You turn the key left.
Like a magic trick, the suit began to squirt out colourless fluid, reminding you of the fun you had just had. It soaks through the visible clothes like an inflating bubble..
You drop to Jenna's knees to get a closer look and see, to some surprise, that it was not liquid as you knew it. Like a plastic or cellophane wrapper. Then, it constricted and became thin, gluing the bra, panties, hose and maybe even the heels to the suit. The sheen disappears as if whatever the suit had secreted had been fully withdrawn now.
CLICK.
The key suddenly twists to neutral position and eases itself out of the hole.
You take the key into your hand, feeling noticeable warmth on it's surface. How strange. You put the key in your mouth, between Jenna's teeth, you think.
You straighten up the body, feeling the extra weight of the heels, but admiring how cleanly the clothes had stayed attached. You had been certain the bra and heels at least would have slipped to the wrong position on the suit, but no, Damn. How good would it be to wear a suit like that. Since Jenna was fused to you, you could wear Tutor over the top of her and probably not feel any difference. Or you could try to use the key to take Jenna off and swap suits, or maybe even wear Jenna on top of Tutor.
Shudder. Maybe that decision would be too much for now. It would be better to try and see what was possible before making any rash decisions. Besides, it might be a bit lewd to keep this woman without a skirt or top. Maybe some of Jenna's clothes might fit. It was well worth trying, just in case.
Enough thought.
You could barely contain your excitement as you slip Jenna's body into the opening of your new bodysuit. It's an easy fit. Jenna's body was small, this one was larger. The sensations of the suit still excite you and you feel slightly more moist underneath the suit. You tug the legs up in one go, flick the top half over your back, and slide your arms into the sleeves, your hands only reaching Tutor's forearms. You spit the key onto the suits left arm-piece and struggle to find it with both hands. Fiddling with it in frustration, you pull down the hollow mask and push the key into the neck-hole.
You remember that this was one of the best bits, but brace yourself for discomfort, pain and generally overwhelming sensations.
NUMBNESS!
CONCUSSION?
DON'T FAINT.
Your head wobbles and spins as you fight the expected feeling, no caught unaware this time.
You focus hard on the numbness. To see if you can control it. You can't.
Slam.
No, you couldn't stay upright. You force yourself to try to feel the jolt, the reverberations, but no.
The paralysis subsides.
You had crashed forwards. That was all. But the wave, the lead-blanket feeling was retained even with your body-stacking.
It worked.
You could stack every woman in the world onto you, every teenage girl, every teacher.
Your mouth slackens, yet you could tell it had stretched downwards and the skin tightened around it. Hard lips had formed. You concentrate as hard as possible on your teeth. They were in better shape now, they were Tutor's. How did that happen? Was there some way that the suit had compressed Jenna's mouth inwards before imploding it's own. That would make some sense. But what would that mean for removing the suit. Would you just be de-crushed, like a spring made of smart memory metal? Would it be heated? Was that what the chemical secretions were, an undiscovered smart material. The substance that could manipulate temperature and pressure, causing whatever was inside the suit to reduce its volume. It would hurt if it wasn't for what was probably anaesthetic mixed in with it all. Was that why the key was warmer? No, if that was right it would be scorching. Thousands of Kelvin, burning your skin. Maybe it was coated in agents to reduce the effects of heat. Maybe it cooled itself with something. What the hell. It couldn't be magic. That key had to have scientific properties that could revolutionise the world. Humanity could be saved.
Wait.
If...
If this suit had overrun your previous self, were you thinking in Tutor's brain. That could explain this inquisitiveness. But had you replaced Jenna's kindness or libido or innocence or whatever the hell she brought to the table. You hyperventilate and drool, panting like a dog.
Drool. Was this from Tutor's salivary glands? Did it smell different from Jenna's. No, stupid, all saliva smelt more or less the same. Anyway, Jenna's cum didn't come from your testicles. Cum. Come. Hilarious.
What about the thumping heart? Whose heart was that? The heart. Not yours or Jenna's, the heart had to be Tutor's. But then where were you stored? And, if you had used someone with heart disease, you would get that disease, and probably die during this phase of the transformation. Avoid girls with heart conditions. Still about 2.5 billion eligible right. You glance down at the magnificent chest. The snow-white bra, though, you expected to feel it constricting your whole breasts. Covering them. But instead, it is light, weightless, natural. Normal.
You anticipated erect nipples underneath, but you didn't even feel nipples there. Your torso leaps in reaction to collision with the ground.
The heels were the weirdest though. It was as if nerve endings had grown out through the foot and into them. You could feel no join between flesh and plastic. But the plastic responded to the temperature and the fall. The. Plastic. Heel. Hurt.
The movement in the ankle was limited, and you couldn't flex your toes with your feet any more. Your legs were trapped in hose.
Through soft layers of hair, you cover your ears, which ring violently on the inside at a ridiculous high pitch.
Then pain. Convulsion. Unable to scream, you throw your head and neck forwards, but your voice is still stuck, caught in your new throat.
The wave. That was the only way to describe it. In Jenna it been in the eyes. Momentary blindness followed by blinding light. Light that brought immeasurable instantaneous pain to your body. This was worse.
You heard a rip, a tearing sound you did not understand. Your eyes popped. It was just like that. They popped.
Then vibration. Not so much painful as intense. Pounding the sockets where you weren't sure if your eyes still were. The light was manageable this time. And the pain. But fear. Fear and trembling. Like an electric rod had been stuck in both eyes. Or a chainsaw was being driven into his brain.
An unmistakable buzz.
One that was curious. Yes. Dramatic. Yes. Horrific. YES
Thrashing and crying like a little girl. Screaming for Mommy, for Heaven, for God. Anything.
You think of the masturbation. That calms you. Your voiceless shaking ceases. The torture, the pain-free agony. Ceases.
You don't feel your tights. You are your tights. They were not a second layer of skin on your legs. But THE skin on your legs. You had no awareness of the underwear. It was neither part of the hose or part of you or an independent entity. It was just there. For show.
You slurp up the strings of hot saliva from your mouth as you sit up and ogle your mature form. Boobs. Check.
You touch the sensitive area between her legs. You believed that there would be pleasure felt underneath. But you only felt it on the surface of the tights. They felt good. Really good. Like a vagina. Like Jenna's vagina.
Rubbing harder makes the pleasure increase.
Like masturbation.
But clean.
You got all the feedback of an orgasm. But nothing got wet. But it was just as good. If not better. If not more.
You drag yourself over to the table. You position your crotch against it and hump the table.
Bang.
Hallelujah.
Bang.
Hallelujah.
BANG!
HALLELUJAH!!
Orgasm.
But nothing comes out.
Nothing need turning on. You could go all day. Forever. Until death.
Why not?
This was it. The ultimate feeling. What more could you want? What more could you need?
You can't.
You rush to grab the rogue pencil on the table and stab at the groin as hard as possible. The pencil cracks in half and breaks.
You jump onto the table and -crack- you ride on shattered fragments of wood.
If you wore gloves, then fused them to the suit using the key (right-left) you could be unstoppable.
Jenna had a pair of them in her room.
Yet, the power could be too much, it could corrupt you. It could destroy you.
Where would you go anyway? You run upstairs. Finding it as easy to walk in heels as it was to walk on feet. Even if the pressure distribution of force between the toe and the heel was odd at best. You got used to it on the way up the stairs and go into Jenna's room. You open her wardrobe and, there, at the bottom, next to some boots, were her gloves. You would put these on soon anyway and see if you could add them to the suit. But first, you could add make-up and lipstick to the suit and bond that to make Tutor's face indestructible too and get the Taxi to take you somewhere. Or see what you could do with the gloves now and go outside on your sex-rampage.
Money. Strength. Intelligence.
It was fantastic
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