Just Another Day in the Life of a Body Hopper
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Karen's Dilemma: A Body Hopper Story free porn video
Karen's Dilemma: A Body Hopper Story
By Limbo's Mistress
"Wake up, Sleepyhead," a familiar voice sang through the darkness. "You
don't want to miss out on the last few moments of your life."
Fighting against the lethargy that had my thoughts in a bear hug, I
strained to open my eyelids. As the first rays of illumination broke
through the encompassing blackness, I winced. I could feel the gears of
my mind trying to find purchase. The wheels turned slowly as the traces
of memory began to resurface.
I'd been on my way to my car, planning on meeting some friends at a pub
on the other side of town. My roommate, Julia, had been too worried
about her upcoming English exam to accompany me, so I'd trudged across
campus to the residential lot all by myself.
The pathway from the dorms to the parking areas was well-lit and
regularly travelled, so I wasn't too concerned with being a single,
attractive female walking by herself well after dark. I should have,
though.
The moment I reached my Jeep and unlocked the doors, something hit me
from behind. No, not something. Someone. Before I could scream, a gloved
hand clamped over my mouth and I felt something sharp jab into my neck.
After that, I dropped into the realm of unconsciousness.
"Come on," the voice said. "You can do it."
Damn, it was more familiar than I thought. I knew, without question,
that I had heard that voice before. However, for the life of me I
couldn't conjure the image of the owner.
Straining, I finally managed to get my non-cooperative eyelids to behave
and blinked rapidly as the world around me swam back into focus.
I was seated in a chair, though I was completely confused by the fact
that I was wearing a pair of jeans. I distinctly recalled putting on a
rather cute gray wool skirt before leaving my dorm. The shoes on my
feet, too, were not right. Not only had my new Pradas been replaced by a
pair of worn-out Nikes, the size was completely wrong. From the angle of
my gaze, they looked like clown shoes.
Slowly, I lifted my head. The throbbing at the base of my skull was
worse than any hangover I'd had the displeasure of experiencing. It was
more like every morning-after had decided to get together for a soiree.
My mouth was parched beyond belief and a wave of nausea accompanied my
motions.
As my gaze drifted up, my eyes registered something completely
impossible. First thing I realized was that the owner of the voice I'd
heard was standing right in front of me. When I saw her feet, wearing my
Pradas no less, I deduced it was a female. Further up, her legs vanished
beneath the hem of the same gray skirt I'd been wearing. The only
difference from the last time I'd seen it was the fact that it was
smudged with grime on one side and had a tear on the other. Not only had
I been kidnapped, apparently my clothes had been stolen as well.
Above the skirt was the same pink blouse I'd previously been wearing.
It, too, was dirty in places. God, it's not bad enough to take my stuff,
but did they have to ruin it as well?
I brought my face up to look at the person, determined to let them know
exactly what I thought about the whole situation. Unfortunately, my
anger instantly changed into confusion when I realized who was standing
before me.
It was me.
I stared at my own beautiful face, with its perfect nose, full lips, and
wide, bright blue eyes. She had the same light brown hair I'd had all my
life, which fell down in little waves onto her shoulders. It was like
looking at my twin sister. If I had one, that is.
"What the hell is going..." I stopped as the words came out of my mouth
in a tone that was completely foreign to my ears. My throat had to be
drier than I'd realized, since the voice passing between my lips had
sounded rather gruff.
"Oh," the person who looked like me said. "Sorry about that. I'm sure
you're a bit confused. Completely understandable." She looked around and
then walked around out of sight behind me.
I tried to get up from the chair, but realized my arms and chest were
strapped down. When I dropped my gaze to see if I could somehow free
myself, my heart seized. The hands pinned to the arms of the chair
weren't mine. They were bigger, hairier, and rougher than the ones that
belonged to me.
They were a man's hands.
Before I could find my voice again, I felt the chair being turned
around. "There," Not-Me said, as she came into view. "This should help."
She stepped aside, revealing a full-length mirror hanging on the wall.
For several seconds, my mind stubbornly refused to accept what my eyes
were seeing. As the heartbeats ticked by, I found myself falling deeper
and deeper into this waking nightmare.
In the looking glass' reflection, an older man sat strapped into a
chair. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, dirty Nikes, and a black
t-shirt. His face wasn't unattractive, for someone who looked around
fifty. His hair, however, was almost completely gray and thinning to the
point of baldness. His eyes, a slate gray color, looked bloodshot and
tired.
My eyes.
"What?" I croaked, unable to look away.
"I would have thought it obvious, Karen," she said as she pointed at the
mirror. "We've swapped bodies."
I nodded, still too freaked out to throw in the required "Duh." If I
could believe what my eyes and ears were screaming, then the explanation
Not-Me had given was the only one that made any sort of sense at all.
"How?" I asked, finally able to turn my head away from the horror in the
mirror to look at myself. "Why?"
She smiled. It was incredibly eerie that I'd seen that same expression
in every other mirror over the course of my whole life. Now it was on
the face of someone else and didn't look out of place. "That's two
questions that are going to require two separate answers. The how is the
easy part. You see, I'm a Body Hopper."
"A what?" The way she'd said it seemed to indicate I should know what
she was talking about. "Guess you're not up on your urban legends." She
sighed and gestured at herself. Myself. "Okay, in really simple terms, I
have the ability to swap souls with another person. I put my soul in
them and their soul in me. It allows me to change bodies whenever I
want." She waved her hands. "Oh sure, there are multiple ways of
swapping bodies between people. Some folks use technology. Others use
magickal spells or trinkets. There's even a medallion out there that
allows people to swap or alter specific body parts as well as the whole
package."
"Magick?" There was no such thing as magick. Other than cheap illusions
gracing the Vegas Strip."
Not-Me nodded. "My method is more ... biological. A mutation, if you
will. I don't need incantations or anything like that. It's just
something I can do." She shrugged again. "Well, me and about a hundred
other people.
"Why?" I pulled against the straps holding me in place. I wasn't sure if
the chick was crazy or if she was telling the truth. For all I knew,
this could be some weird ass drug experience. Maybe some type of
hypnosis.
"Why? Well, multiple reasons, I guess. One, I was tired of being Gary."
"Gary?" I turned my head to look at the old man in the chair in the
mirror for a moment.
"Yes. I've been Gary for about thirty years or so. I'm bored of him now.
Besides, as I'm sure you can see, he's starting to get a little worn
out." She turned and looked at herself in the mirror, running her hands
over the curves of her pilfered body.
"It's been so long since I was a girl. I'll admit, I'm practically
creaming from excitement."
I pulled on the straps again and then narrowed my eyes at her. I might
not be in my own body, but I was sure as hell in my own mind. I thought
it was time for "Gary" to get a glimpse at who he'd decided to mess
with.
"I wouldn't plan on being me for long. As soon as I get loose, my father
will have every law officer and FBI agent in the country gunning for
your ass. They'll make you change us back." Her mouth dropped open in
terror as she placed one hand over her heart. Then her expression
shifted from fear to amusement and a hearty laugh came from between her
lips.
"Oh, that's hilarious." She shook her head. "Tell me, did you actually
think that was going to make me put us back? I'm afraid not." She
strolled over and ran her fingertips along the side of my face. "Poor
girl. So used to throwing around her family's money and status. You
forget that not everyone is so easily cowered."
She patted my cheek and then walked over to the table next to the wall.
I stared, curiosity becoming worry as she picked up a syringe.
"What's that?" I asked. I really didn't want to know the answer.
"This? This is the end of the line. See, while I'm sure that no one you
know would believe you if you started ranting about body swapping and
such, there are some others out there who might. Individuals who've made
it their life's mission to hunt down those such as myself. One of them
might get wind of your ravings and come investigate. And that I cannot
allow." She turned and walked toward me, holding the needle and its
contents in one hand.
The pounding of my pulse in my ears made it difficult to think. I hadn't
drifted over the edge of full-blown panic yet, but the drop was
approaching rapidly.
"You," I stammered, grasping at some type of argument. "You won't get
away with it."
"Oh?" She said, one eyebrow rising in inquiry as a small smirk appeared
on her face. She panted her free hand on her hip and continued. "If you
don't mind to terribly much, please tell me how you arrived at such a
certain declaration of this little dance's outcome."
I scrambled inside, attempting to recall anything and everything I'd
ever read, seen, or heard about identity theft. A few of my mother's
daytime dramas, ones she'd forced me to watch with her during my more-
formative years, surged to the forefront.
"People will notice. They'll know you aren't me."
"Will they?" She bit down on her lower lip and bounced her head from
side to side as if in contemplation of my words. "You know; I think you
might have a point." She walked over to the table again, putting the
syringe down so she could pick up my purse.
"Yeah," I said, looking around quickly for something to help me get
free. However, the only thing in the room was the chair, the mirror, the
table, and a small bed fitted with leg and arm restraints. "My friends
will know you're an imposter. My parents, too."
"I will concede that, in the past, fooling my victims' families and
acquaintances was a difficult task. I used to watch and observe my
chosen body for months, memorizing their routines, ways of speech, and
other little details of their lives."
She smiled and pulled my cellphone out of the purse before turning
around, looking every bit the cat about to eat the canary.
"Of course, that was before social media. Imagine my glee to know that
you were just like almost every other American your age. Everything you
do, everything you say, everyone you know, is out there for the taking."
She held up the device. I started to brag that she didn't know the
password to unlock it, but before I could even utter a syllable, she put
her finger on the scanner on the back of the phone and the screen
instantly came to life.
Because she now had my fingerprints.
"I hacked your Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Google accounts a
couple of months ago. I've been reading your posts, your texts, and your
emails. Believe me, I've put in several thousand hours memorizing all I
can about you. I think I'll just fine."
I shook my head, trying to not hear her boasting. She was right, of
course. I was a pretty, popular college sophomore, raised by the twenty-
first century. Every aspect of my life was out there for the world to
see.
She put the phone down and picked the syringe back up.
"I don't have to worry about calling one of your friends by the wrong
name," she said, walking toward me. "Or being clueless as to the nature
of your intimate conversations with those close to you. Hell, I probably
know you better than you know yourself at this point."
I tried not to look at the needle. Earlier, I might have questioned its
contents, but by this point I was sure whatever it was would ensure that
my time at Gary would be short. I could feel wetness rolling down my
cheeks as my vision blurred.
"Please," I said softly. "Please don't do this."
"I'm sorry," she said as she stopped right in front of me. "At least on
some level. No one ever wants to die, and the longer one lives, the
stronger that desire to avoid death becomes. After six hundred years, I
can honestly say that, while my sympathy for you is real, it will in no
way persuade me to change my mind."
Six hundred years? How many lives had he/she taken in that time? How
many people had sat where I sat, watching the body that used to be
theirs usher them into oblivion?
"Is that poison?" I asked, hearing a hiccup in my cracking voice.
"Not exactly. In the past, I had to kill those I swapped with. It was
the only way to tie up all the loose ends. However, thanks to modern
chemistry, I now have better avenues available."
She held up the syringe. The light from the single bulb overhead
revealed the contents inside the barrel to be a light green color. It
looked like diluted Kool-Aid and filled me with terror. "This will ...
erase your mind. Of course, that's the simplistic explanation. Once
injected it will cause all the neurons to fire at once, simulating a
massive stroke. You'll be alive, physically. But you'll lose the ability
to move or speak. And your brain will pretty much be like a newborn's."
"What? How is that better than death?"
She looked down at me, blinked, and then laughed. "Better for me, my
dear. That way, I won't have your murder added to the guilt I already
carry."
The tears increased. My heart slammed into my chest so hard I was sure
that I was going to have a heart attack and save my captor the trouble.
"Please." It was the only thing I managed to say before she leaned in
and stabbed me in the neck with the needle. A second later, white-hot
fire emanated from the injection site. It felt as if a thousand ants
were crawling up my neck and down my shoulder, munching on the nerves
along the way.
She threw the syringe onto the floor and leaned over to loosen the
straps on my wrists. The arm on the side of my body where she's stabbed
me was floppy and unresponsive.
"Can't have you all tied up when the police arrive to rescue me, now can
I?" She laughed and fought with the second restraint.
"Police?" My tongue was heavy, the words attempting to slur as they came
out of my mouth.
"Of course. Karen Miller, daughter of the powerful Michael Miller, was
kidnapped from the parking lot of her school the day before yesterday.
It's been all over the news. There's really good video footage of the
kidnapping from the parking lot's cameras." She giggled. "Including a
good image of the face of the man who took her."
"Yourrr ... fassse." My mind seemed to be slowing down as the lava in
my veins crept up the side of my head. The world around me was starting
to lose focus.
"Correction, Cutie. Your face. Gary Redmon's face, to be exact." She bit
down on her lower lip as she fought with the knot still holding my other
arm tight. "I placed an anonymous call about twenty minutes ago,
pretending to be a concerned citizen who thinks they might have spotted
Mr. Redmon in this neighborhood. When the police see your Jeep in the
back yard, they'll know they have the right place."
"Sssave ... you."
"Yes. They'll break down the door and find a terrified young woman who
just went through a trying ordeal. Of course, I'll tell them that you
tried to rape me, but I fought back and you must have had a heart attack
or something. It'll be all neat and tidy." She leaned down to look into
my eyes. There were two of her standing there. "That's how I'll handle
any questions about my not acting like normal. After all, being
kidnapped and threatened affects a person."
The last twirl of the knot came loose as the sound of sirens grew closer
and the world grew dimmer. A surge of panic, surely born of utter
hopelessness and desperation rolled through me. I could feel the
adrenaline rocketing through my system, cutting right through the
effects of the drug.
I reached up with the non-paralyzed hand and grabbed the front of my
tormentor's blouse. Apparently she'd forgotten that she was now in a
petite female body, something that came with a few drawbacks.
Before she could react, I pulled her forward until that perfectly formed
nose collided with Gary's hard forehead. The strained groan that came
from between her lips told me the attack had hurt like hell. Then I
shoved her away as forcefully as I could, sending her stumbling
backward.
She collided with the free-standing mirror, and both of them toppled
over with a deafening crash.
I lurched to my feet, swaying wildly as the world pitched and rolled
like the deck of a boat during a hurricane. Not-Karen was moaning and
slowly starting to stir, trying to recover from the double whammy I'd
given her.
The sound of tires screeching to a halt outside informed me that the
police had arrived. At first, I was overjoyed. If there was anyone who
could make Gary give me my body back, it was my father. Then I realized
that there was no way I'd be able to convince him of who I was. Hell,
according to the person who'd stolen my life, the needle's contents
would leave me nothing but a drooling vegetable soon. I'd never get the
chance to make things right.
Or would I?
Glancing down, I spotted the syringe lying near my feet. Even though
darkness hovered at the edge of my vision, I could see that she'd not
emptied the entire contents into me. There was still some of the green
liquid left.
I bent over to grab the needle and fell down as my legs quit working. My
time was fading fast. I wrapped my fingers around the syringe and
crawled across the floor using my elbow and hips.
The girl on the floor near me was still trying to get up. She had both
hands cupped over her nose, little streaks of red oozing between her
fingers. I hoped I'd broken the damned thing. I also hoped it had hurt
enough to keep her occupied for the next few seconds.
A hard pounding came on the door on the far side of the room.
"Gary Redmon! Open this door." The voice was immediately followed by the
sound of something heavy hitting the surface of the door.
"Help me," Not-Karen cried out. "Please!"
I reached out with the syringe and stabbed it into the meat of her
thigh. Then I pushed the plunger the rest of the way down, sending a
steam of the green liquid into my former body.
The door behind me splintered open and the sound of several pairs of
feet came rushing over. A pair of strong hands grabbed my shoulders and
lifted me off the floor, tossing me across the room.
"Get off her, you fucking freak!"
I hit the floor, rolling over twice before stopping on my back, staring
up at the ceiling. The adrenaline rush faded and the chemicals that had
been momentarily at bay resumed their march to my brain.
As the world around me faded, and my limbs became useless phantoms. I
heard one of the would-be rescuers call for an ambulance.
"Get the medical team in here quick! She's staring to seize."
A little smile formed on my face before I went back down into the
darkness.
Author's Note:
This little macabre tale is something I thought up during one of my many
daydreams. I wanted to write a body swap story where the victim doesn't
get a happy ending. And neither does the villain. This is the first in a
new series I'm developing about people who have the natural ability to
switch bodies with others. I hope you enjoyed reading this introductory
story.
Sincerely,
Limbo's Mistress
Tammi
- 28.12.2020
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