Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2016 10:02:31 +0000 (UTC)
From: Abra Cadabra <abracadabra923@yahoo.com>
Subject: Switcher Part 6

  **************
   THE SWITCHER
  **************


Reminder of powers:

-Switch into men's mind at random. There is no way to control the process

-Knock out anyone for up to three minutes

-Take an object with me when holding it before falling asleep

-Force push objects

-Lingering in the victim's head afterwards (followed by "pull back" through
previous victims since last lingering)


***


My mind was back to normal without annoying pulls dragging my spirit along
a railroad. I had nothing particular planned for my next victim, since I
was still trying to puzzle together the mechanics of lingering.

To continue my experimentation I tried to bring a lot of big stuff to see
if the teleport had limits.

When I arrived in the body of a thickly muscled man I was glad I had
brought things because there was not much going on where the guy was
walking. He was in a foresty mountain, marching along a trail in sweatpants
and a loose, gray t-shirt. His body was great, but I had no idea what his
face looked like.

Mister Name- and Faceless dropped the heavy bag I had brought and slipped
out of his clothes. My search for an ID came up empty. He had nothing on
his person. Was he opting out of civilization for the day or what?

With all the stuff back in my hands I walked off the path and to the next
best clearing a few minutes away. Dragging the bag was annoying and I had
to admit I would not have been able to do it in a less muscle-laden body.

He wouldn't know how far he was from the road so I didn't bother to go
farther, even though he would find his way back quite easily.

Along the way I lost all his clothes and covered them with foliage. This
was annoyingly difficult to do since the area was pretty green with little
dead plant matter on the ground. There was also no way to give Nameless a
mohawk. Disappointing. If I hadn't brought an extra heavy goodie bag, this
night's switch would have been a waste of time.

I retrieved a bottle of hard booze and downed it in one go, as much as it
made my throat burn. The empty bottle I shattered against a rock. Now I was
ready to do some work.

First, the simple preparations. I chose a tree and used the hammer I had
brought to beat a few metal loops into the tree as well as the ground in
front of it. A cock ring and a ball stretcher were my initial gifts for
Nameless.

It was hard to say which item to use next because they all made it harder
to put on the rest. I wished I had someone to do it for me, but that wasn't
how switching worked.

In this order, I put a spreader bar on his ankles, a ball gag in his mouth,
wrist cuffs on his arms and a blindfold around his forehead – not yet
covering his eyes.

The elaborate part followed and I used force push to maneuver the rope. The
prepared loops served to guide the rope as I needed it.

In the end, my rope ran from his ball sack along his ass crack, up his back
and farther into the tree. Then it came back down in front of him,
currently dangling loosely on eye level.

What had made the bag so heavy were the many 10 pound dumbbell plates in
it. I hooked up one to each ankle and wrist cuff, then hung three more
along the spreader bar between Nameless' feet. It was already quite tricky
to move but not nearly enough so.

I put a thick leather collar on the man's broad, short neck and hung four
plates around it. Then I put a plate on each one already on his limbs,
making them dangle so it would be harder to stay balanced.

Heavy, strong nipple clamps were the finishing touch, with just one
dumbbell plate left to add to the chain between his clamps.

I took the rope's loose end into my hands, already shaking from the weights
pulling down on me everywhere. I went up to the very tips of my toes and
pulled the rope taut until Nameless' balls were uncomfortably
stretched. They would hurt terribly if he dared to lower his wobbly feet by
any amount.

With my arms stretched as far upward as possible I made a knot with
trembling hands, the ball pain significantly present as I failed to balance
myself perfectly.

At last I had secured his hands. Nameless was totally stretched. His arms
were up, his feet on the toe tips, his legs spread, his torso strained and
– most importantly – his balls crushed.

I held out a minute or so until the strain made sweat build up all over
Nameless' body. The trembling got too bad. I would get to feel the ball
pain, too, if I didn't leave soon.

Using force push, I shoved the blindfold down over my eyes. It wasn't
perfect, because force push was no tool of amazing precision when the
object was right on my skin, but as long as the man had no way of seeing
more than the sky above and the ground under his feet, there was no way it
would be less than terrifying.

I said goodbye to Nameless.


***


It had been a while since I had been inside a college student. Probably
since Jimmy, right?

The slender, broad shouldered arab, whose head I resided in, was in his
room, apparently not living on campus. It was past midnight but he still
worked on his computer.

In fact he had been working for so long, he had ignored his appetite. I
grabbed the power bars on his desk and munched two while considering my
next steps. Tonight was going to be another experiment.

A look at his ID told me his name was Doyle Graham and he was 20 years
old. Good, not another nameless person. I liked to know whose life I was
ruining.

Yesterday I had realized I had never used force push on a person. I had no
reason to since I could stun anybody, but what about myself? What if I
could fly? No, really. What if I could force push myself or the ground
under me and fly? That would be fucking awesome.

Once I had filled the boy's stomach I wandered into his bathroom and
stripped. His body was unusually hairy for a switch of mine. Most were
either smoothly muscled or smoothly twinkish.

First order of business was to cut his thick black hair into a mohawk, but
this time I was sloppy and it became slightly diagonal. From a certain
angle it looked purposeful, but... nah, not really. I just wasn't getting
any better at hair styling.

Should I try to fly now?

I force pushed the ground underneath Doyle's body. Nothing happened. I
pushed only the ground under his foot soles. Nope. The ability did not run
on conservation of momentum.

Then I tried to push his legs upward.

A flurry of hair streamed up and into my surprised face. Wait what? His leg
hair had detached en masse, leaving some regions perfectly smooth. No
really, what the fuck?

Then I understood. The force push didn't come from my hands or head, but
from any body part whatsoever. If I pushed something away, the force was
created in front of my body. But – here's the trick – I could also
create push from inside me. Thus, hair was pushed out of the skin, root and
all.

My first thought was that I could make people's mohawks permanent. A lovely
prospect but I wouldn't be able to find people like Jimmy and Bobby who had
kept the style on purpose if I didn't leave my victims a choice. I would
use the ability sparsely when it came to head hair.

I stepped into the shower and used the newly discovered application of
force push everywhere on Doyle, turning his furry body into an inhumanly
smooth skinned one. I even got rid of his scruff. Once I used lingering on
someone and returned to Doyle I'd see if his beard had regrown or it was
indeed permanent removal as it appeared to be.

The smoothness was amazing – practically on par with being oiled up,
except less slippery and lacking the glow.

What could I do to Doyle? Leaving people tied up and cum covered in public
was always an option but I could do that any day. Humiliating him online?
Another old hat. Then I had an idea for a combination of humiliations I
hadn't tried so far.

In order to leave him a nice mess, I deleted everything on his hard
drive. He had a backup under his desk. In plain sight. Too bad for him.

There was a tablet on his bed. I unlocked it with his fingerprint and
looked if he had anything saved on there. There were a lot of files in the
cloud he probably needed for college, so I got rid of those, naturally. Now
it was time to take a walk – naked.

All I took with me was his phone which I dropped into the next best gutter.

Young, slender, smooth Doyle made his way along the dimly lit streets of
suburbia. The air was calm and quiet. A beautiful night to fuck up a boy's
life.

Fondling his nipples and occasionally patting his semi hard on, I navigated
Doyle's body into a wealthy looking neighborhood. I needed a place where
someone was still up.

At last I came to a mansion with a lit window on the ground floor. Looking
in by the window I could see a woman on a sofa watching TV. That would do.

I simply walked up to the house's door and used a strong force push. The
door burst open and slammed into the wall, almost closing again as it was
reflected. I caught it and slipped in.

Getting hard, I entered the living room and knocked out the woman as soon
as I saw her. I wasn't even sure if she had seen me yet.

The three minutes it took for her stun to require a renewal were enough for
me to roam through their stuff. I found a locked liquor closet but the
flimsy lock was no match for Doyle's sheer manly power. Why always use
force push when I didn't have to? It was pretty hot to wreck a cupboard
with the surprisingly strong arms this arab boy had.

I sat down and jerked off a little while watching TV right next to the
repeatedly stunned woman, meanwhile taste testing pretty much the whole
cupboard's contents. No matter how expensive the stuff was, it never tasted
good to me. But the taste was, after all, not the reason to drink liquor.

Then I heard a noise upstairs. A husband? And he hadn't heard the door
trembling in its hinges as it was slammed into the wall? Maybe it had taken
him until now to find his glasses or something.

When the huge man came down the stairs, I saw it was not glasses he had
looked for. The husband carried a gun.

For the blink of an eye I was panicking so hard, I forgot I had an easy
solution. Once he was on the bottom most step and raised his arm to aim at
me, I stunned the idiot and rose, still jerking off.

I took his gun and dropped it into a flower vase. Then I pulled his
unresponsive body to the sofa and sat him next to his wife.

Subsequently, I looked through their closet to grab shoelaces – nothing
more. I used them to tie Doyle's big toes together with about two foot of
string between them. He would be able to walk but not run. It would not
keep him from escaping but he'd definitely fall on his face when he tried
to get away in a panic.

I knelt on the coffee table, between all the opened liquor bottles and
edged the boy until I felt the buzz set in a good amount.

My hands wandered all over his perfectly smooth skin as I slowly reduced
the stun on the couple. Once I was ready to cum, I stopped knocking them
out over and over. The moment they recovered, I shot Doyle's load up his
chest with a sensual groan.

After the first spurt, I left his head to let him experience the glory of
jizzing on strangers' furniture.

I could hardly imagine what would make my heart race faster than this
night. But I didn't know yet that the next switch would bring a totally new
kind of fun.


***


Another new ability? Well, it's not all that powerful, so it shouldn't make
things too easy.

Nameless or Doyle? Which one would you rather be?