I think I'm hooker now

"... I think I'm a hooker now."

Unbeknownst to Tracy, Linda had never left her body. After her sex with Tim, she'd been subtly piloting Tracy, making Tracy believe her perverted desires were her own.

The morning Tracy awoke from her initial possession, she'd noticed almost immediately that something was wrong. Upon seeing her reflection, she called Tim, hoping he'd offer some sort of explanation - or understanding - but he seemed a bit strange. Disheartened, she slumped onto her bathroom floor.

"No one is going to believe I was possessed. Tim probably thinks I'm crazy..." She mutters to herself, her eyes beginning to water. "Am I crazy?"

She draws her hands to her eyes to wipe away the tears when she notices her long fingernails.

"I guess they're not that bad." Tracy says to herself.

As she inspects her fingernails, Linda stirs in her subconscious.

"That's right honey. You love your new look. This is the new you." She commands from depths of Tracy's mind.

"In fact," Tracy stands to admire her body, "I... I actually think I look sort of... hot?"

Tracy brings her hands to her breasts to play with her nipples. The thought of dressing slutty turns her on. She kneads absentmindedly at her tits, while fantasizing about how people might react to seeing her - a good Christian girl - dressing like a whore.

"Honey, you should get your nipples pierced." Linda hints to Tracy.

"Maybe, I should even get my nipples pierced." Tracy says, pinching her nipples. "Or at least go to the shop and... see how I feel when I get there."

Tracy glances vacantly at the mirror, planning her slutty debut. She applies thick eyeliner, red lipstick, and ties her hair into a messy bun. Once satisfied, she returns to her room plan her outfit. She spots the mini dress from the day before on the floor. She was certain the sight of it would fill her with the shame, embarrassment, and hopelessness she felt when she woke, but, instead, she was overcome with desire. She slid into the dress and paired it with high heels.

"I look-"

"Good. You look good."

"...good." Tracy whispers, admiring herself.

She motions to leave but suddenly realizes she forgot to wear underwear. She turns towards her dresser but feels a slight ****.

"Babes, none of my girls ever wear underwear. It's easy access from now on. And you're going to love it."

The slight **** transforms into a total rejection of the idea. For reasons unknown to her, Tracy no longer sees the point in underwear. The fact that her bare pussy lies just out of sight seems perfectly natural.