by Sophie Pert
I closed my eyes, my vision blurring and going dark at the edges. When I opened them again it was a struggle and the world was different, similar but somehow unfamiliar, like I was looking at the scene through a different camera.
I blinked again and found myself back in my old point of view and somehow the sensation of being drained was even stronger. It was like I was caught in an irrepressible current, struggling vainly against it in an attempt to retain some sense of self, some bit of me.
When I blinked I found my point of view changed yet again but this time it was clearer, and each subsequent blink brought me back more and more to a proper sense of everything.
I heard noises, at first dull and muted like bleats of a poorly played trombone. They came into focus alongside my vision and I heard the voice of my partner exchanging words with the owner.
“So Rick,” Nathan followed up, “Is everything she says true? This girl slipped out while you were trying to cuff her and made a break for the door?”
“I, uh-” I started to say but Nathan cut me off with a squeeze of my arm and a firmly hissed shh.
“Yes,” I heard my voice come from across the room, “Yeah that sounds right to me.”
I looked over at the source and saw my old body standing there, looking slightly bewildered and confused but keeping things together anyways. He looked briefly at me, and then at the woman and then at Nathan. He kept his cool but I did not.
No I stood there mouth agape, making unconscious whimpering sounds as I tried to process exactly what I was seeing here.
My body was standing next to the shop owner. She was looking at me with a smug and satisfied look on her face.
I looked down, seeing the dishevelled clothes that were familiar to me but definitely not familiar from this position. They were her clothes, the thief. The woman who I had let go.
I was her?
The weight of this sunk in as I tried to process it, tried to rationalize it and found that I couldn’t, that my brain just kind of short circuited when it came to figuring out exactly what was going on.
I couldn’t be her? That wasn’t possible.
The familiar click of handcuffs brought me back though and I realized that while I was trying to process all of this Nathan had been busy cuffing my hands behind my back while reciting a familiar litany.
My rights.
He was reading me my rights.
I was her?
What the hell was going on?
I swallowed hard, trying to figure out what I could say that would make sense of this but realizing quickly that nothing would do that trick.
How had this happened?
Why did the shop owner look so… mischievous.
The scratch! It had to be the scratch. My hand was tingling- no wait. Her hand was tingling. The thief's hand was tingling just like mine had been.
The old woman must have scratched both of us and somehow that did some sort of magic that made us switch our bodies. As far fetched as it sounded it was the only thing that made any sense.
But it barely made any sense at all.
Still that explained everything. The fact that I was in the body of this girl, the way the shop owner was looking at me like she knew exactly what was going on, the way my body was just standing there looking a bit sheepish and dumbstruck.
I had to fix this.
“Alright then, I’ll be back to take a statement,” I heard Nathan say as if from far away, “I’m going to take her back to the car and lock her in.”
He tugged on my arm, leading me from the store.
That was when I realized the other shoe was dropping, that I was being arrested. That things were going from bad to worse.
As I was turned to the door and walked out of the shop I was struggling to find something to say, something to do to get me out of this. I was forced to try to process all of this, everything that was happening, all at once and try to come up with some way to fix this, to get me out of this situation and back to a reality that I could understand and comprehend. I couldn’t figure it out though, all I could do was walk on numb legs vainly opening and closing my mouth while trying to think of something to say.
My old body walked up beside me and I blankly stared at it. Seeing myself from this angle was so incredibly weird. It was disorienting.
My body, her, god I don’t even to know what to call it. She looked everywhere but at me, and I could tell from the panicked look on her face that she was trying to figure out some way to get out of this, but I wasn’t certain she was too keen to jump back into the body with the handcuffs on.
She glanced once in my direction, a fleeting look with an expression that said so much on it. Behind her sad eyes I saw at once that she had no intention of fixing this, no intention of speaking up, no intention of corroborating my story. I couldn’t count on her to help, if I wanted to get out of this I needed to do it myself.
She shuffled uncomfortably beside me, likely feeling as out of place in my body as I did in hers. I saw her shift the bag of payments I had over one shoulder and glance inside. She had one hand in there and was looking down in it when I saw her thumbing through something and her eyes went wide.
When she looked at me again I knew I was screwed, I knew from the look on her face that things were about to get even worse for me.
There wasn’t a lot of money in that bag, but it was definitely enough to disappear for a while, and I could just tell from her face that she had that exact idea.
“Um,” she mumbled, her voice grumbly and unsure, “I have to go to the washroom. I’ll meet you back at the car.”
Then she peeled off and crossed the street.
Both Nathan and I stopped dead, he had a grip on my arm and he tugged me to get me to stop moving while we watched my old body cross the street and move back down the road at a light jog.
“What?” Nathan shouted after her, “You can’t just leave me here with a suspect!”
But she didn’t stop, if anything she picked up the pace until she reached the first corner and disappeared around it. I couldn’t say for sure, but I was pretty positive I wouldn’t be seeing my body again for a long time.
“Dammit,” Nathan mumbled under his breath, then tugged me back into motion.
We walked in silence, making our way back to the car.
The people we passed on the street looked at me differently than I had ever been looked at in my life. They looked at me with a mixture of shame and disgust on their faces, and something else. They never made eye contact with me.
As a cop it isn’t uncommon for people to be nervous around you, to not make eye contact because there was this implicit idea that if you associated with cops too much that would increase the chances we would arrest you for something. So I was used to people not looking me in the eye.
But this was different.
When they looked at me now they saw something lesser, someone less than a full person. A criminal.
My cheeks burned hot with shame while I imagined the thougts that must be running through their heads.
We turned the last corner towards the car, down the alleyway and I could see the all too familiar sight of this alley. I had spent so much time here.
And that was when I think it really sunk in. When everything that was happening hit me all at once and I realized that this was about to drastically change my life.
My body was gone. I was under arrest. I was a woman.
I was going to lose everything if I didn’t act now.
“Wait,” I cried, trying to stop just as I saw the car, “Let me go! This isn’t- It isn’t-”
I struggled to find the right words and my feet dragged as I tried vainly to stall for time.
“Isn’t what,” Nathan said behind me, trying and succeeding to pull me closer to the car.
“Anything,” I cried, the words tumbling out of my mouth, “Anything, let me go! I’ll do anything!”
“Right sure,” he said, a brief chuckle escaping him, “Anything.�
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“Yes,” my voice broke, I felt tears start to bubble up and didn’t know if I would be able to withstand it. I wiggled and managed to break his grip, stepping back just out of reach and backing away from him, “Please don’t take me in. I don’t want to go to jail.”
Nathan had a relaxed look on his face, his movements were cautious, but even and unhurried. Both he and I knew that he had nothing to worry about. He was a tall and muscular man in the prime shape of his life. I was a tiny woman in handcuffs who looked like she probably weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. We were standing in an alley with one entrance and exit, and he was standing between me and it.
He had absolutely nothing to worry about.
Still he took his time trying to calm me, hands out trying to figure out a way to grab me and get me in the car without getting himself hurt.
He started to talk, to reassure me about how everything was going to be fine. But I couldn’t listen, could barely even process his words.
I kept getting distracted.
Distracted by him.
You spend a long time with your partner in this sort of job, every day for hours and hours spent sitting beside them and walking beside them and talking to them. But still you miss things.
In this case I never noticed that his deep blue eyes had a fleck of gold in them.
But I saw it now, and that just sparked off so much more.
I saw the way his muscular body moved underneath his uniform, the feline grace he somehow had in spite of being as built as he was. I saw how tight the uniform seemed to be around his middle, how even under everything he was wearing I could still sense that his core was hard and firm and built. I saw how firm his forearms were, corded with tight muscle and looking like they were made of iron.
I saw his face. His chiseled jaw looking like he belonged on a movie set as an idealized version of your average cop. His furrowed brow showing somehow the same amount of mental strength as he had physical strength. His neat hair, dark jet black and evenly and neatly swept back. And those eyes, those pale blue eyes that you could just drown in.
I saw all of that and was hypnotised by it. Hypnotised and distracted by the little voice piping up in the back of my mind and the strange feeling bubbling deep in my belly. I swallowed hard, trying to process all of this and while I stalled he made his move.
He had me locked in his grip in moments. Watching him move was so entrancing that all I could do was stare blankly at him while he quickly crossed the space and grabbed me. He held me expertly and firmly and he spun me around.
All of the grace and gentleness had gone out of him, replaced by an iron clad will that took my breath away. I felt him impose his will on me, handle me with sureness and power and maneuver me in the direction he wanted me. He had full control over me and I could do nothing to stop him.
He lifted me off the ground, picking me up and pretty much carrying me over to the car. I was pressed against it as he growled in my ear, “Don’t move.”
The order was gruff and deep and made me shudder unconsciously.
Then his hands were on me, running up and down my body. I knew he was searching me, feeling through my clothes to find anything I may be concealing.
He started at my shoulders, running his hands down my arms and sliding over them. He moved from there to my sides, sliding down and running them down my ribs and over my hips. His hands slipped into my pockets and pulled out items, tossing them on the ground around us before moving on. He reached down, pawing at my ass and making me shudder and stifle a moan. It seemed like he spent more time there than one usually would for a pat down but before I was able to say anything he moved on.
Taking each leg one at a time he slid down my thighs and calves and then back up the other. On the way back up he was so close to touching me. His hands slid up between my thighs and darted so very close that they just briefly brushed against the lips of my sex before drifting away. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on not showing any physical sign of how he was affecting me.
He gripped me by my hips and spun me around, slamming my back against the car a little too firmly and making me gasp slightly.
His hands gripped the zipper of my jacket, tugging at it and drawing it down, opening it. My upper body was exposed to the air, and I saw that this girl was wearing a tight fitting black shirt that clung to her surprising curves.
He was all business as he reached his hands in, running them over my body. He reached past my breasts to my ribs, feeling them closely and just brushing the sides of my breasts. I bit my lip slightly and closed my eyes to try to fight the overwhelming feelings building up in me.
He slid down my sides, down to my hips and back up the middle. His hands pushed against the bottoms of my breasts, lifting them up and cupping them from below before releasing and sliding over them. He palmed my breasts, his big strong hands holding them and running over them again and again. His thumbs pressed into my cleavage, feeling for anything I may be concealing. His palms dragged over my nipples, making my jaw tremble and making me gasp out loud.
At the sound he pulled his hands away.
My eyes flew open and I watched him move down my body. He slid his hands down my thighs and my calves, then back up the middle. This time I shuffled my feet apart, my body moving unconsciously as I silently willed him to touch me. I stared daggers into the top of his head as his hands slid oh so slowly and oh so achingly up between my legs. They were so close but I was denied once more as they deliberately avoided touching me. Instead he moved up to the waistband of my pants and slid his fingers just inside.
The feel of skin on skin for the first time was overwhelming. I had never been so excited or thrilled in my life, had never wanted so badly for someone to touch me, to grab me, to take me like I know he could.
His eyes met mine as he held my attention.
“Anything?” he asked.
Nervously, all I could do was nod.
“Get down on your knees,” his voice was that same deep and authoritative boom and I’d never before realized just how much of a turn on that could be.
I nearly collapsed in my hurry to get on my knees. Sliding my back against the car and nearly falling to the ground. But I made it and I felt the reassuring hardness of the firm stone of the alley against my knees.
I wasn’t wearing much on my legs, just a pair of black leggings that were almost too thin to even truly be considered pants. The rough stone of the alley would have hurt if I could have noticed it.
But I couldn’t.
Because all of my attention was focused on the sight in front of me. All of it was fixated on his hands unbuckling his pants. Unzipping his fly. Reaching in. Pulling out his cock.
Oh my god his cock.
His cock was enormous and gorgeous. It was bulging and long and thick. It looked heavy, veiny and thick and seeming to be made of something more than mere flesh. It looked like it deserved to be carved out of marble it was such a thing of beauty. It needed to be in a museum.
But I was the lucky girl who got to have it instead.
I felt a thrill as I realized just what was in store for me.
And then, as he stepped forward, I felt a pang of confusion cut through it all.
I realized just then who I was. I remembered.
I was a man and not just any man I was his partner. I was a cop and never in a million years would I have agreed to even watch him pull his cock out, let alone kneel before him salivating. But I was.
Because there was something undeniable about this feeling inside of me. Something irrepressible.
It was a potent need building up in me, a desperate need for satisfaction that I knew could only be sated when I let him bury this cock deep inside of me and pound me again and again.
I didn’t care that I was a woman. I didn’t care that I likely wouldn’t turn back. I didn’t care that I was under arrest.
All I wanted was to have him take me.
Hell if he told me that he would only fuck me i
f he took me to jail just afterwards I would agree.
I needed it.
He stepped up to me, his hand holding the base of his cock and swinging it lightly from side to side, teasing me. He knew just as well as I did how much I wanted his cock, he could tell from the look on my face.
I opened my mouth as he stepped out, letting my tongue hang out ready for him to pop his cock inside. Instead he slapped me twice, once on each cheek and I whimpered and looked up at him.
“Please sir,” I begged, one hundred percent sincerely, “Let me suck your cock.”
I batted my big eyes and him and looked up at his face. His cold and hard face that saw me, right then and there, as a piece of meat to use. The thought of it thrilled me.
Then he satisfied me. He pushed his cock into my mouth, popping the head just inside and letting me feel it.
It stretched my lips and made my mouth tingly with the taste of his salty precum. He pressed down on his shaft, pushing the bulging head of his cock against the flat of my tongue and making me open my mouth even wider. I felt a drop of drool dribble out of the corner of my mouth and run down my chin.
With my hands handcuffed behind my back I was unable to wipe it away, unable to do anything but let him feed me his cock.
And he did.
He pushed it into my mouth. An inch at a time he pushed it in and let me feel every last bit of it. Savour it as it filled me up and made me feel oh so good.
The whole time I just stared up at him, brow furrowed with a slight look of concern mixed with concentration mixed with desire. I batted my big eyes at him and let him watch as he pushed his thick cock further and further inside of me, as he made it disappear inch by inch.
I felt him hit the back of my throat and gave a little cough, but he didn’t stop there. I had to relax, concentrate on letting my throat relax and stay open. He still had so much to go, at least a third of his cock left.
He wasn’t gentle with the rest of this. His spare hand flew out to hold my head steady and with a single thrust he buried the rest of his cock in my mouth. I felt him push into my throat, felt my nose pressed against him.