Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 13

Warning: This chapter is rated a swap-happy R and contains boobs, bisexual orgies, homosexual orgies (both kinds), traps, gender bending, role reversal, parties, hairy girls, hormones, gold diggers, man-boobs, sexy butts, casual sex-toy wearing, body swaps, body part swaps, sexual positivity, classy escorts, role swaps, clothing swaps, discovery, and a conspicuous lack of our typical protagonist. Let’s hope they’re okay.

Girlfriend with Testing Device

- A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts -

= Part 13 -- Party Hard! =

By Razmagurk

Sure, okay, so, looking back at it all, I’m sure it looks pretty bad.

You’ve got to look at it from my point of view though. Some girl I’ve only barely met pulls some weird sci-fi looking box out of her bag and points it at me like it’s a gun or something? Yeah, I’m going to try to get out of the way. Look, I have brothers, I’ve been the butt of enough pranks, thank you very much.

And then, sure, I stumble into her and the thing falls on the ground? Of course I’m going to try to grab it. I’m not stupid. I’m not going to just let her keep trying to do... whatever it was she was going to do. It could have been anything. I mean, it looked like some kind of weird physics experiment. I figured she was an engineer or something and that it was some kind of crazy prototype. Shit, I’ve seen the stuff engineers bring to these kinds of parties. The last thing I wanted was to get hit by some kind of ill-conceived nudification ray again.

I mean, I guess that’s not really all that far off the mark, huh? Jesus, after all I’ve seen since then, I’m just glad to have gotten out of there in one piece.

And hey, look, I know you’re probably upset about everything that happened, but I was going to turn those people back! Well, probably. I wasn’t really thinking at the time, but I’m sure if I’d have had the chance I’d have put everything right.

Sorry, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.

So there I am with this weird box in my hands, right? And this girl’s got this look in her eye like she’s ready to legit just bust my head in. So what do I do? I run. I’m not super proud of that fact, but hey, you’d run too if you were in my shoes.

Uhg, and it’s such a shame that everything turned out that way, because she was majorly hot. She had this like, rough manly vibe about her that just totally got me going. And her boyfriend? Wow. I’ve never seen a guy who could fill out a dress the way he did. Their timing was just awful though. It’s like, couldn’t they have waited until we were done? Couldn’t they have knocked? Do they not realize the logistics involved with setting up a bisexual three-way like that? Total cuntblockers.

Sorry, I’ll try to stay focused.

So then there I was, hiding in the coat closet. Was I overreacting? I mean kind of, but realizing now what that thing was, I think hiding was a pretty solid strategy. Besides, where else was I going to hide? I didn’t exactly grab any clothes on the way out. Now, I may be one of those girls who’s always down for a good time, but I’m not exactly too keen on the idea of running around a party with nothing on apart from Mr. Cyclops, as fun as that would be.

I’d have stolen someone’s coat, but the closet was basically empty. It was a hot night.

Oh, Mr. Cyclops is the name of my dildo. I don’t know if I mentioned that. He’s a real one-eyed monster. I did say I was interrupted in the middle of a three-way, right?

So anyway, I’m hiding out in this closet, praying that no one decides to come investigate, when I spy through the crack in the door a couple walking into the foyer. I did my best not to make any noise as i wiggled around enough to get a good look. I had to be careful not to make any noise. If I got caught it would be my reputation would be up in smoke.

So I’m peering out, and who should I see but Miss Chastity Winters, walking in wrapped around the arm of some geeky looking loser that I don’t think I’ve ever seen at any of these parties before. Nerdy loners can be cute if they put in the effort, but this guy clearly had not. He wasn’t terrible, I guess, and I wouldn’t have kicked him out of bed if he knew what he was doing, but I knew that Chastity had higher standards.

And that meant that Chastity - and no, that’s not her real name - was here on business.

See, Chastity made a career off of her looks, and damn did she ever have a lot of them. Any man who walked in with Chastity on his arm was going to inspire jealousy and admiration, and that’s exactly the sort of service that Chastity offered. By day, a third-year poli-sci student, by night, a professional escort. Not a hooker, mind you, an escort. Sex was on the table, but not guaranteed. That means that this guy had been so hard up for a date that he had hired the poor girl to be his companion for the night.

So, on one hand, that’s sad. I feel bad for the guy, he couldn’t even get a date. But on the other hand, they were both getting exactly what they wanted, and who was I to deny them that? Besides, chastity didn’t take shit from her clients - nature of the job aside. That dude was expected to be a goddanm gentleman.

Honestly, I was a little surprised she hadn’t helped him dress up a little. The contrast between them was just too much. She was in this elegant little skirt that masterfully drew your attention to the sensual length of her leg and her classy open-toed heels. Her blouse was a simple sleeveless thing designed to play off of the regal slenderness of her arms and to draw attention to the radiant glow of her perfectly painted nails. Okay, so maybe it was a little high class for this sort of event, but goddamn she made it work. When it comes to sexy, there’s nothing wrong with standing out from the crowd.

He, by contrast, was wearing a polo, some slacks and a pair of running shoes. Not the worst thing you could wear, but it made him look like he had no clue what he was doing.

The guy didn’t seem to care though, he was grinning like the cat who’d just banged the canary. Sure, he was a little nervous, but he clearly intended to milk this for all it was worth.

To my frustration, rather than moving further into the house and giving me a chance to escape, the couple apparently decided that they were going to loiter around a bit first. The guy, I think, was trying to lay down some rules, or coach her into something. Maybe he was hitting on her in earnest? Chastity was a professional, but she didn’t seem to like what she was hearing.

I shifted positions, trying to get comfortable while still having a decent view. I had sort of ended up in a weird kind of half squat and that was simply not sustainable. That’s when Mr. Cyclops leapt up and slapped that stupid box right out of my hands. Look, it was dark, okay? As fun as it is to have 12-inches of primal phallic power jutting out of your hips, sometimes it gets in the way. Honestly, I don’t know how boys go around with these stupid things all the time anyway without knocking stuff down left and right.

I picked the box back up and looked at it in the dim light. It looked like some kind of prototype radio or remote control or something. It had the kind of slapdash appearance you’d expect from something made by either a student or a mad scientist. I turned it over in my hands. It had a pair of dials on one side and a handful of little buttons on the other. A weird little antenna stuck out the top.

I twisted one of the dials. I was kind of expecting that maybe they were just glued on, like the whole interface was decorative or something, but the dial gave a satisfying spin. What the fuck was this supposed to be?

Looking back, maybe pressing the buttons at random wasn’t my best idea. But hey, that’s how you figure things out, isn’t it? Sure, there was a chance this thing was a weapon - that weird girl had sure treated it like one - but it didn’t really seem all that plausible at that moment. Besides, If it was a weapon... well... I made sure to aim it away from myself, just in case.

Zzzztttt!

How do I even describe that noise? It was like... it was like hearing someone unzip your eardrums. Loud and personal and echoey. No time to dwell on it though, the box had suddenly gotten very hot in my hand. Too hot. Before I realized what was happening I’d dropped it.

I struggled not to cry out a string of bloody profanity as the damn thing landed corner-first on my naked foot.

Shit. Shit shit, had they heard that zapping noise? Or me dropping the thing or me banging around? Like, don’t get me wrong, it was a loud party, but that zapping sound felt like I’d been run over by a zeusaphone. There was no way they could have missed that, was there?

I held my breath as I peeked out the door. Nothing. They weren’t even looking this way. I blushed in embarrassment. Was I really freaking out this bad over... what? A weird box that made some noise? Jesus, I’d never been more ashamed of myself.

That’s when something weird happened. Chastity leaned in for a kiss. Normally she charged extra for that sort of lovey0dovey stuff. And how does this guy react? He frowns, rolls his eyes, and pulls away. Talk about ungrateful. I’d take a free taste of those lips any day.

So then Chastity shoots the guy a glare, and she leans in and they’re whispering something to each other, and then right then and there Chastity Winters pulls out that cute little purse of hers and passes this guy a big old wad of bills.

He snatches them up and stuffs them in his pocket, grinning a yellow little smile, then he leans in and kisses her sloppily. It looked like the guy had no clue what he was doing, but she was really going for it. It was like Chastity had become victim to some deep primal thirst and this guy’s lips were water.

What the hell was going on? Why was Chastity Winters, who could have any guy she wanted, paying to make out with this loser? Of course, it’s obvious in retrospect what had happened, but at the time I had no idea. I didn’t even give it much mind. I figured it was you know, maybe some kind of prank or something. Like, maybe this was an actor she’d hired for some kind of stunt. Occam’s razor, right?

I certainly did not expect that I had just sent these two down a most unusual change of vocation.

Deciding not to worry too much about it, I picked the box back up and looked at the thing. I was still completely red-faced. I couldn’t believe that all this thing did was make a little noise and get hot. I mean, none of the buttons or dials or anything were labeled, but it had to do something, right?

I spun the dials around, twisting them as far as they’d go. Maybe if I spun them to the right spot, they’d lock into place or something? Maybe it was some kind of puzzle and there was something inside?

I tried the big black button again.

Zzzzttttt!

Nothing. It didn’t even get hot this time.

I rotated one of the other dials and tried again.

Zzzzttttt!

Again, nothing.

I tried one last time.

Zzzzttttt!

Okay, okay. Maybe I could find the girl and apologize. I could just explain that I overreacted and... fuck, I don’t know, maybe I could seduce her and her boyfriend back into bed as a means of apology. Mmm, that would be really hot, actually. They both had such cute asses, It would be heaven to just get them down on the ground and fuck them both doggy style. Or maybe we could do some double penetration, or like, a girl sandwich or something.

Okay, yeah, that was a good plan. I just needed to wait for Chastity and her date to leave and then I could slip away upstairs. At the very least I could then get some clothes on. As fun as it sounds, going around naked at a party is a little much, even for me.

What I saw when I peered out the crack next, however, sent me reeling.

I blinked and looked again. It was like something out of a body-horror movie. It was like... how do I even begin to describe what I was seeing? It was like... it was like someone had torn the two of them apart bodily, shuffled up the pieces, then stitched them back on the wrong body. Except, you know, with way less blood.

I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to you, you know full well what the thing can do.

Never before in my life had I ever had cause to question my sanity, but what else but madness could explain what I was looking at? Their heads were the same... kinda... but the guy’s torso now prominently featured Chastity’s enormous tits jutting out from under his shirt. And attached to that torso? Arms and legs that in no way belonged there. They were Chastity’s, they must have been, the guy’s nails - both the ones on his fingers and the ones sticking out of his open-toed heels - were all done up in the same bright red I’d seen on her just moments ago.

Was this some kind of trick? My eyes traveled up from his feet along the bare skin of long silky legs which seemed to go on forever before they disappeared beneath that same cute skirt that she had been wearing not long ago. Fuck, this was no trick. No guy had legs like that. God, he seemed so tall now, both because of the heels and because of the additional length that the legs added to his height.

Chastity was stunningly the opposite. Her torso was still the same... shape? I guess? But now, not only was it now completely devoid of boobs, but her once-daring neckline now exposed a tuft of manly curls. Her arms were just as bad. The big hairy things seemed almost trunk like on her small frame. Her legs seemed so short and stumpy, but I couldn’t get a good view of them in the loose pants and men’s shoes that she was now wearing.

Okay, I told myself, maybe this was all some kind of weird quick-change game. Like, maybe this was some weird prank that didn’t make any sense because I’d stumbled onto an interstitial portion of it. But... but then how the hell was all of Sandra’s makeup now on the guy? Blush, eyeshadows, lipstick, all of it was gone from her beautiful face and was now featuring prominently (and ridiculously out of place) on the client’s. There was no way they could have done that so quickly. This wasn’t possible.

What the hell had happened?

I looked down at the box in my hands.

Oh god. Had I done that?

Was that what this thing did? It Just... messed people up like some kind of freaky horror movie?

Chastity - at least I think it was still Chastity - broke the kiss. I held my breath, waiting for them to notice what had happened, waiting for them to scream. But there was nothing. She just looked up at her client like he was the sexiest thing alive, then snaked a hand down and grabbed his big sexy butt.

As if to nail the point home, that’s when a trio of drunken frat dudes decided they were going to stumble through the room. I winced when they saw the couple. I don’t care how drunk you are, there’s no way you’re missing something like that. But they didn’t even give them a second glance. In fact, one of them seemed to recognize Chastity, because they looked over at her client then gave her a surreptitious thumbs up.

So despite how completely fucked up everything was, these people didn’t seem to realize what had happened. Was I hallucinating? Was this stupid box messing with my head?

Cautiously, I spun the dials. Maybe I could change them back?

Zzzzttttt!

Oh my god.

Okay. Yes. Yes, it was definitely me doing it. But that? That had not turned them back. If anything, it had made them worse. Chastity’s head now sat on top of what remained of her client’s body, and vice versa. I’d swapped them so completely that the client was now more her than him.

I must have sat there for an eternity as the reality of the situation washed over me.

This box traded body parts around. It moved their clothes around too. Maybe it could do behaviors? That would explain why they were acting kind of weird. If I pushed it again would they swap back? I mean, it appeared to be a 1:1 trade, so that would make sense, right? My brain buzzed at all the implications.

Before I could get a chance to experiment though, the two walked off into the party. The client’s confident, manly strut completely undermined by his long slender legs and cute perky ass.

Okay, so that girl who had come at me had been... what, trying to steal my body? Jesus, that was a scary thought. Still, a part of me couldn’t help but feel flattered by it. I mean, I was sexy, don’t get me wrong, I’ve worked very hard my whole life to be the best I can be, but she and her boyfriend were both total studs, so I don’t know why she’d be after me.

Oh god, I probably wasn’t even her first victim. Was that even what she really looked like? What else had she swapped? Shit. What if she was like... a professional body-jacker or something. What the hell kind of fucked up sci-fi situation had I gotten myself into?

Fuck.

But, okay, fine. It was a messed-up situation, but now that power was mine, right? I could feel this deep rush of endorphins burbling away at the back of my brain at the thought. I bit my lip. Why was that so hot? Was it a power thing? Or had this just awoken some fetish inside of me that I didn’t even know I had? All I knew was that it had me practically dripping. I needed to test this thing out.

But where to begin?

I peered out of the closet. With that couple gone maybe I could make my break. But, shit, no. All the dancing in the next room had apparently decided to spill over in the foyer. I was going to be trapped in here all night at this rate.

I needed to remain calm. Baby steps. This was as good a place to start as any. First objective: I needed to get out of the closet. I laughed at the thought. Out of the closet. As though I’d ever been in the closet to begin with.

I’m bisexual by the way, in case the fact that I was pounding both Tony Roderick and his girlfriend’s delicious asses earlier didn’t tip you off. Technically I’m pansexual - I’m attracted to people who don’t conform to the binary - but that word has a lot of baggage for me so I prefer not to use it.

Anyway, to get out, I needed clothes. This would be easy. I’d just, like, trade bodies with someone who was fully dressed... then go get my clothes, then trade back. No problem.

I gripped the weird box tightly. I just had to hope that it was going to cooperate.

I peered out. Who could I trade with? I had a practical buffet of choices. Everywhere I looked it was hot bodies in tight clothes.

I mean, there was nothing that even said I had to trade with a girl, right? I could see how the other half lived, if I wanted to. See how it felt to fuck with a real dick. I had to admit, that had a certain perverse appeal to it. But no, now was hardly the time. Still, I’d have to try it later.

Then, wiggling her way to the front of the crowd, was the perfect candidate. Becca Jennings. Sweet little Becca Jennings. The guys called her Pixie-Girl on account of the fact that she was so petite and energetic. It probably helped that she had the hair for it. I don’t know how she made hair that short look so good. If rumors were to be believed she was also magical in bed. I believed it.

She was certainly on-brand. She had this super-simple, super-short dress on that had this kind of ephemeral opalescence to it. It was hypnotizing. Where on earth had she gotten it? She was completely lost in the moment out on the dance floor, grinding away with some random guy one moment only to flit away to dance with some other random guy the next. She was like a slutty little bee in a sea of yummy boy-flowers.

Becca was a good target. If anything went wrong, or if I couldn’t find her later or anything, I had a poly-chem class with her Tuesday morning, so I’m sure I’d be able to catch up with her there and trade back.

I spun the dials around and did my best to point the thing at her. It was harder than I expected to aim the damn thing, especially with the way she kept moving around. God I hoped I didn’t miss. What would happen then? I’d wind up with some random person’s body? I took a slow breath. That was okay. Even if that happened, I could always just trade back, right? How hard would it be to track down if I lost it? It was the one without clothes on.