Lorelei's Note: This story features cisboy, cisgirl and transgirl POVs and contains nonconsensual sex, ghost possession, hypnosis, and everything else listed in the tags. Real-life con-noncon requires a lot of trust, safewords, and other things a fantasy can fudge a little. Enjoy the kink responsibly, and enjoy the story!
This short series is part of a collaboration I'm doing with the amazing artist Shozaya, and Moira, Lucy and Ben are her characters! Check out her comics sometime!
~ ~ ~ ~
"That's quite a pair you've got there, hon."
Ben looked up from his book, startled, then glanced down bashfully. "Um, thanks, ma'am."
"Not a compliment." The bus driver turned back to raise an eyebrow at him, her wizened face looking distinctly unimpressed. "When you got on I thought you were wearing dead white rats strapped to your feet. How old are those things, anyways?"
"U-Um..." Ben flushed. The bus rattled and rumbled as it made its way down the old country road, so loud he almost felt like he could retreat into it, let his answer be swallowed in the din. But the bus driver was waiting, and worse, her eyes were off the very bumpy road while she waited. He gulped. "They're a few years old. I just do a lot of running."
"In those things? They look like something died in 'em."
Ben squirmed as a couple regulars on the bus laughed. The bus driver seemed unamused, though.
"Better lay off him, Donna," rasped an older man towards the back. "Don't mind her, kid, she just likes to needle new riders."
"I'm just asking." Donna shrugged. She steered the bus around a bend with one hand, not turning to look. Ben's heart lurched, even though surely she'd driven this road enough times to know it by heart and there was no real danger. Right? "I don't get why someone would wear shoes that look like something died in 'em, is all."
"I just..." Ben looked down at his own feet, eyeing the tattered old running shoes. "They're, you know. Good luck."
"Not for the possums they skinned to make 'em."
Ben's cheeks burned. "Look, I just--"
"I'm just curious, is all." The bus driver's head tilted. "I have never seen a pair of shoes that old. I didn't think they even made them like that anymore. Were they your grandmother's shoes, or something?"
"My stop!" Ben blurted, and tugged on the line.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Wow. That was... impressively embarrassing."
"Look, I panicked, alright?"
"It's a good thing I'm immune to second-hand embarrassment."
"Why are you like this?"
"Like what? Oh, did you not get it? It's funny because--"
"
Yes I get it ha-ha very funny Lucy.
"
Lucy giggled. The translucent blue spirit shimmered in the dim morning light as she raised her right arm--showing off the clean-cut stump. "So, you know this isn't our stop, right?"
"Yes, I know."
She flitted to the other side of him, but a thin wispy trail continued to connect her to his shoes. "Nnnot even close."
"Look, I..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I didn't realize we were still out of town. I was a little out of it when the driver started
interrogating
me about your ratty haunted shoes, and I figured I could just catch another bus and... avoid an awkward conversation."
"Hm." Lucy looked around mock-innocently. The shapely ghost's long ponytail flicked behind her and danced in a nonexistent breeze. Framed against the deep green of the vast evergreen forest behind her, her glowing form, totally naked, was especially easy to spot--which actually made Ben a little nervous about her being out and about this close to the road. "Well, gosh, Ben, I sure don't
see
any buses coming~"
He rolled his eyes. "You know, you
could
have just possessed a nicer pair of shoes, so I wouldn't always be getting stares."
"I'm not the one who never takes them to get fixed up!"
"I am ninety-nine percent sure that nobody below the age of ninety bothers getting their old running shoes 'fixed up'."
Lucy hesitated, then gave a sheepish laugh. "Okay, I'll ease up."
"
Thank
you." Ben snorted. It's not that he didn't like Lucy. She was his friend, and a great running coach, and she had a knack for making him laugh. But sometimes this restless spirit had a little too much recklessness for him to deal with.
"But you better look into the one-percent-unsureness." She folded her arms across her chest. "I bet you anything there's ten nerds on Ehsi who'll do it for twenty bucks and a good review."
"Yeah, and I'm sure the postal service won't mind shipping a pair of
haunted tennis shoes
."
"I could stay in the box!"
"Lucy, I'm pretty sure I've never seen you stay in the same place for more than thirty seconds." Ben hopped gingerly down off the road into the grasses, careful to avoid the brambles and poison oak growing everywhere, and started making his way into the shadowy woods. "You always either start zooming around like a cat on catnip, or you get really, really..."
He bit his tongue.
"Hm?" Lucy cocked her head, flitting up in front of him, then flying around behind. "Really what?"
"N-Nothing." Ben cleared his throat, turning to face her and hoping his cheeks only felt hot under the late afternoon sun. "Let's just get moving."
"Mm, I don't think so~" Lucy raised an eyebrow, darting to his other side again and back out of sight. "You had something to say!"
Ben shifted uneasily, turning to keep his eyes on the cute ghost girl. "No, I didn't," he started, internally cursing the slight tremble to his voice, "I just, um, was saying--"
"Was saying something?" She batted her eyelashes, leaning in close the second he had her back in his sights. "Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt. You know, you clearly know best."
Ben flinched back. "I-I was just--"
"But maybe you'd like my
help
," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "C'mon, Ben."
"I-I--what?"
"It's a long walk back." She smiled innocently. "Might as well borrow some of my energy while I've got it."
Ben swallowed. He looked at her hand, then took it, trying to quell his nerves. "Okay, I-I guess that's fair."
Lucy beamed. "Of
course
it is," she sang.
Her hand started to vibrate against his. She crouched, then took a diving leap right into Ben's torso, pulling him into her as she did so. The ghost rushed into his being, and in an instant, she was gone.
Only she wasn't, of course.
Ben never got used to this feeling--the feeling of being swept down a fast-flowing river, only to be plucked into a tranquil eddy, tucked away in peaceful half-slumber while Lucy took over. He never got used to the way it made his whole spirit seem to flutter and tingle and buzz like a honeybee trapped in its own honey.
With one last deep vibrant hum, like his body and soul were guitars being strummed in harmony, he realized he had lost all power over his own body.
It wasn't like being paralyzed, exactly. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling at all. It was more like... drifting. Like being too lost in daydreams to remember himself, only the daydreams were watching his own body.
Their own body.
Lucy's presence in Ben's body shifted it physically, too. Ben could feel all the sensations of their breasts expanding, their curves redistributing. Ben was naturally of a fairly slender build, aside from a pair of powerful legs, but Lucy's presence widened their hips, enhanced their already generous thighs and calves, in a feeling like being placed in a vibrating chair.
And at last, Lucienne giggled and gave a great, big stretch, showing off her newly curvaceous figure. "Gosh, I
never
get tired of that," she chirped, admiring the way her own fingers clenched and unclenched. "Never get used to not being able to float, either, though."
"
We should get moving, though,
" Ben reminded her, his mental voice tinged with unease. He could feel Lucy's spirit humming with excitement inside them.
"Aw, well, hang on a second, Ben." Lucienne's voice came out silky and smooth as her hands ran down her sides and up under her shirt, stroking lovingly over the smooth skin of her midriff. Internally, Ben shivered. "I don't see that much hurry. It's a long,