that's a much better look for you," smiled Ron in approval. But as he had been afraid he might, Sara stumbled as he took his first step in his new footwear. "Time for another short nap, Sara," said Ron quietly. And obediently Sara's eyes closed. "Whenever you're dressed as you are now, you will feel wanton and incredibly sexy. But you've never dressed or wanted to dress any differently than you currently are. From this moment on, you shall move with utmost confidence and feminine grace, although your every move has always been filled with confident sensuality. All of the clothes now hanging in your closet are now similar to what you're currently wearing. You've always thoroughly enjoyed showing off your incredibly sexy body for anyone willing to watch you. You've always worn your hair loose about the shoulders just as it is now. And you have and will always wear makeup to highlight your true beauty, just as you have done for years." Ron paused for a moment. That, he decided, should cover everything for the time being. "Do you understand, Sara?" "Yes, Ron." "Very good," replied Ron. "It's now time to wake up, Sara." Sara's eyes fluttered open. For some peculiar reason he now felt incredibly sexy. But he soon dismissed the strangeness he felt as inconsequential. It wasn't anything unusual for him to feel sexy; he'd always felt incredibly sexy whenever he was dressed to go out with Ron. With an exaggerated sway to his hips, Sara strolled over to the mirror. As he walked, he enjoyed the feel of his long hair swishing across his shoulders. He smiled at his reflection as he posed before the mirror. He'd been right; he was beautiful. And at that instant, he knew he was probably the sexiest and most graceful man in the whole wide world. It must be the way my new clothes fit me, thought Sara. I always feel incredibly sexy whenever I'm dressed this way. As Ron joined him in front of the mirror, he slid his muscular male arm around Sara's thin female waist. "Are you ready for our night of fun now, my sweet Sara?" "You bet I am, dear" smiled Sara with a girlish giggle. "I can hardly wait to be on our way." *** As the couple entered the small bar located not far down the street, heads quickly turned in Sara's direction. Even though the old bartender - his small nametag read simply "Bart" - looked up and managed a small smile when he recognized his two infrequent patrons, he continued going about his business as usual. But the bar's crowd of regulars - all of them male - quite obviously weren't prepared for the appearance of a woman as thoroughly fascinating and sexy as Sara strolling into their hideaway. Despite all the stares from the men directed Sara's way, Ron and his wife found a vacant and secluded booth near the back wall of the bar. It was also as far away from the counter and the staring men as they could sit. A stereotypical waitress - silky dark blonde hair down to her waist, boobs the size of basketballs, and a waspishly thin waist - ambled over to the booth to take their order. With just a single look at her, Ron decided this waitress was probably of limited intelligence; she simply wouldn't need too many smarts working in a place like this, especially looking the way she did. And yet, there was something oddly familiar about her. Ron had almost convinced himself that he must have met her somewhere before. But where? He would have thought her one of his old conquests, except she was several lifetimes too young for that. She was the new girl - more or less - working at the local bar. Ron didn't remember seeing her the last time he and Sara had been here together. On the other hand, that did nothing to rule out from working here then. The last time they'd been at the bar, Ron had been Sara and the Sara he'd been would have never taken notice of someone like her. But just as oddly, the waitress stood and kept staring at Ron for several minutes. Like him, it almost seemed she was also trying to figure out where they might have met. And while she'd been busily looking Ron over from head to toe, she'd virtually ignored Sara. In fact, she'd been startled momentarily when Sara had finally ordered a beer. However, despite the inattention from their waitress, Sara was in no way being totally ignored. Excluding Bart the old bartender, not one of the seven young men sitting at the bar had missed an opportunity to gaze appreciatively in Sara's direction. All of them openly leered at the pretty girl; none of them made the slightest attempt at concealing their obviously lascivious thoughts. To Sara's credit, he wouldn't allow their incessant stares to bother him in the slightest. He'd always eagerly enjoyed showing off his body to anyone willing to watch and they were definitely willing. And he hoped they were all getting a really good look. However, as much as he'd always loved getting laid by any new good-looking young man he met, he was out with his Ron tonight and those boys were just shit out of luck. At the same time, even if these lust-crazed little boys were of no particular interest to him tonight, he found it quite delightful being the sensual focal point for all their lustful attentions. Ron wasn't overly concerned about any of the seven young men staring at Sara. He was a big girl now; he could take care of himself. Sara was also his wife - at least Sara would think himself his wife while they were in this crowd together. Besides, none of these guys had any real idea who they'd be messing with if they tried starting something with him. He expected at least one - and probably all seven - of them to do something stupid eventually, He knew the little snots would never be capable of finishing anything they started. And yet, after a little considered thought of his own, Ron decided the young men's lusty stares showed uncommonly good taste in their choice of women. Although he realized he might be ever so slightly biased in Sara's favor - she was his wife now and before that he'd been her for such a long time - he didn't believe any of them had ever before witnessed womanflesh as sensuously fantastic as his Sara had become. Not long after the buxomly waitress had returned with the drinks they'd ordered, but still somewhat earlier than Ron had been expecting, one of the young men at the bar stood up and made his way towards the booth in which they were sitting. Ron smiled as he saw the lanky, sandy-haired lad approach; he knew this encounter would likely prove very interesting. He was convinced the approaching youngster - in the same manner the waitress had paid no heed to Sara earlier - had yet to realize Ron was sitting with the object of his full attention. For all intents and purposes, he hadn't taken his eyes off Sara since he'd first laid eyes on the pretty girl he assumed Sara was enter the bar. "Hello," said the man to Sara, while, not surprisingly, ignoring Ron. "My name's Tom. Tom Peters." "So what do you want me to do about it?" replied Sara, as he casually looked up at Tom before taking another sip of his beer. "You want a medal or something?" Tom was puzzled by the girl's uninterested response. She was very obviously going to be a challenge; Tom had always loved a good challenge, particularly those who were so young and attractive. He was confident he'd quickly win her over; he'd long ago lost track of the number of cold hearts he'd warmed and captured in his life. "You're one really hot babe, you know." Sara glanced up at the young man again. "Why thank you, Tom," he replied coldly, before lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a long swig of his beer. As he lowered the bottle from his painted lips, he snarled at Tom, "Are you still here?" "Of course I'm still here, babe," replied Tom with a wide smile. "You must know by now that I want you." "Please go away, Tom. I'm not at all interested in you." Sara frowned at Tom, hoping he'd take the hint and leave. But when he didn't budge, Sara added, "You obviously don't have very good powers of observation, Tom. Otherwise, how could you explain continuing to hit on me in the presence of my husband?" Tom glanced over in Ron's direction. It was almost as if he might be noticing him for the first time. "No problem. He doesn't look like much of a man to me, babe. If you just think it over for a couple of minutes, I'm sure you'll realize that I'm a far superior match for you than he could ever dream possible. In fact - just from the pitiful look of him - I'd be willing to bet that I want your young nubile body a hell of a lot more than he's ever wanted it in his life." Ron smiled at the hidden truth Tom had inadvertently hit upon with his boastful statement. It was a truth Tom could have never known. And it was definitely one he'd never guess, although it had given him an interesting idea for a little fun. "Do something about him, Ron," said Sara indignantly. "And just what would you suggest he do to me, babe?" grinned Tom. "This so-called husband of yours looks like an impotent fool to me. I doubt he's even capable of protecting himself." In the face of Tom's continued taunts, Ron continued smiling. "Let me see if I've sized up the situation accurately, young man. If I correctly understand your position, you want my wife's young body?" "I'm surprised. But you understand what I want exactly, bozo." Tom's grin grew wider; he figured this man wasn't even going to lift a hand in an attempt to keep his woman. "Well, Tom. At this exact instant, I'm not favorably disposed towards letting you have my wife's body." Tom's mouth dropped open in total surprise. "However, in order to avoid the senseless violence you're no doubt now considering after my refusal of your request, I think I have come up with the perfect compromise... of sorts... for you." "Compromise?" Tom was confused; he wanted the babe, not some stupid compromise. "What kind of compromise are you talking about?" "Since you've decided you want my Sara's body so badly, I've decided I should just give you one exactly like it," replied Ron calmly. "Since you'll effectively have her body, I should think you'll find that a mostly acceptable compromise." Ron waved a hand at Tom, and then leaned back in his chair to watch the spell he'd just cast take effect. Tom's tall frame shrank and his angular lankiness was replaced with several soft curves no man should ever possess. Within a few mere heartbeats, he'd been completely recast - including the clothes he'd been wearing - into Sara's identical twin. "Tara!" squealed Sara with delight as he looked up once again and saw the newly transformed Tom. "I so glad you're finally here. But when did you get here? I didn't see you come in." As he quickly looked about the bar for the new girl Tara, Tom saw no one else standing near him. As far as he could tell, Sara was still the only girl in the place. However, whenever he'd turned his head, he'd oddly felt his hair swishing across his shoulders. But that wasn't possible. He couldn't have hair long enough to do that; never in his entire life had he ever come close to wearing his hair so long. However, after grabbing a fistful of his new locks and pulling, he was stunned by the intense pain he felt. His hair was not only several inches longer than it should be, it was also firmly attached to his scalp. And it had also rapidly darkened into an exact match for the brunette shade of Sara's tresses. When Tom glanced down towards the floor, he received another surprise. His legs were now bared; they had also become very smooth and totally hairless. Although he knew what he was seeing had to be impossible, his legs now extended downward from beneath the hem of the very short, tight-fitting black leather skirt he was wearing. He wondered how he could possibly be standing easily in these shoes with their two-inch heels. Absently, his hand made its way to his chest. His eyes widened in an odd combination of total shock and utter amazement. Just where - his mind could barely conceive what he'd found hanging firmly from his chest - could they have possibly come from. "What did you do to me?" asked Tom, the tone of his voice spiraling upwards. "I've got tits!" he exclaimed. And then his hand suddenly shot down to his crotch. "No, it can't be," he barely managed. "How can I have a pussy?" "Of course you do. What do you think is so strange about having tits and a pussy?" asked Ron. "Didn't you tell me you wanted my wife's body? The last time I checked Sara had the same tits and pussy you now possess." Even though he knew he was its cause, Ron smiled at Tom's predicament. "Maybe you'll feel better if you remind us how you came to acquire them in the first place, my dear." "What the hell are you talking about?" Tom glared in bewilderment at Ron. "Just how the hell would I know where these tits came from? It was like evil magic; I just put my hand on my chest and there they were hanging there just like they'd always been there. It was the same way with this soggy pussy." Tom sighed as he began rubbing his hands slowly across his new breasts; he couldn't believe how simply marvelous this very simple act made him feel. And suddenly - straight out of left field - Tom began relating his tale - one he knew, even though he'd never heard a word of it before, was the complete and absolute truth - of how he'd come to possess his very own wonderful tits and moist pussy. "It happened just after our sixteenth birthday, Ron," began Tom. How had he known this man's name? "Do you remember that night, Sara?" He returned his gaze to Ron. "Did you know that your wife Sara and I were twins? Obviously at birth, we'd been fraternal twins, since at that time Sara was a girl and I was still a boy. However, I'd always believed that some mistake had been made somewhere before we were ever conceived. I'd never been able to adequately explain my reasoning to anyone, but I've always known Sara and I were destined to be identical twins. Of course, for us to become identical twins, Sara would have had to become a male, since I'd never had any desires of becoming a female." "After months and months of fruitless searching for the answers to my unaskable questions, I finally located the prerequisite spell in an ancient mystic tome. Believe it or not, the book was sitting in a small dingy shop run by an older-than-dirt gypsy woman less than a mile from this very spot. After telling the old woman everything I intended to do, she helped me find the correct spell that once cast would make Sara and me the identical twins we'd been meant to be. But she also warned me. For the spell to work as it was intended, it needed to be cast in the light of the full moon immediately after our sixteenth birthday, which, although I thought it nothing more than purely coincidental at the time, was that very same night." "To this day, I'll swear I did everything according to the book, but I must have goofed something up somewhere. Once I had finished casting the spell, I passed out; there was nothing in the book about either of us losing consciousness. And later - how much later I really don't know - when I awoke, my head was nestled comfortably in Sara's lap. Somehow she had found me and sought to comfort me. But she was exactly as she'd always been; she hadn't changed the slightest bit." "And yet, in spite of whatever mistake I must have made, the spell had worked exactly as I'd been told it would. Sara and I were now indistinguishable from one another; we had become identical twins. There was only one small problem - we weren't the brothers I'd envisioned becoming; we were sisters." "Over the next several months, I finally realized that the old gypsy must have tricked me for reasons only she probably knew. I'd sought high and low for that old shop, but I never had any luck finding it. Whenever I asked people about them, no one remembered her and no one had ever heard of such a peculiar shop being located in their neighborhood. It was almost as if she and that accursed shop of hers had never been at all." "But now that so much time's gone by, I really doubt I'd ever want to be returned to my former male self again. I would never have believed it possible at that time, but I've really come to enjoy being as sexy a woman as my twin sister Sara always was. Maybe that old gypsy woman didn't trick me after all; maybe Sara and I were always meant to be sisters all along. Would you believe it? I love having sex as a woman far more than I ever did as a man?" "What is your name now?" asked Ron. "Why it's Tara, of course. Tara Larkins," replied the former Tom Peters using Sara's maiden name. An odd look suddenly passed across Tara's face. "But I don't really understand why you would have to ask me my name, Ron. You should know my name as well as I know yours; you're my sister's husband and my brother-in-law. Tara leaned over and gave Ron a sisterly little peck on the cheek. "I used to have another name - a male one, I think - once. But that was just ages and ages ago and, since that name's not really very important to me any more, I've long forgotten what it might have been." Tara slid into the booth right alongside Sara. After picking up a bottle, identical to the one Sara held in his hand, the two apparent girls began talking back and forth just as any other true sisters, who hadn't seen one another for a while, might do. It wasn't all that long before another pair of young men decided to make their moves on the attractive identical twins. After standing up as if to stretch their legs, they purposely wandered over in the general direction of Sara and Tara. "I'm Carl." "And I'm Mike." "So what do you want me to do about it?" replied Sara. He had an odd sense of deja vu, almost as if he'd already been through this strange scenario before. "But Sara, they're just so cute." "And I'm married. Or don't you remember?" "You don't need to worry about being married," replied Carl. "I'm very open-minded; your being married won't bother me a bit." "It won't bother me either, babe," added Mike. Not that it made much of a difference to him one way or the other, Ron wondered, given the similarity of their approaches, if these two had known Tom well before his transformation into Tara. With the three of them being regulars in this small bar, it seemed highly likely they were at least acquainted with each other. But neither of them acted as if they knew him now. When they looked at Tara, they now saw only the pretty girl he'd become. And, not that he was in any way surprised, both Mike and Carl, so totally engrossed with lust-filled thoughts of the sexy twins, completely ignored Ron's presence. That is, until the overly insistent Carl and Mike eventually crossed over the same line with the twin girls that the former Tom had earlier transgressed with Sara. If they'd only known of Tom's error dealing with Ron, they might not have repeated it nearly verbatim. As a consequence, following another wave of Ron's hand, Cara and Mara Larkins had taken their places in the booth alongside their new sisters Sara and Tara casually sipping their beers. The four of them were now identical quadruplets. In addition, they were talking up a veritable storm, which only served to make them - not that they really needed any assistance in that department - that much more noticeable to the small bar's remaining regulars. The four remaining men that were sitting at the counter never noticed their three friends, who'd earlier gone off somewhere - exactly where, none of them clearly recalled any longer - in order to check out a few new righteous-looking babes, were now missing without a trace. Even though they'd been sitting only a few short feet away, none of them had noticed anything unusual while significant alterations had taken place in their friends. But they were not at all concerned about Tom or Mike or Carl just then; they were all big boys who could take care of themselves. And besides, why should they waste time worrying about them when there were four gorgeous and incredibly hot babes sitting in the rear booth with that luckier-than-shit stranger. In near perfect unison - almost as if they were all of a singular mind - Dwight, Frank, Keith, and Larry stood up and casually made their way back to the small booth. It may have been the smallest booth in the bar, but it was currently filled to overflowing with far more feminine pulchritude than any of them had ever witnessed in one place at the same time. They were all determined to get as large a chunk of the stranger's action as was possible. "You know, mister, we just don't think it's right for you to be hoarding this fine herd of gorgeous babes all to yourself," said one of them as they approached. Ron had no idea which of them had spoken to him, although he didn't think whichever of them had spoken really mattered. He was fairly certain all four of them shared the same single thought. "We'll be glad to take these four hot babes off your hands," all four of them chorused. "But there are four of you," replied Ron. "I suppose I could allow you to have your way with my wife's three sisters; that is, if they're of a mind to go anywhere with you, which I seriously doubt. But regardless of whatever else they finally decide on doing, my wife stays right here with me." "That would mean we'd have to share three babes between the four of us," said Dwight. "I can't say I think much of that idea," said Frank. "I've never really been known to share anything." "And it doesn't sound all that fair to me either," added Keith. "It means you'd have a whole babe all to yourself and we wouldn't. Not only that, but you've been hogging all four of these hot babes ever since you first came in." "That's right. You really haven't been very friendly at all, mister." Larry suddenly began smiling; he had it all figured out now. "But on the other hand, as you've already mentioned, there are four of us and only the one of you." The other three young men began smiling as they also realized Larry had it all figured out in their favor. "Why don't you take a little time - but not too much - and think about these brand new odds I've just quoted, mister? Would you like to reconsider that totally unfriendly answer of yours?" Ron sighed. Why did these human males always resort to threats of senseless violence? "I've tried to be reasonable with you boys, but if that's the way you want it, then so be it." "But Ron, you just can't give in to them like this," muttered Sara as his identical sisters Tara, Cara, and Mara nodded their heads in full agreement. "You must do something, Ron." The grins on their faces widened. The girls might not like what was happening, but obviously the old fool wasn't nearly as stupid as they'd first thought him to be. He was going to quit without putting up a fight. He definitely wasn't much of a man in their eyes, but that just worked in their favor. Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of light. And a moment later as it cleared, Dara, Fara, Kara, and Lara were somehow finding a way of crowding into the already overfilled booth with Ron and their other four sisters. There were now eight of them sitting in the booth with Ron. And all eight girls were exactly identical to Sara. Was the world even ready for such an awesome set of identical octuplets? But the demon wasn't ready to think about what the world was or wasn't ready for just yet. For at the moment, other than that strangely familiar buxomly blonde waitress and the old bartender named Bart, Ron and his sexy octet of identical girls had the whole place all to themselves. *** Ron was thoroughly pleased with himself as he surveyed his current situation. As he sat in the booth, he was totally surrounded by his octet of newly transformed women, who, being completely identical, were all equally pleasing to his eye. Simply becoming a man again and keeping Sara's original body for his own pleasures had made him a happier demon than he'd been in several lifetimes. But now that he controlled this identical octet of Sara's, Ron knew he'd never be able to adequately describe his current feelings to anyone. Where could he possibly start? Totally lost in his lustful thoughts, Ron never noticed the busty dark blonde waitress slowly sauntering his way. Just as she had earlier in the day, she ignored Sara completely. Also apparently well beneath her interest were the other seven members of the newly formed set of identical octuplets. "Shit. I really should have known," she said petulantly. She shook her head as she stopped in front of him. "As soon as I first laid eyes on you, I should have realized who you were," she snapped. "Damn me for an ignorant fool! No one I've ever known has had such an unerring knack of murdering an evening as completely as you can, Seltark." Ron looked up at her in stunned surprise. "What did you call me, missy?" She was a human; she couldn't possibly know his demon name. Having finally escaped from his fleshy female prison, no one - not even another demon - should have recognized him as Seltark while he continued wearing this male human flesh - something he planned on doing for a long, long time. The waitress smiled at him slyly. "I called you by your name, of course, Seltark. Don't bother denying it. I don't