This choice: Just pretend you are Dana. • Go Back...Chapter #4Just pretend you are Dana. by: Seuzz   It's Saturday, and there is no need to get up right away. But you feel eager to get on with your new life. So even though it is still early you rise and head into the bathroom. You turn on the shower, then decide to take a bath instead.
The hot, soapy water feels wonderful on your sensitive skin. You run your fingertips over your bare arms and the insides of your slim thighs. Dana hasn't the knockout figure of a cheerleader-type, but she is taut and well built, and with one hand you lightly touch the shallow scoop of her bellybutton while cupping a breast with the other. Your nipples harden, and you gasp as you give one of them a tweak that is a little too hard. So you relax and just lightly touch and message them until a shuddering thrill runs through your body. You feel a pleasurable glow between your legs, and run a hand across the top of your pussy. You are rewarded with a lovely throb, and you begin to stroke harder. The pulses come irregularly, but they quicken, and you thrust your fingers inside yourself. Something like a small explosion goes off inside you, and you arch your back and bite your lower lip. You twist your hips so as to clench your fingers more tightly, even as you massage the sensitive membranes. There's a tender, trembling moment; then you sink down further into the tub.
You spend a lot of time drying off as well, so that you can admire your shimmering body in the mirror. Your black hair, still wet, hangs down almost to your shoulders: a lovely sight as you study yourself shyly. You hug your stomach with one arm and your breasts with another, raising your hand to lightly rub your neck. You've always liked looking at this body, and wanted to hold it close to you; now you are inside it and hugging it. The thought excites you, and you close your eyes, hold yourself more tightly, and suck on your lower lip.
The moment is interrupted by a knock at the door. "Aren't you done yet?" a petulant voice whines. "Some of us have to use the toilet, you know."
"Hang on," you say, and quickly pull your pajamas on again. Sarah glowers at you as you open the door and brush past her.
You'd like to dress up in something sexy, but you worry that might be out of character. Even though you can pick up on Dana's memories when you concentrate, they don't come quickly or naturally, and you've no real feel for your personality. You decide you'd better play it conservatively. So you just pull on some cotton athletic pants and a t-shirt. You have a little difficulty with the bra; Dana knows you it works, but her memories can't really guide you, because she has long since ceased paying attention to how it all hooks together. But you eventually get it solved.
Mr. Pak gives you a questioning glance over the newspaper when you come down. "You have PE today?" he asks in a slightly mocking tone.
"I just wanted to be comfortable this morning," you reply. He grunts lightly, and you go into the kitchen, where you ... oh, yes, you pour out Dana's usual breakfast of corn flakes. You eat silently and try to avoid conversation.
Sarah comes down soon after, still pouting. "Do I have to go to Aunt Kiku's?" she says with a whine in her voice. "Joanna called and wants to go to the mall."
Mrs. Pak's face is a mask. "Is it that you'd rather go with Joanna or that you don't want to see your aunt?"
Sarah slouches in her chair. "Both." She crosses her arms.
Her mother sighs. "I guess we can make an excuse," she says reluctantly.
You do a little digging. "Joanna," of course, is your own sister, who is Sarah's best friend. Aunt Kiku is Mrs. Pak's sister, a old busybody whose house smells funny. There's a family get-together being held over there. You wince at the thought of trying to play Dana in front of a lot of strangers who shouldn't be strangers. "Can I skip it too?" you ask.
That earns you a look from both of Dana's parents. "You're both going to go," says Mr. Pak firmly. "We can make an excuse for one of you, but if both of you skip then it really does look like you don't want to see your aunt or cousins."
Sarah gives you a dark look. "Way to screw it up for us," she growls, and leaves the table before her father can reprimand her.
* * * * *
The afternoon is harrowing. All of Mrs. Pak's brothers and sisters are there, with all their progeny. You're cornered on more than one occasion by a cousin whose name you have to dredge up quickly, and you have no idea how to act around them. You accidentally piss off a cousin named Kaylee—a girl slightly older than Dana—by being very cool to her, and you're very nice to a young boy named George, whom (you later learn) Dana loathes the sight of. You're standing by the buffet table making chit-chat with a third cousin named Yumi (who is Dana's age) when Aunt Kiku herself comes up to you. "Tell me what's new with you, Dana," she says, and her voice has a pointed, inquisitorial tone to it. "Have you started seeing any nice boys recently?"
"They're all nice," you reply, looking away from her. She has a moustache problem, and the sight of it makes you queasy.
"Well, you're not doing anyone any favors by holding aloof," she says. "What happened to that Walter boy?" Walter? You just shrug; it's too taxing to try putting a face and history with the name.
"Dana is very particular," Yumi says, coming to your defense. "She's not going to go out with just anybody."
"Yeah, I don't want to act like a cheerleader or something," you mutter. Out of the corner of your eye you see Yumi turn very pink, and her mouth curls into a frown. Too late, it comes to you that Yumi is herself on the cheerleading squad at the other high school. Your heart, already heavy from earlier screw ups, sinks lower; Yumi is one of the few people at the get together that you actually find yourself liking.
She continues to watch you coolly with her arms folded while Aunt Kiku gives you a little lecture about not letting the good ones get away. You cover your own silence by picking up lots of random crap from the buffet table and cramming it in your mouth. When she finally turns away to go persecute someone else, you look over at Yumi apologetically. "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it like that."
Her face softens slightly, but doesn't look any less sour. "I know," she says. "It's just the stereotype." She glances down at the canapé you're holding. "I thought you were allergic to crab."
You look down at it too, and think. Oh, shit. And it's one of the items you've been shoveling away. You thought the queasy sense in your stomach was just nervousness, but is it more than that? "I hate these family obligations," you snarl.
Yumi laughs curtly. "Well, making yourself sick is one way of getting out of them early, I guess."
* * * * *
The wrenching feeling in your stomach gets worse as the afternoon wears on, and it's not improved by the swerving ride back home in the back seat of the family sedan. Mr. Pak has barely got the front door open before you're inside and dashing upstairs to the bathroom. You've only the presence of mind to close the door behind you before most of your stomach contents hurtle up into your mouth. You lean over the toilet and let it all pour out.
You are dizzy and shaking when you are done. There is also something wrong with your vision. Even though you can see the bathroom, it is doubled with another and very disorienting sight: walls, hard and white and curved, rising around you. You lean back over the toilet, in case more food is about to come out of you, and are shocked to find yourself looking into Dana's face, which seems to looming largely over you.
You blink. Down inside the toilet, floating in the ugly vomit, is a blue, snake-like thing, about the size of a man's erect cock. You gasp. You are looking down at a piece of your own body inside the toilet bowl—and, you realize, you are looking up from inside the toilet bowl at your possessed body. Your sense of disorientation is caused by being able to look at the world simultaneously out of Dana's eyes and out of this little bit of your body that's escaped.
Gingerly, you reach down and pluck the worm out of the mess; as you lift it up, you also see the world "rise" about you. Slowly, you carry it over to the sink and wash it off; as the "worm," you also feel the water rushing all about you. You concentrate, and find that you can operate the worm as well, and you send it slithering over your wrist and up your arm. It is fascinating to watch.
Back in your bedroom, you concentrate and find you can expel a large number of these worms, of varying sizes. The squirm all over the desk as you concentrate on moving them, and you are even able to divide the larger ones and combine the smaller ones. If you let little worms out of yourself, and are able to control them when they are not connected to you, could you put one into another person and control two bodies at once?
Your gaze has traveled over to the window, and through it you glimpse a cat creeping along the flower beds in the back yard. Seized with curiosity, you scoop up one of the worms you've loosed and run down to the kitchen, where you pour some milk into a bowl and take it into the back yard. The cat has disappeared from sight, but you suspect it is still close by, so you set the saucer down and drop the worm into it. You're startled to see that the worm quickly loses its characteristic blue color and fades to a milky white. You go and hide around a corner.
You keep the part of yourself in bowl lurking near the bottom; a few minutes pass and you see a sharp pink tongue pierce the surface. You rise, snag it, and quickly scuttle up and into a mouth and down a throat. You sense a great confusion and terror, and then a new view of the world—one that is very low to the ground, and that contains sharper smells and sounds—opens up to you. It is, of course, a familiar view, being rather like the one you had when you were running the wolf last night.
You are a little unsteady on your feet as you walk over to the cat, and the disorientation is made worse by the fact that you are looking at yourself as you approach: at one and the same time, you see a teenage girl with long dark hair and a cat with long, silky white fur. You scoop the cat up and cradle it to your chest, which lessens the disorientation, though it is odd that you can feel the cat in your arms and also feel yourself being held by them. You set the cat to purring. "Oh, you are a pretty girl, aren't you?" you coo as Dana.
Of course, you decide you'd like to experiment with capturing another human body, but your hold on Dana is tenuous enough that you think it best to practice on running a human and an animal first, so you drop the cat to the ground and trot it along next to you as you go over to a nearby park. There, you pace around, watching the cat and watching the traffic while at the same time prowling your cat body around. It becomes easier to control when you start thinking of it as another appendage—a discontiguous part of your body—and even the bifurcated senses of sight and smell and touch become natural and manageable as you gradually come to associate these sense with the different bodies. As the sun sets you feel confident enough to send the cat trotting off back to its home even as you return to Dana's.
It would be easiest to try possessing Dana's sister during the night; and through her you could find out what your own family is thinking and doing. That would probably be the smartest play, and in the back of your mind you had been giving some thought about shifting, at least temporarily, into Sarah precisely so you could sound out Joanna about the doings at your house. But if you can possess multiple people, you can take Sarah while still remaining in Dana. You're more excited by the prospect of adding other people, though: school friends or acquaintances, for instance.Your mind also travels back to Yumi; it would be easy to catch up to her tomorrow, if you wanted.
Well, there's nothing that says you can't do all this, and more; but there is always a first step.  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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