#multiple possession

A Case of SCP - 1481: Crackhead Genie

Lucien grumbled and huffed as he tossed aside the sheaf of damp paper in his hands, along with it came his lab coat which was similarly sodden with what looked like coffee, yet smelled much like what Dr. Jack Bright kept in jars in his office—excrements from 173’s containment chamber mixed with water 'for science’. It only occurred to him now that Jack only kept them for today’s occasion, April’s Fools day, and he’d just been a victim in one of his pranks.

It wasn’t even the first prank of the day; earlier, Dr. Clef had locked them in a chamber with an ‘unclassified’ anomaly for nearly half an hour, his assistants Jacob and Karl salted his tea, Junior Researcher Alvin too was in cohorts with them and replaced the files on his table with lyric sheets to a Rick Astley song. It was frustrating, and the day had only just started—all he wanted to do was get work over with so he could lie down at home again.

Lucien wasn’t fond of pranks, but decidedly had enough of them, so he thought up a plan to enact his revenge upon them; in an anomalous way, and he knew just which SCP could help him. So he sets off towards the facility’s west wing after replacing his lab coat with a fresh one.

The scanner on the item locker accepts Lucien’s ID, and procures a small recyclable coffee cup before he is led to a testing chamber by a few security men under the pretense that he had an approved testing for the day; seeing that he had Level 3 clearance, they didn’t question him at all. Once in the chamber, he places the cup on the table before rubbing its side.

The cup shakes for a moment, before a loud decompressing sound fills the room whilst a spectral form bursts out the mouth of the cup—a humanoid roughly the same height as Lucien, though floating and nigh-transparent in the air. He had multiple coats on from different eras, torn and stained, similar to the jeans he wore. He had both an annoyed and amused look on his face, though his eyes were red and droopy. If Lucien would put it to simple words, he looked like a stoned ghost of a genie.

“You again?” He sneers at Lucien, muttering something incoherent under his breath. “C’mon then, what do you want?”

“I understand the nature of your…wish-granting, 1481.” Lucien starts, seating himself on the chair across the genie. He recalls the first attempts; the genie wasn’t the most cooperative, if at all. He could grant their wishes, yes, but he was always an asshole about it. Wish for a sandwich? He eats it. Wish for an item? He mocks you with it. But Lucien was positive that the genie would help him do something mischievous. “I believe you can help me with this one.”

The genie obviously blanches at being called by his designated number, and even more with the tone in Lucien’s voice. “Uh huh, a promotion? Wanna get those beasties under control? Tough luck, pal. I don’t want to.”

“No,” Lucien waves off, though he puts some steel in his tone. “I’m talking about pranking the whole facility.” He finishes with a smile, hands folded in his lap. The genie gives him an incredulous look at this, taken aback as he stumbled back in the air.

“Say what now?” The genie blurts out, stifling a laughter. “My my, Doctor. What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s April first today.” 

The genie tilts his head, his mouth forming into an ‘o’. “Is there a prank war?”

“No,” Lucien shakes his head. “At least, not an official one. But I’m afraid they’ve waged it against me, and I need your help to win.” He adds, gesturing towards the remaining stain on his shirt sleeves.

“Well!” The genie responds, clasping both hands together as he rubs them with mischief in his eyes. Lucien takes note of this, and assures him he went to the right place. “What do you want then? Let’s flood this facility with acid!”

Lucien holds up a hand to stop him, thinking up a clever plan. He could wish for anything, of course, though there was still a potential risk of the genie doing something worse. Instead, he would wish for something that he could do himself. “Turn me into a ghost.” 

“Huh?” The genie asked him, perplexed. Lucien nods, recalling the incident with the 4973 ghosts. That was certainly one of the worst containment breaches they’ve had, and he thinks it would be hilarious to mess with his colleagues as a ghost. “That’s lame.”

“Just trust me please.” Lucien huffs, though he follows it with a grin at the genie who rolled his eyes. “At least just for today, help me in this and I’ll get you the good stuff.”

The genie’s ears perk at this, then he raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “So you’re bribing me, eh?” He asks, and although Lucien would deny, he relents and nods eagerly. “Okay, whatever.”

Lucien shoots up from his seat at this, beaming, as he pushes away from the table. Plans start to mill about in his head, and he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. “So how do we do this?” 

“Just hold still there, don’t move an inch.” The genie grins, and Lucien feels himself tense up the moment he hears the creature snap his finger. He grins at Lucien, muttering yet again something under his breath as he flies towards Lucien at an incredible speed. His eyes grew wide, watching as the genie rushed to him.

Lucien couldn’t move, could only watch as the genie pushed itself inside his mouth. It was quick, and Lucien’s mouth involuntarily swallowed the entity that slowly slid inside of his person. He feels himself lose feeling all over his limbs, his mind starting to fog, as he felt himself getting torn apart. Once the entirety of the genie had slipped inside of him, he groaned, and closed his eyes. He heaves forward, and feels something untether from inside him.

When Lucien comes to, he feels himself floating in the air. He could see his body idle in front of him, hunched forward. He glances at his hands, which took on a bluish glow and looked nearly transparent. He marvels at this, and zooms around the room a few times—that is, until he sees his body beneath him stretch and crack its neck.

“Wait, 1481?” He exclaims, floating down in front of his body. “What’s happening?”

His body just laughs, and he cracks his knuckles. “I can’t see you, but you got two hours until I give this back.” The genie in his body says, before picking up the cup and striding out of the chamber. “Time to find the goooooood stuff.”

Lucien didn’t give it any more thought, too giddy about the prospect of scaring his colleagues, as he flew towards the ceiling. He phased through it, and found himself in a different hallway.  He had wanted to prank Alvin first, since he was the one stationed closest. He understood that the man’s prank wasn’t grave, though he really was annoyed that he ended up presenting the wrong document to the Site Director.

The hallway wasn’t empty, it had a couple of security people hanging about outside the chambers, chattering excitedly about today. Lucien rolls his eyes, and flies to his left towards Alvin’s office, where he thinks his colleague could be. He knows how organized the man is, and he felt the need to mess around with his office a little. 

He phases through the office door, but was surprised when he found the office lit yet empty. It looked neat as usual, nothing misplaced, and Lucien decided to take this chance. He zooms fast enough through the stacks of paper on the desk, and he watches them fly like confetti in the air. He laughs to himself, before launching his from towards the bookshelf, sending books skittering onto the floor.

Lucien wasn’t quite satisfied, and he had just stuck a ghostly hand inside a locked vault, when he hears humming in the bathroom. His ears perk at this, and a grin spreads along this face—Alvin was most likely in there. He pushes through the wall, and finds himself in the bathroom.

Alvin had just stepped out of the shower, with only a towel draped around his waist. To say Lucien was shocked would be an understatement—he hadn’t seen his colleague this bare before, and he thinks that if he hadn’t been a ghost, he might have gotten too embarrassed, or even turned on.

Instead, he took this opportunity to potentially scare Alvin. Once Alvin had been standing in front of the mirror, Lucien stifles a laugh as he pulls the towel off the man’s waist. It falls, making the man gasp as Lucien’s cool hand barely touches his side. As he picks it up, he stumbles back—and into the floating Lucien.

Lucien couldn’t move back in time, and instead gets sucked into the man’s huge back. It felt like getting pulled in by a blackhole, and he couldn’t fight it. Instead, he feels his feet make contact with the ground, and he stumbles forward but spreads his arms enough to catch himself on the sink.

Lucien blinks, and gasps when he finds himself staring down at the sink, felt its cold sensation on his hands, and the overwhelming feeling of being bare naked. He felt a little confused, and only when he took one step back and lifted his face towards the mirror did he understand what had happened. He gasps, and ties back the towel on his waist before staring at himself.

Turns out the entire ghost thing wasn’t just poltergeist shenanigans, Lucien thought, allowing a smoke to spread through his borrowed face. He checks out Alvin’s body, flexing and gloating at himself, before he lets the towel fall. An idea pops into Lucien’s head just as he watches himself stiffen by the second, and the grin remains on his face even as he tries to stroke it, to get a feeling of it. It was huge, much meatier and longer than his, and the pleasure was undeniable.

It felt good, Lucien had to almost forcefully bite Alvin’s tongue to choke back a moan. He stops himself before getting too indulged, then exits the bathroom with nothing on. He finds the man’s phone on the lab coat that hangs on the coat rack near the door. Lucien grins to himself, before snapping pictures of Alvin’s bare form, then sent it to himself. He could keep this for blackmail, he thinks to himself, and possibly for…other reasons.

Lucien laughed to himself, then felt as if something had already been pushing him out. He groans, wanting to relish Alvin’s body more, but he relents—though not without the cherry on top. He smirks, as he starts to tug on his tool again at a very quick pace, feeling it build up on the base and climb Alvin’s length. He wanted to take a picture, but felt his control slipping fast. 

He makes it to the door, twisting the knob, and opening it just at the right time that he shoots ropes of white, out into the hallway. Lucien only feels the pleasure a little though, as he then immediately gets dislodged from Alvin’s body—who had been moaning the instant Lucien left him, hand still on his member.

Horrified shrieks filled the hallway as two male guards were accompanying two female D-Classes, with Dr. Clef in tow. The guards stationed outside the nearby chambers too, looked on in both shock and amusement. Lucien, in his ghost form, cackles above them as Alvin comes to, confused and shocked at where he was.

“What the fuck, Alvin?” Dr. Clef exclaims, a little annoyed though amused at the sight of Alvin desperately trying to cover himself up. Lucien considers doing the same to Dr. Clef, though, ultimately decides against it and settles on running a ghostly hand across his face, followed by a slap. Lucien does risk one more second to re-possess Alvin instead.

“April’s fools!” He says through Alvin, before exiting his body again. He laughs at the ensuing madness, then drifts down and speeds towards the opposite wing; where Jacob and Karl should be.

On the way, he passes by Dr. Bright, who was giggling to himself whilst waiting for Dr. Sophia Light to round the corner. In his hand, he held another jar of the excrement solution he had; and he was most likely up to no good too. Lucien then speeds forward, hoping to also possess Jack Bright—and this particular vessel that held his consciousness was quite attractive too.

Lucien instead ricochet’s off the man’s back, as if protected by something, and he grumbles when he realizes he’s only succeeded in knocking the man on the ground instead of possessing him. No matter, he thought, rolling in the air and laughing as he found Bright soaked in the contents of his jar.

Time to find the two idiots then, he thinks to himself, before continuing on his zooming. Vague thoughts of what the genie had been doing in his body now, but he pushes the thoughts away for now. He recalls seeing through Alvin’s phone that he spent about an hour in both messing his office up, and the subsequent possession. That felt a little weird, the latter part, so he couldn’t wait to try it out on the two again, though he decided to try Jacob on first.

They weren’t in their offices, nor were they in any testing chambers down there, and it irritated him. Lucien only had a little bit of time left before the genie’s time limit, and he still had two on his list. He changes course, and instead heads towards their living quarters. 

And lo, he finds the two of them in Jacob’s room. They seemed to have just gotten back from an experiment, both still sporting protective spandex that were both halfway off their bodies. Jacob had been talking to Karl about something related to the surfboards in their room and the subsequent experiments on a new SCP. Lucien rubs his ghostly hands together, waiting for the best chance to jump in.

And it was when Jacob was going to take a photo of them both, when Lucien rushes inside him the moment he presses the button on his phone, snapping the picture.

He stumbles forward a little, feeling the rush of sensation fill his new limbs. Lucien hadn't focused on this feeling in Alvin earlier, but he felt extremely satisfied at his spirit filling in another body—it filled him with pleasure as well, and a lone moan escaped the mouth of Jacob’s body, eliciting a curious glance from Karl behind him. 

“Jake, you good?” He hears Karl ask, placing one of his huge hands on Lucien’s bare shoulder. He doesn’t respond quickly though, only smirks a little as he finally had full control of Jacob’s body. He lets one of his hands fall on Karl’s that was on his shoulder, and he throws the phone to his bed.

“I have something to tell you.” He tells Karl. The sound of Jacob’s voice coming out of his throat felt weird, and a little hot, though he perfectly mimics Jacob’s more endearing tones. “Can you come closer a sec?” 

“Yeah?” Karl asked, bending closer. Lucien mentally stifles a laugh, as he turns towards Karl with a sly smirk. The man could only raise an eyebrow and open his mouth, when Lucien pushes forward and locks their lips together. Karl gasps at the contact initially, his skin warming up as Lucien pressed onward, until he gave in.

Part of Lucien enjoyed this, part of him was already laughing inside at what he had done. They made out for a while, breaking apart for only a second, before diving in again. Karl gave in hungrily—and Lucien found it a little funny, since this was supposed to be a prank after all, but he just lets the man have his fun. After a while, they break apart again.

“Wow, that…” Karl starts, a little breathless. If Lucien would admit it, Karl wasn’t the best kisser, though it was kinda hot; and at this moment he felt their warm crotches brush against each other’s, still in their suits. “...since when..?” 

Lucien was dumbfounded, unsure of what to say, though decided to play along for a little more. “Since the moment I laid my eyes on you?” He tries, quoting something he read a while ago and causing Karl to laugh.

“Same.” was all Karl said when he dives in for another kiss, surprising Lucien this time. He gives in too, and they collapse on the bed. He was a little confused with what was happening–this wasn’t part of the plan–though he decided to stay; he was enjoying it after all, even if Karl thought he was really Jacob. 

Soon, all their clothes came off, it wasn’t only until Karl had started to go down on him that he felt that push again, the same feeling he got earlier from Alvin. He wanted to go, though a different idea crossed his mind already overcome with the lustful haze. Instead, he focuses on putting all his spiritual essence down to his tool. Lucien stared at Karl momentarily, before grinning.

With one resolute thrust, he send his ghost flying out of the tip of his member. Karl, who very much had the length in his mouth, gags a little as he involuntarily swallows Lucien’s ghostly form. This was a little different, and Lucien felt it comparable to wearing a huge jumpsuit or coat, and he had full control of Karl in a few seconds.

“K-Karl..?!” He hears above him, Jacob stirring and biting his lip against the oncoming sounds erupting from his throat. “What are you…ahh, fuhh, what happened..?” He tries, back arching as his fists twisted on the bed sheets. Lucien, instead in Karl’s body, only picked up the pace.

What happened next was a weird threeway-esque scenario, or so Lucien thought to himself, momentarily forgetting the original plan. Once he had been pushed out of Karl’s body, he re-possessed Jacob’s. That was when Karl bent down for him to screw; though it wasn’t long until he had been dislodged into Karl’s body again. 

He couldn’t even tell how long nor how many times it happened, just that when the two both lay side by side in the afterglow, his spirit was in a similar state floating above them. All of them panted, and he watched with annoyance how instead of irritation, the two just laughed; they chalked their behavior up to a possible anomalous side effect, and Lucien rolled his eyes at this.

Well, at least he had fun, Lucien thought. He should probably do this again some other time, he adds to thought as he checks the clock that hung above the door. Two minutes before his time was up, he looked back at them to see that both had fallen asleep (along with a dog he hadn’t noticed from earlier). He sees Jacob’s phone, and smirks as he slips back inside the man.

He feels another jolt of pleasure the moment he assumes control, though he only rolls his eyes as he leaves the bed. He sets the mirror up adjacent to the bottom of his bed, aims his camera, and snaps a picture. He sent it to himself, which again, he could possibly use to tease the two and as remembrance.

As if on cue, he finds himself suddenly pulled towards the opposite direction, where the earlier test chamber was. He involuntarily zooms back and through the hallways, accidentally sending people to the ground or scattering papers in their hand like a strong gust of wind just flew by. Then Lucien finds himself in the chamber.

He finds his body passed out on the chair, the genie slowly emerging out of his mouth like a smoky entity—and he looked so out of it. “Thanks for the ride.” The genie tells him, snapping his fingers as Lucien is pulled back into his body.

He didn’t even have time to speak again, when the genie dematerialized and he finds himself inexplicably intoxicated. He silently curses at the genie, before swiping the cup out of the table, and then promptly leaves the chamber.

No matter, he thought to himself, that was the most fun he’s had in months—worth it for the residual high that the genie had left for him in his body. He stashes the cup back inside the containment locker, and he decides to go back to his office to lie down a little.

On the way when he rounds a corner, he crosses paths with a red-faced Alvin, most probably reprimanded from earlier. Lucien finds he couldn’t help himself from laughing, making Alvin tense up a little. Lucien then recalls back to seeing Alvin in his reflection, and finds he’s both aroused and tickled.

“Nice shoot, my dude.” He teases, winking at Alvin, who immediately runs off from him.

Lucien just laughs at him, a sound that the security men around him shared. He stares at the retreating form in the distance, and then at the cup in his hand, thinking and considering the next time he’d be able to be a ghost again—hoping to have fun solely with Alvin this time. 

He shrugs it off though, and continues towards the lockers. 

I couldn’t stop grinning when I woke up today. Maybe it was the sun shining through the window, or the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen, or the strong, virile body I was wearing. I laughed, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of days since I hopped into this host but every moment spent in him was further proof that I had made the correct choice. It hadn’t been easy cornering him but week after week of playing the part of his coworker, slowly gaining his trust, had all finally led to this moment. I strutted around the room, a ridiculous one-man parade, a treat meant only for my eyes. I stood before the mirror and beheld my lovely form, feeling something begin to stir and strain against my briefs as I did so. Oh, did I feel good. But it was still early, there was plenty to do, places to be, and a lot more masquerading to do. I patted my member as it stiffened in its cloth prison. Perhaps, if I still remained unsatisfied at the end of the day.

I opened the door and walked into the rest of the house. Yes, yes, all of it lovely, all of it in order, all of it mine. I strode into the living room to see a young man having breakfast.

"Morning son," I called out in my strong voice. “Thanks for the coffee,” I boomed again as I helped myself to a fresh cup.

He nodded, hesitantly perhaps? I made a mental note of the way he looked at me today, and didn’t like what I saw. Uncertainty, unease. No that wouldn’t do at all. I resolved to be a better father as I walked up to where he sat.

“What are you doing on this fine Saturday?” I said, slapping him on the back as I did so. He winced, but gave a wan smile. “Grandpa’s coming over to pick me up, we’re going fishing.”

My jaw clenched but I continued smiling even as I felt a low, cold fury building up inside me. “He’s coming over?”

A Case of SCP - 738: The Devil’s Deal

(Part Two to “On Second Thought”)

Gavin is roused from his sleep by a light rap on his wooden door; a gentle drumming sound, yet they were loud enough to permeate the dreamy haze and drowsiness that wrapped itself around his head; that, and he knew who it was all too well. “Give me a moment!” He calls out, kicking the blankets off the bed as he pulls himself upright. The bed felt weirdly empty beside him, cold, but it wasn’t a cause for alarm.

He surveys the room with a quick glance—How long has it been? He muses, dashing out of the bed. A year already? To him it felt as if it were only yesterday that he stood in a different dorm, wore a different pair of shirt and boxers, looked at the world through a different lens; and most importantly, in a different body. But by some deal of the devil, his world had been flipped so he walked the carpeted floors that belonged to Jeremy before. 

Gavin unlocks the door and it swings open, greeted by a man much bigger than he is—walking in the body he used to stride in, Gavin smiles as he pulls him in; it was Jeremy. Some deal of the devil it was, yes, but both of them were in on it.

A year ago, he had been Gavin Dean in appearance: one of the university’s top football players. Right now, people see him as Jeremy Greer, a senior majoring in psychology. The real Jeremy who stood before him with an almost chagrin smile plastered on his face, on the other hand, is who people saw now as Gavin Dean. The swap had done them both good, he thinks, and he’s way more comfortable in this new body and identity now.

“I thought I gave you the spare key?” He asked Jeremy, leading him towards the dorm’s sitting room. It was just around eight in the morning, a Sunday, and they plan to take it easy today after Jeremy’s party from last night. “Left it here somewhere.” Jeremy mumbled, nursing a slight hangover as he wrapped his arms around Gavin and nestled his face on the man’s neck—he almost finds it funny, that he was now taller than Gavin after their swap, much bigger, yet the man enjoyed it even if he became a little shorter, and less buff when he ended up in Jeremy’s body. “I missed you.” 

For Jeremy, walking around in Gavin’s body had been the greatest experience; people revered and respected him, men and women alike swarmed him (and although he liked it, he never really indulged any of them), and most of all, people looked at him with envy—at both the body and his fame, he thinks. He didn’t keep Gavin’s old cocky attitude though, in fact, people liked him more now than they felt intimidated before the swap. He’d also taken to wearing glasses (which perched crooked on the bridge of his nose that Gavin fixed), thinking that he looked better with it, and also just to tease Gavin, to whom he’d gradually opened up to and adored with all his heart.

“Well you have me today.” Gavin replied, smirking as he led Jeremy to the couch. He almost stumbles against the heavier man, and he could almost laugh how, a year ago, it was other people struggling to steady his old body, yet now here he was, doing the same thing. “I’ll heat up some coffee to help, I don’t think I have eggs for prairie oyster.” He tells Jeremy once on the couch, moving to stand up.

Gavin would be lying if he said he didn’t miss his old life; but he’d likewise be lying if he said he liked that one better than this one now. Being Jeremy held a lot of charm and comfort for him, more time to explore his hobby of photography, moments that included silence and moments of reverie that he did not have in his old body, he finds he enjoyed this life more than being in the limelight—and it was a bonus for him, that it so happened for him to be in the body of the person that had been driving him crazy (in a good way) since high school.  

“No,” Jeremy protests, hand shooting out to grab Gavin’s wrist. A playful smirk plays on his lips, with a fond twinkle in his mischievous eyes. He pulls Gavin close to him, the man immediately falling seated beside him. “Stay with me for a while.” He adds, nuzzling his face on the man’s hair, taking note of the lemon-scented shampoo he must have used the night before.

Gavin only sighs, and grins to himself as he wraps an arm around Jeremy, content in that position. “Fine, for a bit.” He responds, and they curl up next to each other, thankful that they moved this couch from his old apartment to here.

Unbeknownst to the two, a ghostly form stalked the corners of their ceiling, having flown in the moment they sat down. In his face, was plastered an almost cheshire cat grin, rubbing his palms together as he tried to pick which one should he pick first.

–

Precisely an hour earlier, the ghost of a man bore a name and a body; Conrad Keyes, a junior nobody, who happened to have fallen asleep in whatever room he first found and locked himself within the administrative building. He’d sneaked into the nearby frat house to party the night before, and they chased him until he climbed some ladder in the dark that ended up leading him towards one of the building’s halls—to make matters worse, he was not from around here, rather an outsider from a different university a few blocks from here.

It was only when he heard drumming on what seemed like wood beneath his head, that he snapped awake. In his half-drunken stupor, he almost tumbles out of the chair when he sees a devilishly handsome blonde man clad in a pristine white suit sitting across him, smiling, and it looked as if he were in some weird office with only a few furniture—and come to think of it, he could only see this desk, his chair, and the throne-like seat of the man across him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I was dru—” Conrad blurts out, pushing the chair back to stand up, but the man across him holds a hand up, motioning for him to stay seated. Something in him made him nod, the piercing blue gaze of the person that sat in front of him seemed to order him. “I’m not from around here, I don’t mean to break into—” 

“It’s alright, Conrad.” The blonde finally says, making him clam up with his steely voice. He feels a shiver run up his spine at hearing his name, his jaw unhinging. “Don’t be alarmed, I’m not from here either, yet we’re both in this place.” He smirks, and pulls a drawer open.

“Wait, so what…I mean. Hold on.” Conrad tries, his head still swimming with alcohol. He steadies himself against the desk the same time the man places a stack of papers in front of him. From it, he draws a sheet, then slides it across to Conrad. 

“Let’s make this transaction quick.” The man tells him, folding his hands together. “So you can tend to that hangover quickly.” 

Conrad felt himself about to retch at the sight of the letters jumbled on the paper, but he pushed it down, forehead creased in confusion. Everything was happening fast, his mind racing as he recalled what led to him there last night; the angry senior, the huge frat men chasing him out with a golf club—he didn’t even know how he ended up there, must have tried flirting with a guy, he thinks. So, in the haze that only started to dissipate from his mind, the words that tumbled out of his mouth were: “What is happening?”

The blonde man only laughs, the musical kind of laugh that only sets Conrad’s heart racing, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. “Wish me anything, Conrad. Anything your heart’s desires, though I did make that list to help you.” He replies, pointing at the paper.

Conrad squints at it, and to his surprise, finds them readable. A hundred thousand dollars, a new computer set, a boyfriend (tempting), perfect GPA. The list went on, and Conrad struggled to comprehend, and he looked back towards the man and the list, stuttering, he said: “I’m sorry, is this a prank? How do you know so much about me?” He follows this up by pinching himself. 

The man only tilts his head at Conrad, the corner of his lips pulled into another smirk, before he shakes his head firmly. “No, this is not a prank. I’m the real thing. Try me.”

If Conrad’s head wasn’t pounding or if the man in front of him didn’t confuse him, Conrad might think he may be flirting, but instead he’s filled with both frustration and panic, still unsure of what was happening. He looks at the list again, scans the contents, and decides he should just get it over with. He pushes the paper back to the man, who only offers him a curious glance.

“Listen, I don’t know what your M.O. is, and I’m too woozy to think it through,” He starts, leaning forwards yet the man does not flinch. “I just wanna get out of here, like whoosh, a ghost no one would see because I’m sure some guys are looking for—” 

“So you want to be a ghost? Did I hear that right?” The man asks him, a jar of ink and a quill mysteriously materializing beside the stack of papers. “And you’re willing to pay the equivalent price?” 

Conrad has had enough of this, and so with a frustrated yet in his most resolute voice, he answers, “Yes.”

The man only nods, grinning at him as his quill glided along the paper like it were silk.

“Done.” 

– 

When the man promised Conrad he’d turn him into a ghost, he thought it was a joke. But the more time he spent flying over this foreign campus in his spectral form, the more it felt real. The man disappeared almost as soon as his body collapsed on the desk earlier—and he immediately felt numb all over, displaced from his physical body that he watched crumble like dust in the air. He tried sitting on the chair again, yet he phased through it, free-falling into the lower floors of the building., until he stops, finally feeling the ground solid beneath him again.

That is how Conrad realized, he was truly a ghost—and better yet, he found himself in the possession of another person’s body, a janitor, who was only on his way to clean the office he found himself in. It took him a few minutes, figuring out if he was imagining things, or he really did jump inside the body of another person.

The latter is right, so now after he dislodged himself from the janitor’s body, a thrum of excitement filled his form, and he set out to find the most attractive man on campus to have a little bit of ‘fun’—and that was how he came to be inside a dorm room with two men intertwined on the sofa. He didn’t know them, he’s not from here, but from what he heard from the two mumbling, the hunkier man was ‘Jeremy’, and the cute guy was ‘Gavin’.

He struck the jackpot, he thinks, staring at the two of them—double jackpot, he could easily go for either of them, and he couldn’t pick. The ‘Jeremy’ guy seemed to be out of sorts, and the ‘Gavin’ guy was whispering words to him while they leaned on each other on the couch. Conrad clasps his hands together, and decides to go big first.

He floats down close to the two, just behind them when they’ve gone silent, before he pushes himself inside the body of the huge man—his powerful back swallowed Conrad’s frame quickly, and he feels himself heave forward as he is immediately thrust into the body’s driver’s seat. He must have jumped, because the other man snaps up and gives him a weird look. He also finds ‘his’ glasses have tumbled out of his face.

“You okay?” He asked Conrad, who had full control of Jeremy now, clenching his fists then opening his palms as he soaked in the immense strength and power he felt in this body he’s hijacked. He cracks his neck, relishing at how tight he felt, even the musk and alcohol he could smell from himself—and it turned him on, especially this man beside him.

“Never better.” He tells the Gavin guy, grinning. He could feel the alcohol in this body’s system, albeit a little weaker. Yet it only made him a little frisky, though he suspects it wasn’t all him; this body liked the other man too.

“You’re acting weird,” Gavin tells him, his eyes narrowing, yet Conrad only gives him a shrug, and a quick peck on the lips. The other man, although baffled, blushed and tried to hide a smile as he pulled away and out of the couch. “I—I’ll heat up a pot of coffee, you just stay there…” He tells him, awkwardly pulling his shirt down to hide his obvious stiffness from below.

Conrad only grins, watching the man disappear into the kitchen. As soon as he does, he practically rips the flimsy shirt off himself. Still seated, he spreads his legs and stares at himself. He lets his hands roam around his massive chest, squeezing his pecs along the way, feeling his pants tighten a little; which he undoes, pulling the belt off and tossing it away as he unzips his pants. He grinned, under the brief inside, he could feel his length trying to escape.

He flexed once more, mumbling a “Fuck yeah…” and biting his tongue against a moan. He stood, and marveled at his new height—a tower of a hunk, he chuckled to himself, rubbing his front as he felt it start to leak. Conrad eyes the open balcony, and with a mischievous idea, he walks toward the opening to showcase himself.

Conrad could only laugh as he watched a few students walking by, suddenly finding themselves staring at him with his pants open up there above them, with a sly smirk and a beckoning stance—a couple of them tripped, some blushed and stalked away, and he found one stop in the middle of the conversation to gawk at him; that was how he realized how much he was leaking, and he felt the stickiness over his member, yet he savored the feeling of releasing inside his briefs.

“Jeremy, the fuck are you doing?!” His moment of bliss is cut short as he whirls around to find Gavin with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand. “Are you high?”  He adds, eyeing the mess and wetness in Conrad’s front. His mouth opens, and he places the mug on the coffee table. 

“Hold on—” He tells Conrad, squinting at him as he takes a slight step backwards.  Conrad’s brows furrowed, yet he was smirking, and he looked straight at Gavin’s eyes, seeing in there that the man was trying to think of something. “Jeremy, answer me this.” 

“Of course babe,” Conrad tries, unsure if he did it right, though he laces his tone with a deep drawl that he guesses this ‘Jeremy’ fellow should have, and the flirty tone too. “Ask away.”

Gavin’s brows knit together, watching the man pretending to be Jeremy stand in front of him almost threateningly—he knew he was right before the question even left his mouth, he knew Jeremy wouldn’t be acting all this cocky even if he had spent an entire year in Gavin’s old body. So to confirm, he asks: “What happened exactly a year ago today?” 

Conrad, in all his pretense, couldn’t answer quick enough. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t have access to Jeremy's memories—so he takes a quick guess, what else do couples celebrate yearly? He grinned confidently, answering: “Our anniversary, of course.”

“You’re not Jeremy.” Gavin answers almost instantly, backing off a few steps, eyes darting around as he tries to comprehend what had happened. “What did you do to him?” He threatens, and though he rummages  through his mind how it could have happened, all his thoughts circle back to the devil, their negotiator,  from the administrative building.

“What do you mean?” Conrad responds after a while, an incredulous expression plastered across his face, taken aback at the man’s guess. “I am Jeremy.” He affirms, though even he didn’t sound like he believed it—in fact, he didn’t even know this body’s entire name.

“Get out of him,” Gavin nearly yells, guessing that somehow it had something to do with the negotiator. “I don’t know how you did it, I know you wished for it, but leave us alone.” He adds.

Conrad’s brows shoot up, though a little confused as to how the man seemed to know what had happened. The jig is up. He tells himself, and though he wants to hightail out of there, another idea crosses his mind. He smirks, and pretends to raise his hands in defeat, shaking his head. “Fine, fine. I just couldn’t resist the stud.” He says, and the man across him grew angrier. “I’ve had my fun here though, time to test you out.” 

“What—” was all Gavin managed to say as he watched for a split-second a phantom rise out of Jeremy’s skin as if splitting from him, a weird overlaid picture of someone he does not recognize, and then it raced towards him.

Conrad shoved his form even forcefully through Gavin’s chest, causing him to stumble backward a little and groan as he tried to fight the ghost off—a fight he couldn’t win, and soon the man had been fully under Conrad’s possession. He felt a strange triumphant laugh bubbling from his throat, and he let it out as he watched Jeremy collapse on the floor, unconscious.

Conrad twisted his neck a little, and popped his knuckles. This body isn’t as huge as the last one, yet he somehow felt nearly the same tightness he had in the other body a while ago. The shirt clung tight on his body too, as did the thin boxer briefs he wore. He grinned, and looked for a mirror somewhere—whilst touching himself in various places, of course.

He finds one in the bathroom; and although he’s seen this body through Jeremy’s perspective, watching his reflection was another thing, He peeks under the shirt, and grins triumphantly at the nearly toned body underneath. He looks at his reflection again, and does a playful pose, chuckling in the process.

His eyes drift once more towards the length that stirred below. Conrad raises an eyebrow, and puts a hand down to squeeze it, eliciting a gasp from him as he throws his head back, followed by a moan escaping his mouth. He felt a little bashful all of a sudden, and he knew the feeling was not his, yet he chose to ignore it as he started working on it with one hand dipping inside.

“Fuck yeah, this is amazing.” He moans to himself, staring at his reflection, as well as nuzzling his face on his biceps, taking in the smell. He picks up his pace, groaning incoherently at every stroke, until at last he feels the build up at the base of this borrowed member, climbing up its length, until—

Conrad doesn’t finish—or better yet, he was forced not to. With a quick sharp blow at the back of ‘his’ head, he collapses on the floor nearly the same time as the body starts to shoot ropes. At the sudden black out, the body collapses unconscious, feeling his ghostly form instantly pushed out.

Behind him, Jeremy stood clutching a hardbound book in both hands. He drops it to his side immediately, before rushing down to grab a groaning Gavin from the ground. Conrad is dumbfounded, floating above the two with an exasperated expression at the ruined climax, and astonishment as to how Jeremy had forcibly pushed him out of Gavin’s body.

In the small rays of sunlight that slipped through the small window, Jeremy could see the translucent form of Conrad. He knew, of course, that his body had been possessed—it was like getting shoved towards his own body’s passenger seat, watching as someone else moved him, and he disliked it. This body was Gavin’s that the man entrusted to him, he thinks, and he wasn’t just giving it up to some ghost. “I can see you there,” He says threateningly, shaking Gavin awake as he pulls the man up. “Try that shit again and you’re toast. Buzz off!” He adds, remembering the man from the admin building—he told himself he could go ask the devil for protection later.

“What in the name of…” Conrad mutters to himself, shocked, but he recovers quickly. “I don’t need your permission.” He says, another smirk spreading across his face as he dives towards Jeremy.

Jeremy has lost sight of Conrad’s ghost at this point, and doesn’t hear the man. More importantly, he doesn’t hear Conrad’s ghost ricochet off his back, as if repelled, much to the specter’s surprise. As Jeremy roused and carried Gavin to the couch, Conrad tries again, but this time towards Gavin—at which he failed again, and he stalked away as he watched the two men mumble among themselves.

Conrad, in his pissed off state, flies out of the dorm and floats over the campus again. If he couldn’t have his fun with the two, then he’d find another guy to use for his enjoyment.

And it doesn’t even take him long to find a rather handsome and much older fellow walking around the grounds. He grins, guessing that the man might be a professor or something, and the prospect of hijacking one excited Conrad so much, so he found himself flying down to sink into the man’s flesh, thinking of the many fun ways he would spend his haunting days with.