Helen lets Maisie have her body

'If... if that's what you want, Maisie. If that's what it takes for you to trust me, then yes. You can have my body, for a while. If it will make things right.'

Helen could sense Maisie's glee, the girl's anticipation. It was unsettling.

'Good, because I was going to take it anyway. I've learnt a lot of interesting stuff from your memories, including the spell you used to possess me. I'll catch you later, yeah?'

Before Helen could respond, she felt a surge of energy, a rush of power. Her vision blurred, her head spinning. She steadied herself, her hands gripping the edge of the park bench. She blinked, her vision slowly returning.

Her head felt strangely empty, hollow. She reached out with her mind, and found only her own mind and her host's memories. She was alone in her head, the voice of Maisie gone.

"She'd better not do anything stupid," Helen muttered, a chill running down her spine. She realised she wasn't exactly in a position to lecture anyone on morality, after her encounter with Mr. Drummond, and her experience with Adam. Adam. What would Maisie do with him? Helen's stomach lurched at the thought.

Feeling increasingly anxious, Helen got up and started walking, trying to clear her head. The sun had set, and the streetlights were starting to come on, casting a cold, artificial glow over the streets. As much as she tried to reassure herself that Maisie wouldn't do anything rash, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

The air was cool and damp, the sky heavy with the promise of rain. She'd have to get home before the weather broke. To Maisie's home.

She walked briskly, her head down, her shoulders hunched. Her thoughts were a jumble, her emotions a mess. She felt guilty, ashamed, but also angry and frustrated. She'd tried to do the right thing, to help someone, and look where it had got her.

She'd only made things worse, for herself, and for Maisie. Maybe it would have been better if she'd never interfered. Maybe she'd made things worse by trying to help.

She pushed the thought aside. It was too late for regrets now. All she could do was try to make amends, to make things right.

She reached Maisie's flat, and fumbled with the key, her hands shaking. She opened the door, and stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and damp hitting her like a wall.

Helen tentatively stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She listened carefully, straining her ears for any sound, any hint of Maisie's mum. There was nothing. Helen let out a sigh of relief.

The flat was still a mess, the floor covered in all sorts of clutter. Helen moved carefully, picking her way through the piles of junk, towards the kitchen.

On the worktop, amongst the dirty dishes and food wrappers, she spotted a notepad with a scrawled message:

'Gone to Gary's. Maybe away 4 the week. Money on dresser. Mum.'

"Well, this makes things easier," Helen muttered, the knot in her stomach loosening a little.

She looked around, and saw the dresser in question, a mismatched piece of furniture that was probably rescued from a skip. On top of it, amongst the clutter, was a pile of notes.

Helen reached for the money, counting it quickly. Fifty pounds. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her going for the week. She put the notes in her purse, and turned her attention to the rest of the flat.

"I can't think with this place looking like a pigsty," she said, rolling up her sleeves. "Maybe this will help take my mind off things."

For the next hour, Helen busied herself cleaning and tidying the flat, putting things away and throwing out the rubbish. It was therapeutic, and she lost herself in the work, the mundane tasks helping her to forget, for a moment, the mess she was in.

She was almost done when she heard Maisie's phone buzz. Helen felt her stomach clench, a flicker of worry running through her. She thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of her.

It was a message from an unknown number, a video file attached. Helen tapped the icon, and the screen filled with the image of a familiar bedroom. The camera was pointing at a mirror, and in the reflection, Helen could see herself.

Only, it wasn't her. It was Maisie. Helen felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched the girl on the screen start to undress, peeling off her clothes and tossing them aside.

Maisie's fingers brushed over her body, teasing her breasts, running down her stomach, between her legs. Helen watched, transfixed, as the girl began to touch herself, her fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, her eyes locked on the mirror, on her reflection.

Helen couldn't look away, her gaze fixed on the screen. She felt a flush of heat wash over her, a tingling sensation building between her legs.

"I'm loving your body so far, Helen," Maisie's voice came from the speaker, the girl's eyes half-closed. "I'm definitely gonna enjoy myself."

Helen felt her heart pounding, her breath coming in short gasps. She was watching herself, but it wasn't her. It was Maisie, in her body, touching herself. The thought was both arousing and terrifying.

Maisie's fingers moved faster, her breathing growing heavier, her skin flushed. Helen felt the tingling between her legs intensify, her pulse racing. A hand snaked down her body, her fingers finding their way beneath her leggings. She was wet, and she began to touch herself, her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Oh yeah," Maisie moaned, her eyes locked on her own reflection. "Look at that, Helen. Look at yourself, getting off. Do you like what you see? I do."

Helen gasped, her fingers moving faster, her body trembling. She was mesmerized by the sight of her own body, her own face, being used by the teeanger, by Maisie.

"Fuck yeah," Maisie gasped, her fingers moving frantically. "Fuck yeah, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come in your body, Helen. Are you ready?"

Helen couldn't answer, couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Her fingers were a blur, her body on fire.

"Oh God, yeah, here it comes," Maisie moaned, her eyes squeezing shut, her back arching. "I'm coming, I'm fucking coming!"

Helen watched in fascination as her body in the video writhed and twisted, the orgasm sweeping through her. Maisie's fingers kept moving, drawing out the pleasure, making her shudder and gasp. Then something happened, something unexpected. As Maisie's climax appeared to peak, a gush of fluid erupted from between her legs, splattering against the mirror.

"Holy shit," Maisie groaned, her eyes wide. "You're a squirter! You're a fucking squirter, Helen. That is so hot."

Helen could only stare, her own climax forgotten, her mouth hanging open. She had never squirted before, had never known that her body could do that. How had Maisie brought that out of her?

Maisie was still riding the high, her body glistening with sweat, her eyes glazed. "That was incredible," she murmured. "Your body is amazing, Helen. I could get used to this."

Helen swallowed hard, her head spinning. She had just watched Maisie, in her body, make her come. Hard. She had never experienced anything like it, and she felt a strange mix of desire, jealousy, and shame.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, Helen, because I'm just getting started." Maisie's voice was thick with satisfaction. "I'll be sure to keep you updated, yeah? In the meantime, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

With that, the video ended, the screen going dark. Helen stared at the phone, her thoughts racing. Her fingers were still buried between her legs, the wetness coating them. The mood was broken, her desire tempered by the shock of what she had just witnessed.

"Fuck."