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Empathin

By Melody Mounier

Chapter 1

Jack ran his fingers over the small bandage at the base of his neck. He found the edge and peeled it back.

“See anything?” he asked.

“It’s healed perfectly,” Evelyn answered, and Jack felt her finger press gently against his skin, feeling for scar tissue. “There’s not even a bump anymore.”

“Your turn,” he said, turning to face her. Evelyn smiled up hesitantly, then turned away, lifting her silky blonde hair to expose the nape of her neck. Jack peeled off the small circular bandage, exposing pale, smooth, unmarred skin.

“It’s like it never happened,” he said thoughtfully.

Evelyn let her hair down and turned back to face Jack. “The injectable implant was more expensive, I know, but I like that it leaves no trace. I think it was worth it. This is private, between us,” she said, pressing her palms against his chest as she drew closer, gazing up at him. “No one needs to know that we’ve chosen to share ourselves this way. To see through each other’s eyes.”

“No second thoughts?” Jack asked, wrapping his arms around her.

She shook her head. “I’m nervous, but no, I don’t have any regrets. We’ve talked this through, and I’m absolutely willing to give this a try.” She laughed. “Second thoughts are kind of beside the point anyway; we both have Empathin implants now, it would be a waste not to try them.”

“You have the implant keys, Evelyn,” Jack said. “You can back out any time you like, turn them off, kick me out of your sensorium.”

Evelyn smiled. “I appreciate that. Are you ready to turn them on?”

They decided to sit in the dining room for the initialization sequence. Evelyn had the instructions spread out before her and was reading the initialization steps off. Evelyn was a programmer by trade and Jack usually left this kind of thing to her. He sipped his coffee between steps as he followed her spoken instructions.

“Step three: focus on the virtual schematic and insert your partner’s key into the acceptance sphere.”

Floating in the space just before Jack’s eyes was a milky white sphere, a figment of his imagination spun to life by the implant. A virtual key floated alongside the sphere, rotating on its long axis. He imagined the key sliding into the sphere and just like that, the key obeyed his visualization, lifting upward and slipping into its opaque surface.

IMPLANTS PAIRED. The sphere winked out. YOU HAVE GIVEN PRIMARY SENSORY CONTROL TO IMPLANTEE EVELYN BRIGHTMAN. PLEASE CONFIRM BY THINKING “YES”.

Jack gave his affirmation mentally, and the words faded away.

Jack began to feel, at the edges of himself, physical sensations ghosted over his own. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Evelyn curling her fingers over the sheet of instructions, and he distantly felt paper under his own fingers.

Evelyn smiled, and Jack felt the corners of my mouth turn upward in response.

“Here,” she said, “I can tamp down the connection to nil, like this.” She didn’t do anything that Jack could see, but he felt the connection drop completely. “Feel anything?” she asked.

“No, just myself.”

“Okay. So this is pretty configurable, Jack. I can set this so that what we feel is a merged blend of our bodily sensations, but we’re still primarily seated in our own bodies. That’s what most people use it for.”

Jack nodded. Empathin implants were becoming more common as a sex enhancer, because if you can literally feel your partner’s arousal levels there’s a feedback loop that starts to build, and it’s supposed to be pretty intense. “But not what you want to use it for.”

“Or you, Jack. I’ve been curious, but you’ve wanted something like this since you were a kid. Don’t play like this is mainly for me. You dream of being female. This is the safest way to try it; I don’t want you doing Empathin pairing with escorts. If you’re going to body swap it’s going to be with me, in a safe environment, with a body you know, and where I know your own body is in good hands - mine.”

Jack smiled. They’d talked this through at length before getting the implants. “I love you, Evelyn.”

“And I love you, Jack. I’ve thought of how I want to prepare for this, so here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to wait down here, while I get ready. You can do whatever you want but keep your clothes on, please.” Evelyn rose. She bent down and kissed Jack hungrily. “This is actually kind of a turn on. See you soon!”

Jack busied himself in the kitchen for awhile. He heard the shower turn on upstairs. Some time later the water turned off, and there was the soft sound of her padding around barefoot. He resisted the urge to go check out what she was up to.

A good half hour had passed, and Jack was beginning to wonder what was up. He was in the living room, sprawled on the couch, reading on his tablet and occasionally cocking his ear for the sound of Evelyn moving about.

Then he felt a warning tingle all across his skin. It was a very brief precursor, because unlike the first time when they had merged their senses, Jack was quite suddenly someone different.

Chapter 2: Eve

He was on his elbows and knees, his blonde hair hanging around his face, obscuring his vision. Evelyn had put a mirror on the floor with a typed note, so the first thing Jack saw was Evelyn’s face staring back up at him, looking as surprised as he felt.

He breathed in deeply, his heart racing with the suddenness of the change, and felt Evelyn’s breasts sway heavily under his ribcage. There was a thick scent of perfume in the air that he couldn’t place. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and picked up the note. He read.

“I’m going to call you Eve, dear, because for the next two days that’s who you’re going to be. Not Evelyn - that’s who I am, my life in that body. Eve. Eve is my body with the mind of Jack inside, but Eve isn’t allowed to call herself anything but the name I’ve just given her. I want you calling yourself that in your own mind, dear.

“This is true not just in the bedroom but everywhere. We have the whole weekend and my plan is that we will spend it more or less as each other. I’m going to go by the name John. I reserve the option to back out if it gets really awkward - the sex or anything else - but I want to set a baseline so you know what to expect.

“We both know this experiment is primarily for us to explore your fantasies. If it works out, I’m open to seeing you transition - I do like girls a lot as you know, and could see us as wife-wife instead of husband and wife.

“Here’s the surprise: I wasn’t sure how well I’d cope with being in a male body, so I did some research looking for ways to make this experience smoother for me. I found out that Empathin implants can have behavior mods applied, and some of them are explicitly for that purpose of body-mind fit.

“I’ve chosen a few for myself that will make me much more comfortable in male skin. If the advertising’s accurate I’ll probably respond to being male much the same way you will to being female - it’ll be pleasurable - but I should also feel completely and naturally masculine, as if I were born male. However there is one mod I applied that I should call out: it’s going to make me much more likely to want to dominate you the way you’ve fantasized. I spent quite a bit of time with the sales staff fine tuning that one, and my urges should correspond pretty closely to what you’ve told me goes on in your head. I don’t really know what that’s going to feel like - to be the kind of dominant you fantasize about - so I’ve got that one on a variable setting, but I’m starting out pretty strong.

“I thought about putting some mods in yours as well but decided you didn’t really need your experience enhanced. I want your feelings to be a little more unfiltered, so you can judge if this is something you’re interested in continuing.

“If you need this to stop for any reason, use the safe word ‘mercy’.

“Stay on your knees, Eve, and don’t dress. Wait for me to come up.”

Jack and Evelyn. Eve and John. It made sense. If they were going to spend the weekend as each other, it was possible they’d need to interact with others who knew them, so they would need to use their real names, but it felt better using the name variants. Calling herself Evelyn would feel like she was pretending to be her even in private with…with John.

Eve sat up. She felt her heels sink into her fleshy buttocks as she knelt, felt her breasts sway and then hang heavily from her chest. She looked down at herself, running her now small hands over her belly, down to her shorn crotch. She felt the soft folds of her labia. They were no less sensitive than her scrotum had been, but the texture and sensation were different - smoother, more fleshy and full.

She had no cock. There was nothing occupying the space between her thighs. The knowledge made her feel a little faint. There was no part of her anymore that wasn’t soft and pliant.

Eve cupped her breasts, their weight resting in her small palms, her manicured fingers curling around the giving flesh. Soft. Malleable. She dug her fingers into the breast meat experimentally and winced. They were tender, sensitive. Evelyn had always complained that her breasts were overly tender, especially in the middle of her cycle and just before her period.

She released her breasts, felt them judder slightly as they fell to their natural resting state. Her nipples had stiffened in response to her handling of her breasts, and now thrust out of puckered aureola.

Eve held her hands up to her face, examining them closely. Evelyn had never been into nail polish, but for this occasion she had apparently spent a little time preparing her body for Eve. The nails were still clipped short, but they were now a glossy hot pink. She twisted to examine her toes and discovered they’d been painted too, in the same color.

Now that she thought about it, she realized that the strong scent of perfume that she’d noticed was coming from her own skin. It wasn’t one that Evelyn normally wore; this scent was much more…more feminine. Knowing how Evelyn applied perfume, Eve knew the scent was dabbed under each ear, between her breasts and on her wrists. There was no getting away from it. She’d never considered how a woman essentially lives in the perfume she wears.

Eve wanted to get up and examine herself in the closet mirror, but Evelyn - John - had written instructions for her to stay on her knees. She crawled over to the closet. Her breasts wobbled under her ribcage disconcertingly, and the very act of moving brought to attention how differently she was put together - her pelvis was proportionally wider, and it made her hips sway back and forth as she crawled. Also there was a gnawing “missing limb” sensation between her legs, an absence that drove home her femininity.

She knelt in front of the full length mirror set in the closet door, taking in her reflection.

At 22, Evelyn was eighteen years younger than Jack, and her pixie-like face, with its soft cheekbones, full lips and small nose, made her look even younger. She was stunningly gorgeous. She was petite - only five feet even, and 105 pounds - but her proportions were perfect for her size, and her B-cup breasts felt generous for her small frame. Eve knew the body intimately, but it was still disconcerting to be inside it.

Evelyn had always complained that their age difference, combined with her looks and diminutive stature, meant that she was never taken seriously among their friends, and even that it affected how Jack treated her. Evelyn bristled against that feeling of being smaller, younger, less serious. It didn’t help that she was routinely mistaken for a teenager.

Eve realized now that she was going to be on the receiving end of those preconceptions. The thought did something to her insides, loosened her in a way she couldn’t put her finger on.

She brushed her blonde hair back over her shoulders - it was normally long, flaxen and straight, but she saw that Evelyn had styled it with a curling iron so that tight whorls framed her face.

She wondered what Evelyn - what John - was experiencing now…

Chapter 3: John

Evelyn hadn’t been prepared for just how invigorating and empowering a man’s body would feel. She stood in the living room, running her large hands over the firm musculature of her arms in wonderment. Jack had always kept his body in shape, with regular gym time, which she now could fully appreciate.

John. She - no, he - was John now, he reminded himself. What was more remarkable than the feeling of power that came from being in this body was the innate sense that it was his natural state. He felt utterly at home and at ease. He flexed his biceps experimentally and smiled.

It was the behavior mods, John was sure, that were making this such an easy transition, but the crazy thing was that he didn’t feel like his thoughts or emotions were being manipulated. It just felt right.

He thought of his real body upstairs. Eve was there now, getting used to things, possibly with a little more difficulty. He imagined her on her knees, crawling about, and felt a twinge in his loins, felt his cock stiffen. He smiled. Again, completely natural. As if he’d been born with a cock.

John closed his eyes and tried to visualize being back in his old body. He frowned. He couldn’t summon up any physicality to his memories of being female at all. He could remember, of course, but the memories weren’t visceral. And the thought of being soft, weak, and pliant carried no appeal whatsoever. In fact, it was distasteful to imagine. He knew intellectually that he’d been quite content and happy with his body up until just a few minutes ago, but that was before he felt like this. Strong, supple, virile.

He opened his eyes again, still in wonderment at the change.

Why would Eve ever want to give this up? he thought.

No matter. For now she had given it up, had chosen to relinquish this strength, this power, this ease in the world, because she longed to be stripped of it. Now that borrowed power belonged to John, at least for the moment, and it felt fantastic.

“With these mods in this combination,” he remembered the salesgirl saying, “You won’t just feel naturally male. You’ll know it’s your proper place. With the male superiority and dominance modifiers, set at these levels, you will actually believe women were meant to serve men, and you will believe your place in the world is as an Alpha Male.”

“Won’t that make me like a psychotic rapist or something?” Evelyn had asked.

“It won’t make you crazy or stupid, hon,” she’d replied. “You won’t go around trying to stick your dick up random skirts. But signs of subservience in a woman will turn you on, and make you want to control her. You won’t throw consent out the window because you’re not a nut job, and these mods won’t make you one. That said, with the right woman, I’m told, this combo is electric.”

John walked over to the mirror hanging behind the living room couch and took in his reflection. Jack’s handsome face gazed back at him thoughtfully. He had a strong chin, an aquiline nose and close cropped curly black hair that, in the past year, had started to show a light peppering of silver.

It was a face that opened doors of power, he knew. Their life together was financed through Jack’s family endowment, which Jack co-ran with his two brothers. It was a face to whom the word “no” was not often said.

John smiled experimentally, and Jack’s face smiled back. Part of the attraction of being with Jack in the first place, he admitted, was basking in that reflected power. It had made Evelyn feel powerful herself.

John knew that that feeling of power had been provisional, that as Evelyn he had had no real status that wasn’t conditional on being Jack’s wife. Evelyn’s youth and lack of job experience left her with few prospects before she’d met Jack. Jack had age, authority, respect, and money on his side, and to the world, Evelyn was just a young thing Jack had taken for himself.

This, on the other hand - he ran his hand over his lightly stubbled cheek wonderingly - this was power. Not just the maleness of his body, but the identity. To the world at large, he was Jack.

John grinned. Eve wanted to feel powerless, helplessly female. John knew Eve’s desires were tied up in explicitly sexual fantasies, but that didn’t necessarily mean Eve wanted those fantasies to become her total reality in and out of bed.

But, John now realized, that might be exactly what the situation required.

Chapter 4: John and Eve

Eve heard heavy footsteps come up the stairs. Her heart began to pound, and she bit her lip nervously. She tried to imagine seeing her true body from the outside. It was hard to visualize, but she didn’t have long to wait anyway. The door swung open. She craned her neck to look up at Evelyn - no, John, she corrected herself. John gazed back down, his expression unreadable.

Her old body, Eve realized, was actually strikingly handsome. She’d had inklings of that truth before, of course. Women had always been attracted to Jack. But now she saw her old face and figure through Evelyn’s eyes, and she felt her cheeks flush.

Evelyn had said our arousal would be affected by our bodies’ natural responses, she thought. But she hadn’t taken into account just how attracted Evelyn was to Jack. Just looking at him pushed buttons, and she felt her loins grow warm.

There was a silence that made her nervous the longer it lasted. She began to wonder if Evelyn-John had had second thoughts.

“I-if this isn’t going to work, Evelyn,” she stammered, “We can s-stop now.”

John frowned then, his mouth drawn in a thin line. “You had clear instructions, Eve, on our respective names. Who are you? Say your name.”

She paused. “Eve,” she breathed. “I’m Eve.”

“So who am I, Eve?” he demanded.

“You - you’re John,” she said softly.

He nodded. “Better. John, your husband. If you slip up again, give any inkling to me or the rest of the world that anything is amiss, that you are not as you appear to be, without my explicit permission - that is, Eve, my little wife - I will hurt you. And I don’t mean in an erotic context; there will be plenty of opportunities for that. I’m telling you this so it is crystal clear to you that you don’t have a say in whether or not this ‘works’. If I discover that you have broken character in front of anyone, if they notice anything odd about your behavior, you will regret it. You will be punished in a way conducive to curbing your misbehavior. I know your body intimately, know what will hurt most, and have no compunctions about making you suffer.”

John watched Eve’s reaction carefully. They’d gone over her fantasies often enough that he knew his words conformed to the script, and he’d done a bit of thinking about what to say first. He wanted her to feel a little boxed in, trapped.

Eve blushed hotly, and John saw that she even trembled a little as she lowered her gaze. “I - “ she hesitated before continuing, “Y-yes, John,” clasping her hands in her lap.

John felt his pulse quicken, felt his cock twitch. Was it really that effortless, dominance? He gazed down at Eve for a long moment, silent, thinking. She was a beautiful, tiny, fragile thing. Funny how he had never really felt fragile growing up and living in that lithe, shapely, soft and pliant body. He had never felt inferior to Jack. But it was clear to John now that Eve was exactly that - his inferior, below him. Softer. Weaker. Compliant and servile.

“Stand up, feet spread wide, arms crossed at the small of your back, eyes straight ahead, and tits out.” He walked around behind her as she awkwardly rose to her feet.

Eve was visibly trembling as she complied, her hands curled into loose fists behind her. She turned her head slightly to try to catch a glimpse of John and was rewarded with a hard slap on the ass. She yelped and quickly turned her head back, her heart thudding.

John let Eve’s anxiety mount as he took in her lovely curves. She was so much shorter than him, he realized. He had a good fifteen inches on her, and he marveled at the implicit power that gave him over the girl. He had always wondered what it would be like to be a man, a big, tall man, to not have to look up to everyone, to not have to fight to be taken seriously just because of his gender, age, height and beauty. It wasn’t really a sexual thing - just envy of the ease with which men moved through the world without question.

Now John had a taste of it. He knew some of Eve’s response was to the direct fulfillment of her fantasy. But it was not just that. Some of it was the natural fear response of a small female to a large male, the fear of the vulnerable in the hands of the powerful.

Eve shuddered, and the effect was lovely, a rippling of her shoulder muscles down her spine, and then a trembling of her thigh muscles. The tension from the position put strain on her inner thighs, because she had spread her legs quite wide, but John could tell the shudder wasn’t from physical strain. Eve was genuinely afraid of him. John liked the feeling.

It came to John then that this newfound power really did extend past this bedroom. It wasn’t just a facet of a role play experiment. He could walk out of this house and be Jack, and Eve could do nothing about it. And really, why should she be able to do anything about it, indeed, do anything at all without his permission? She was just a girl now, after all. Flesh made for men to use, for him to use, holes for him to fill. Her cunt defined her purpose, didn’t it? Why the hell should she have the right to return to this body, _John’s_ body, HIS body? The weak little cunt had never known what to do with being a man anyway…

John blinked, shocked by the direction his thoughts had gone.

It was the mods, he realized. In his mind he called up the Empathin implant’s schematic, and a virtual sphere materialized before him. He reached in with his thoughts and dialed the mods back.

He breathed in, and out. Opened his eyes.

Eve was still standing, swaying a little, trembling. How much time had passed? Only a few seconds. John sampled his feelings.

His body felt thick, muscular, awkward, but the mods had already helped acclimatize him, so it wasn’t unnerving. He just felt…meaty. He looked at Eve and re-assessed what he saw.

That was Jack in there, he reminded himself. Jack, born and raised in the body John now inhabited. Jack, who Evelyn had married and who Evelyn loved.

With the implant, he dipped into her sensorium using a one-way feed - he didn’t want to break Eve’s sense that she was trapped in her body.

It was like slipping into a familiar glove. He felt his birth body superimposed over his current sensorium, and for a moment struggled with a sudden urge to slide back in completely, to end this experiment - it was almost like his old body wanted to suck him back in. He held the urge at bay and…felt Eve.

He felt the fear coursing through Eve’s small form, her racing heart, her confusion…and her arousal. She was sopping wet, he realized. He could feel the familiar ache in her loins, the slick hotness of her cunt, the swell of her labia. It almost hurt. The implant didn’t let John sample Eve’s thoughts directly, but her physiological response said volumes. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt that aroused as a woman.

So. Eve was afraid, but obviously very much into what was happening. John felt less guilt about the way the mods had channeled his thoughts. The feelings of power and authority they gave him were, he admitted to himself, incredible, and incredibly seductive. It was like standing on the roof of the tallest building in the city, on top of the world. Like he owned the world. It was a feeling he had never really had as a female.

That empowerment wasn’t something that automatically came with masculinity, he realized. If it did, he’d be feeling it now, with or without the implant mod. But male privilege made those things possible. He had potential power, by virtue of gender, wealth and age. He doubted if the mod would invoke the quite the same feelings when activated in a female body.

John debated leaving the mods turned off. There was danger of abuse that he now recognized - under their influence, his urge to control Eve was overpowering.

He decided he could gauge and manage those urges. He knew Eve’s experience would be more charged with them on, and besides, he was pretty sure he could handle their effects.

Then, of course, was the fact that they made him feel fantastic.

John dialed back the mods to their original setting.

He was still dipped into Eve’s sensorium. Suddenly the tug of his old body, which had been like a constant subliminal whisper to him to return to his natural state, his natural body, disappeared completely. Eve’s sensations immediately felt jarring, alien, and wrong, almost sickeningly so. Her softness, her heavy breasts, her fat ass and smooth, hairless skin, her wide hips…all of it felt to him weak, inferior, pathetic. Completely at odds with his natural state. He felt mired in her weakness and was repelled by the feeling. He fought nausea as he felt her chest heave, her tits juddering on her narrow ribcage, a terrible fear coursing through her nerves, arousal at being so weak and soft…it was horribly wrong.

John shut down the connection abruptly with a shudder, grateful that he could. The reaction he’d had to his old body was startling. But it made sense. He felt the power coursing through him again, felt again the entitlement and privilege that had previously been so enticing. Such feelings were not meant for girls like Eve. Even if she had been born male, a female body was her natural place.

He looked at Eve. She had no inkling that he’d tapped into her sensorium, thankfully. She was still fully immersed in her own world, kept there firmly by his control over the Empathin implant.

John realized with a start how true that was.

Eve had given John full control over access her Empathin implant. She’d meant it as a reassurance, that he could back out of this experiment any time he liked.

But it also meant that John could keep things as they were now, as long as he liked. To an extent, Eve really was trapped in his old female body. She was trapped so long as her resistance didn’t rise to the level of disclosing their sensorium swap to anyone else. That, of course, would quickly end the game. As would moving out of the implants’ 100 mile range.

But he could make it so that she felt those weren’t options, couldn’t he?

The thought made John’s cock rock hard. It was a troubling line of thought, but he couldn’t deny how aroused the thought of Jack trapped as Eve forever made him.

No.

Jack was Evelyn’s husband, just as this lovely Eve was John’s wife, and Jack and Eve were the same person, the person he loved. He planned for a weekend experiment and that’s the way it would stay. They could discuss their experiences later, and decide together if there was something here to pursue.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun now, making Eve feel like it was a permanent condition…

John grinned.

Chapter 5: Eve

Eve stood with her feet planted wide, swaying slightly, her naked skin chilled by the breeze from the open bedroom window. John had said nothing since his last demand that she stand, and at least a few minutes had passed.

Her breathing was uneven and ragged. If John was trying to mess with her head, it was working. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and fear spiked and ebbed in waves.

“John, I -“ she finally blurted, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“Shut up,” John hissed, and she felt his hand grip the base of her neck tightly, the fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her throat. “You wanted to be female, and so you’ve been given your wish. It comes with consequences. One is that you do nothing without permission. You don’t speak, you don’t move, you don’t dress, you don’t eat, you don’t piss or shit without begging permission or being told to do so. This is my household now, Eve, and I am the head of it. And in my household, a woman serves her superior. Do you understand, little thing?” he asked, close behind her now, his breath in her ear.

Eve nodded fearfully. Little thing?

She felt his hand wrap around her left wrist and twist her arm back in front of her, bringing her hand to her mouth. He shoved her thumb between her parted lips and said, “Suck.”

“W-what?” she asked around the obstructing thumb. She was rewarded with a tightening grip around her throat.

“You heard me, little bitch, suck. That thumb doesn’t leave your mouth until I tell you. It’s my way of shutting you up until I want you to talk. If you find it humiliating, then all the better,” he added.

Eve fearfully began to suck her thumb, her heart thudding. She tasted the salt sweat of her own body. The long painted nail of her thumb rested on her tongue as her lips sucked gently, her hand balled into a loose fist. Her fingers were small and childlike, contributing to the sense of littleness the act evoked. She felt unaccountably small, silly, unimportant. She felt embarrassed by this sudden infantilization, and wanted to turn around to see John’s face, to try to understand what was going on, but was too afraid to break position.

She wondered what her brothers would think if they knew that, by his own choice, their 40 year old brother was at the moment in his short, gorgeous 22 year old wife’s body, naked, with her thumb in her mouth and a hand clamped around her neck. The thought mortified her.

John’s fingers twisted painfully around her right wrist and brought it around her front, down over her shaved pubic mound. He manhandled her little fingers, shoving three of them between her puffy lips, jamming them inside her. She mewled in surprise, and tried to pull her fingers out, but he held them there, his grip tight, as he hissed, “Those stay inside your cunt. Now stand upright, feet together.”

John grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked upward, forcing Eve to bring her feet together under her. Her soft thighs squeezed against her hand, her fingers still jammed firmly up inside her wet cunt. John began to drag her toward the bathroom by her hair, and she whimpered plaintively as she followed, wincing as her hair was yanked, her mouth and pussy plugged by her own hands.

Eve had never realized just how strong her male body was. She could have fought John, if she had the courage to, but it was clear from the ease with which he dragged her along beside her that she was no match for him. She stumbled alongside him, her bare feet slapping against the floorboards in counterpoint to the dull thud of his shoes. Her breasts swung alarmingly as she was pulled along; because she was being dragged by her hair she was necessarily bent forward, and her breasts dangled free from her ribcage, full, ripe, heavy flesh.

Eve knew Evelyn’s body well, but only from the outside. She had fantasized about being female from an early age, and had spent a lot of time imagining what it would be like. But up until this experiment with the Empathin implant, she had never really imagined what it would like to be Evelyn. So it was strange to know so intimately this body from an outsider’s perspective, and yet be a newcomer to living in it.

He stopped her short in front of the bathroom mirror, and yanked her head up roughly. “Look at yourself, Eve,” he commanded.

Eve obeyed. She saw John standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other still in her hair, immobilizing her head. John was still wearing the suit trousers, dress shoes and white dress shirt that she had come home from work in. Had it only been earlier this evening? It was strange to see her old body animated by another intelligence.

Pain shot through her shoulder as his fingers dug in. “Did I say look at me, Eve?”

She quickly looked away, and obediently turned her gaze to her own reflection.

“Do you need to safeword, little girl?” John asked.

Eve hesitated. It was hard to think clearly. “May I shpeak?” she asked, the thumb in her mouth slurring her speech.”

“Yes,” John said after a long moment of consideration.

“Can I take my handsh out?”

“No.”

Eve felt her chest flush with embarrassment. “I…I jusht wasn’t pwepawed for how contwolling you awe. Ish it really you in there?”

John grinned. “I think so. You mean am I the person you married?”

“Yesh.” She nodded hesitantly.

“I am. All the mods are doing, I think, aside from making manhood the normal state for me, is pushing aspects of myself to the fore, that don’t have room to breathe in that body. But I am still your spouse. Inside me is the woman you married. Just as inside you is my onetime husband. You don’t really look like a husband just now though, do you?” His grip on her blonde locks tightened.

Eve reluctantly shook her head.

“No. And I sure as hell don’t feel like your wife. Here’s the deal, Eve,” he said. “You have a safeword. If you use it, everything stops, except you’ll still be female. At that point you can ask to return to your body. However, up until the point you use it, this weekend I’m going to do everything in my power to put you in your place as a fat-titted little trophy wife whose every step is monitored and micromanaged by her husband. We both know that runs very close to your fantasy life. Do you disagree, little girl?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Eve whispered, “No John.”

“Any other questions, girl?” John asked.

Eve nodded meekly. “Are you e-enjoying thish?” she lisped.

John chuckled. “Immensely. I know how the mods change me, and know some of my pleasure comes from my new outlook. But it doesn’t matter really. We always had an unequal relationship; you always had the power. Now I do - all of it - and it’s intoxicating. Some of that I would feel anyway, mods or not, because I always envied you for what you had.”

Eve glanced up at his reflection in surprise. “Envy?”

“Eyes front,” he said, and gave her ass a hard swat. Eve hurriedly obeyed. “Yes, envy. I lived my whole life in that body, never being taken seriously, never having any real income, always being judged by my looks, rewarded for feminine behavior, judged for masculine behavior. When I married you some of that changed - I was your wife, so people took me a little more seriously, but not much.”

John hand ran over her shoulder, down to her breast. He lifted it, feeling its weight rest on his palm. “Now you can deal with these for a little while. You should know that the mods make the thought of ever returning to that body repellent. I have a very strong urge to just keep you trapped as Eve forever. I think you’d make a very good naked little housewife, don’t you?”

Eve swallowed hard, alarmed. “Thish ish only fow the weekend!” she stammered. She fought the urge to meet his eyes, and kept her eyes on her own reflection, so she could see the panic in the girl gazing back at her.

John chuckled. “Yes, and I’m keeping that promise, little thing, unless you piss me off. That doesn’t change the fundamental truth that right now you’re a submissive little fat-titted, bubble-assed cunt with a pretty face, with a thumb jammed in your mouth and fingers jammed in your cunt. Or that you’re sopping wet, and have been since I walked into the bedroom. Or that you’re wearing my wedding ring around your finger, which makes you my wife. When we leave this house today - and we will, after I use you - you’re going to be my petite little wife, a ridiculously gorgeous piece of arm candy, wearing the skimpiest outfit in our walk-in closet. Men will ogle your tits, interrupt you in conversation, ignore your input, and dismiss your opinion. You won’t have an ounce of authority, and frankly you don’t deserve any. Do you?”

John watched Eve’s face closely. After a long moment of silence, she began to tear up, fighting to keep from crying, her breasts heaving as her breath hitched. She choked back a sob. He was surprised to find her emotional turmoil arousing.

“Do you need to safeword?” John asked, his voice now gentle.

Eve shook her head, her face streaked with tears. She was in a haze of emotional turmoil. The fact that she was crying, something she hadn’t done since childhood, wasn’t helping her thought processes. Evelyn was always quick to cry, and Eve now guessed some of that was simply hormones. She felt like her emotions controlled her more.

The truth was, Eve realized, as terrifying as John’s words were, they struck home almost painfully. He was playing out the most extreme form of her fantasies so convincingly that she was being forced to confront what they would mean if they became real.

“Then answer the question,” John said firmly. “Do you deserve the authority you were born with?” he demanded, his thumb and index finger finding her stiff nipple and twisting it painfully.

Eve winced. “I d-don’t unnershand the qweshtion,” she answered, the thumb in her mouth still slurring her words.

John twisted harder, and his grip in her hair, which had relented briefly, tightened. “I’ll say it in a way you can not possibly fail to understand, little girl. You’re a young piece of meat, a short, heavy titted little wet submissive cunt, and you’re that way because you wanted to be. You chose to swap with me, knowing what it would mean. Does a little bitch who chooses that deserve to be a man?”

Eve whimpered. She knew the answer John wanted. It was just humiliating to say it.

“I wash born male…” she started, then gasped in pain after three quick slaps across her right breast.

“You were also born rich. Neither of those are things you deserve. I say this, Eve: everything is earned by choices. You chose to become Eve. I chose to become John. Who chose to be a man?”

“Y-you did,” Eve admitted. Her breast still stung from his abuse.

“Yes, and what did you choose?” John demanded.

“To be a girl,” she answered, bowing her head.

“And that choice makes you one, Eve,” John said. “I didn’t force this on you. You were born with everything, and chose to give it up.”

“Itsh tempowawy,” she protested, her high pitched lisp pleading.

“For now, yes,” he answered. “Now answer me. Does a little bitch who chooses to have a wet cunt between her legs deserve the rights, privileges and authority that comes with being a man?”

“I -“

“Does a real Man choose this?” John demanded.

“N…no,” Eve whispered.

“What does that make you, cunt?”

“A…a female…”

“Right. Now, again, do you deserve to be male?”

“N-no…” she confessed, finally.

John spun Eve around to face him. He grabbed her wrists and twisted them behind her. She gasped as her thumb was ripped from her lips and her fingers yanked out of her cunt, and she found her arms pinned at the small of her back, John’s left hand easily wrapping around both wrists.

John’s other hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, and then his mouth was on hers, kissing hungrily. She was pressed up against him, her breasts crushed into his dress shirt.

She moaned as he kissed her, her body responding in ways that left her weak-kneed. It was odd being so intimate with the body she’d been born into, to see its face, its figure from the outside, from Evelyn’s perspective. She had been struck earlier by how handsome her birth body actually was. Now she was awash in conflicting emotions. Her nipples dragged against the fabric of his shirt - the shirt she’d put on that morning, had draped that body in, and which now belonged, along with the body, to John.

It was John’s. The body was John’s. At least until the weekend was over, everything about who she was - Jack’s identity, masculinity, property, clothing, entitlement and privilege - was out of her reach.

She was Eve now, she reminded herself. This scenario that John had engineered went far beyond what she had thought would happen on their first Empathin experience. She had envisioned a simple swap with some experimental lovemaking, not being forced to live as Evelyn for the whole weekend by an alarmingly dominant spouse, a spouse who had taken full possession of her birth body, and now behaved as if he were its proper owner.

It was terrifying. But she admitted to herself that she had never been so aroused in her life. She was determined to see if she could get through the weekend without safewording. For one thing, she felt she owed it to John, who had obviously gone to some lengths to fulfill this fantasy.

John’s mouth was on her neck now, biting, then he took her nipple between his lips and sucked hungrily. He took a good mouthful of her breast in, his teeth bearing down. Eve groaned, wincing.

Still keeping Eve’s wrists pinned behind her, John broke off the kiss and forced Eve to bend at the waist. John marched her out of the bathroom, his hand gripping her hair to keep her bent. She was panting now, and struggled to follow the direction of his stern hands, her feet slapping on the bathroom tile and then the wooden floorboards. Her breasts dangled heavily, swaying, tugging at her, the redistribution of their weight distending the flesh into soft white cones capped by large areolae and fat nipples.

He dragged her over to the bed and roughly shoved her forward. The bed was nearly waist high, at least for Eve, and she found herself face down in the sheets as John kicked her ankles apart.

“Stay, cunt,” John said, his voice deliberately calm, though she heard urgency in his tone. “Don’t move a fucking muscle.” She heard his belt buckle come free. Her heart thudded and she tried to control her breathing and remain as still as possible.

John, for his part, let the girl struggle for a moment, enjoying the view. Eve’s body really was superb. He had always known that they made an attractive couple, but growing up as Evelyn had brought plenty of self-esteem issues. He realized now he had always viewed that body through a female’s lens; overly concerned with weight, physical comparisons with other girls, and insecurity about how it was perceived by others.

Now, seeing Eve through masculine desire, he knew how achingly, cock-twitching perfect she was, every curve almost designed for a man’s hand.

John felt a sudden wave of resentment. He realized what a prison being female had been, all of his life, and it angered him now that he would have to return to that weak, insecure way of being. The thought appalled him.

He removed his belt and wrapped around Eve’s crossed wrists tightly, buckling it so that the buckle itself was out of her fingers’ reach. The leather pinched her delicate skin and she squirmed.

John unzipped his pants and pulled out his now rock hard cock. It felt wonderful in his hand, like a club, a tool. He grabbed Eve’s hips and shoved his shaft in, burying it inside her until his balls slapped against her ass. The sensation was indescribably delicious and right; Eve’s cunt clenched around his cock greedily. He began to roughly pound his cock, pumping into her, trying to jam himself in as deeply as he could, each thrust eliciting a whimpery moan from the helpless girl, each moan prodding him into a deeper urgency.

He was angry. He came to that realization as he began to see Eve resist, begin to panic under the onslaught of his furious thrusting, and he slowed his thrusts, took a deep breath, and got himself under control. Eve moaned and squirmed, but he could see her relax and soften, and her wordless protestations gentled into high pitched whimpers.

It wasn’t Eve’s fault she’d been born male, John admitted. It made no logical sense for him to be angry about it, and the last thing he wanted was for her to safeword because he couldn’t master his emotions and barreled over her resistance. He quickened his pace again, enjoying the sensation of being inside her, impaling her, but this time with more control, his hands on her hips, holding the girl steady as he thrusted.

These mods that altered his personality were a heady and dangerous mixture, John thought. They gave him extraordinary confidence and a natural authority that was addictive. But he realized that to have utter and complete control over Eve - which he very much wanted - he needed to be in control of himself.

Eve, for her part, was overwhelmed. She whimpered as her sensitive breasts were crushed under her, and because her wrists were strapped behind her back, she could do nothing about the way they pressed into the mattress, or slid under her ribcage as John slammed into her cunt.

She could feel John’s cock deep inside her, sliding in and out of her with ease. It was a sensation she’d often fantasized about, and she’d experienced VR approximations before. This was much more intense than she’d imagined it would be, though. He was inside her; he had penetrated into her, invaded her body, and more humbling than the actual sensation was the realization that he could do this to her with such ease, and she couldn’t possibly get under his skin the same way.

John’s hand was in her hair now, twisting it and yanking back, pulling Eve’s head up out of the mattress. Her back was arched now, and her breasts juddered as he slammed his cock deep into her.

She was a woman, being fucked. It was almost too much to bear, but she didn’t have any choice but to ride through it, her arousal mounting in response to his aggression. It was shocking to Eve how obviously turned on John was by playing this role, by being the man. He was rock hard inside her; it felt like a hot club pounding her in two.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that hard - certainly it had been early on in their relationship, before the temperature cooled into something long-term and sex became normalized.

And now Eve was edging closer to orgasm, but with no erection to focus on she felt strangely helpless, like she was riding a cresting wave that was going to crash against the shore soon. Everything John was doing to her seemed designed to push her further, whether she liked it or not, and he seemed to know exactly how to play her body.

And Eve’s body liked to be manhandled, controlled, tied down.

John groaned loudly, tensing, his hands gripping the flesh of her hips. His cock pulsed inside her as he came, filling her with his seed.

Eve felt herself on the edge now, and ground back against him desperately.

Suddenly John withdrew, and Eve was yanked back onto her feet. She was so close to orgasm that she was visibly trembling.

John whirled her around to face him. She gasped as he kicked her bare feet apart. “No,” he hissed, slapping her cheek, hard. “You don’t come without permission.”

“What?” Eve groaned in disbelief, but didn’t dare move.

“You come when I say you do, and I say no, Eve.”

Eve looked up at John fearfully. The look on his face was deadly serious. “B-but why?” she stuttered. Her arousal was cresting, but without stimulus she couldn’t go further.

“Because I am the head of this household, and you, as a female, must be controlled, and kept in your proper place. Don’t fucking pretend your fantasies don’t include orgasm control and denial, because we read them together. You just didn’t think you’d be subject to any of those restrictions because your wife wasn’t kinky or dominant enough to go whole hog with your fantasies.” He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Well, I am. And you are controlled. You are kept. And there is nothing you do or do not do without my permission. Do you understand me, Eve?”

Eve felt her arousal as an almost painful ache. She felt John’s come leaking out of her, dribbling down her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she whispered. Her cheeks burned, and she was sure she was blushing furiously.

He slapped her again, hard. “Yes, Sir, is what you say now, cunt.”

Eve felt faint. “Yes, S-sir,” she repeated.

John smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Now,” he said, placing his hands on her small shoulders and pushing down firmly, “clean my cock with your mouth, and dry it with your hair.”

Eve found herself on her knees - they’d practically buckled under the downward pressure of his hands - in front of John’s still mostly erect cock.

It was, she saw, a beautiful thing, really. Even as it softened, it was thick, smooth and nearly ten inches long. She’d always had a complicated relationship with it given her fantasies, but it was clear that John had no issues with his new anatomy. It was a natural extension of himself and his power, and his obvious confidence occupying her birth body was unnerving - he wore it better than she did, she was ashamed to admit.

Eve took John’s cock in her mouth and began to suckle and lap away the fluids and ropy come still clinging to the shaft. It tasted salty, and the pungent odor of their mixed fluids filled her nostrils.

This was, of course, how things played out in her fantasy life - that she would kneel at the feet of a man and worship his cock this way - but the reality of it was still overwhelming. She could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway - the one that was a family heirloom - and the ambient sounds of the woods surrounding their house.

This was reality. She was Eve. She was almost unbearably turned on, like nothing she’d ever felt before, and she couldn’t deny that it wasn’t just the fantasy fulfillment of being female - it was being Eve, knowing that everything she’d had was now John’s.

What if John really wanted to keep her this way? Would she want that?

As she dried his cock, curling her locks of hair around the softening shaft, her thoughts raced.

That had never been their original plan, so she had never thought past the weekend.

“Crawl to the bathroom, Eve,” John said. “Once you’re there you have permission to stand. Empty your bladder, clean yourself up and make yourself presentable for me. I’ll leave clothes for you on the bed. Be downstairs in ten minutes, fully dressed.”

Eve whispered, “Yes, Sir,” and crawled off toward the bathroom, her head bowed, soiled hair hanging around her face. She felt the femaleness of her body more keenly, now that she knew his eyes were on her as she moved, and especially now that she had a better sense of how he viewed her.

When John had first come upstairs, she was unsure of what their dynamic would be. Was he humoring her with this experiment? Would he feign enthusiasm for her sake?

That would have been a disappointment, of course, but this new version of Evelyn-in-John was so in control, so authoritative…so comfortable with mastering her that it was frightening.

John, she realized, didn’t view her as a husband experimenting with being female.

He really considered her female, period. And that fact made her extremely self conscious of the way her breasts swayed under her as she crawled, the way her buttocks presented themselves to him. She knew her cunt was fully visible between her thighs, and the rivulets of come still clinging to her inner thigh.

Her face burned with embarrassment as she crawled into the bathroom. She rose to her feet.

“The door stays open, Eve,” John said. “Another thing you must ask permission for: opening and closing doors.” Eve glanced over at John, who was still standing by the bed, leaning against the bedpost, arms crossed, smirking. He crossed the room and stood in the doorway.

“Sit on the toilet,” he said. Ordered.

Eve blushed. She looked up at him for a long moment, biting her lip, then nodded and sat on the toilet.

“When you relieve yourself, Eve,” John said, “I want it to remind you of what you are. Go ahead and piss.”

Eve was too self-conscious at first to let go, with John watching her. But then she realized with a start that her bladder really was quite full. She relaxed, leaned forward and rested her elbows on her thighs. Her body seemed to know what to do, and after a long pause a steady stream of urine sprayed out of her, splattering into the bowl below.

It was immediately obvious to Eve that, so long as she was in Evelyn’s body, standing to pee was not an option unless she wanted to make a mess. There was no directing the spray; it just left her body under pressure in a noisy rush.

“That, Eve,” John said, “is how a weak little girl pisses. Get used to it. It’s your new normal.”

Eve looked up at him, her face pink, unable to reply.

“Finish getting ready,” he said, and left her still sitting on the toilet seat.

Chapter 6: Eve

Eve let out a shaky sigh of relief at the sound of John descending the stairs. She hid her face in her hands, and burst into tears.

What the hell had just happened?

For a few moments Eve just let herself cry, without trying to answer the question. She sniffled, pulled off a sheet of toilet paper and blew her nose, then used another sheet to wipe her privates. She realized a wet wipe would be better, and leaned forward, her breasts pressed against her knees, to reach the low shelf where Evelyn kept them. There was a box under a package of tampons. Her face flushed at the thought that this body required such things. She pulled out the box and tugged free a wet wipe, and began cleaning her smooth, shaved lips, and wiped her inner thighs too.

Still sniffling, Eve stood and flushed. She stepped in front of the mirror again. This time, without John looming over her, she could take a moment and absorb her changed circumstances.

When Jack and Evelyn had talked through exploring their fantasies, it had seemed a very straightforward idea to experiment using Empathin implants. Jack had shared both his transgender fantasies and his kink fantasies in some detail, and Evelyn had told Jack of her desire to know what it was really like to be a man. “Hey, for a weekend, I’ll get to be rich, powerful, handsome, and respected. And we will indulge your fantasies, too. I’ve got ideas on that,” she’d said.

Eve had expected a slow, gradual experimentation to take place over time. Instead John had chosen to go whole hog.

Eve washed her face. She couldn’t do much about the lingering traces of semen in her hair, other than try to comb it out a little, but at least it wasn’t obvious. She just looked a little unkempt. It didn’t detract from her beauty, if anything it accentuated it - Evelyn was so strikingly gorgeous that men literally stopped in their tracks, and you could smear her face with dirt and that radiance would still shine through.

And this was who Eve was now. In spite of everything, she realized that she did feel grateful to Evelyn for giving her this chance. Grateful to John, that is. Even if it was an emotional roller coaster. This was physically and emotionally overwhelming, true, but even that was a gift from John.

She resolved, then, to embrace the moment. She would do her best to be Eve, the Eve that John was demanding her to be, at least for this weekend.

He’d given her ten minutes, she remembered. She looked at the clock on the wall. Five had already passed.

She hurried out into the bedroom and found the clothes John had picked out. High heeled strappy heels and a little black dress that was mostly some stretchy fabric. It looked great on Evelyn when she wore it, which was rarely. There were black thong panties, but no bra.

Eve pulled the panties up, letting the elastic sit high on her hip bones. The small panel of black lace just barely covered her shaved pussy. She shrugged herself into the dress, pulling it down over her head. It had some built-in support for her breasts, which at least kept her nipples from popping out of the fabric, but otherwise the stretchy material clung to her curves. From the waist down, the dress opened up into a pleated arrangement, and the hemline fell at about mid thigh.


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