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“I don’t think I could pull it off,” you say, gesturing at Riley’s deflated body. “The songs, the clothes…”

You get cut off when the door to Riley’s dressing room opens. Both you and Jimmy’s heads snap round to look at the interloper - A young Asian woman. Her hair is dyed a vivid and artificial shade of red and piled up in an artfully constructed mess almost as big again as her head. Almost every strand is carefully and deliberately placed, giving lie to the almost bird’s nest like appearance.

Her outfit is just as revealing as Riley’s, a skintight dress with a black and white tiger stripe print that barely covers her upper thighs. It clings tightly to her stick thin, painfully thin, frame. You can almost make out her ribs through the dress and her small breasts are outlined by the fabric. Her nipples poke through the dress too, making it clear she isn’t wearing a bra.

You’ve seen her before, on a poster in Trish’s bedroom. She is Vanessa Zhōu, lead guitarist for Analytical Engine.

“Hey Riley,” she says, taking a lollipop out of her mouth, presumably she got it from the rider outside. Her SoCal accent is, if anything, thicker than Riley’s. She looks at you, at Jimmy and then finally at the bundle of flesh and hair that is the remains of her bandmate. “What the fuck…”

She doesn’t get any further. Jimmy lifts the black pen again and zaps her.

“Dude,” you exclaim. “You can’t keep on going around doing that!”

“I just did,” grins Jimmy, flashing that wicked smile of his again. He closes the door Vanessa left open. “Hey, this is even better.”

“Better,” you splutter. “How?”

“Now we can both go out on stage,” he grind again. “You know, if you don’t want Riley you can go out as that chick. Get inside her skin, wouldn’t that be fucking amazing, huh? Huh,” ne nudges you encouragingly.

“She’s even worse Jimmy,” you sigh. “I can’t play guitar.”

“You will with this,” he says, pulling out the brown pen and waggling it. “I tried it out earlier, when you zap yourself with a suit on you get the memory and mannerisms of that person. How’d you think I was able to lead you straight to Riley,” he asks. “This dude knew it all,” he adds, taping the side of his head.

You look at the deflated body of Vanessa again. Those exotic eyes are twisted out of shape and empty, surrounded by thick eyeliner. You kneel down beside her and smooth out the hollow face with your hand, admiring it: The perfectly arched eyebrows, the dainty little nose and the blood red lipstick that adorns her lips. It matches exactly the shade of her hair

Vanessa isn’t a natural beauty, not like Riley, but her lithe frame is packed with something that you can’t quite identify. A special energy that shines through, even in her reduced state. You idly daydream about putting on the skin and going out on stage. Prancing about in front of the screaming, adoring audience as you riff on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to play guitar.

You caress the skin again and realize, to your embarrassment, that your pants are starting to tent.

That makes up you mind and you start stripping your clothes of with mounting excitement. They go in a rough heap in the floor as they come off. You don’t care anymore, you will not be needing them where you are going.

You are dimly aware of a flopping sound behind you and turn round to see that Jimmy is doing the same, and has even taken the suit of the security guard off. You blink a couple of times and turn rapidly away again. Looking at your girlfriend’s mother naked, even if she is holding the Riley suit ready to put on, isn’t an image you want to remember.

You discard the last of your clothes and pick up the suit of Vanessa, disentangling it from her clothes. Standing up, you hold her golden skin by the head and give it a shake until it rolls out and hangs loosely. An inviting slit runs the length of her back, from the nape of her neck to her pert ass.

You run a hand across your mouth. It feels dry and you can not contain yourself any longer.

As quick as you can, you pull on the legs of the Vanessa suit. You marvel at the way they come back to life, and the way that your own legs shrink down to Vanessa’s lithe proportions as they slide inside the skin.

But the best is yet to come. Your hard-on, by now, is raging, yet you watch in wonder as you hike Vanessa’s skin up above your waist. For a few moments, the skin is distended and stretched, just the way your pants were a few moments. Then the mound starts to sink, reshaping to match Vanessa’s flat groin. You have only a second to marvel at Vanessa’s shaven pussy before a tide of alien sensations overwhelms you. That familiar hardness is replaced with a loose, warm and wet sensation, causing you to squeal involuntarily.

“Keep it down dude,” hisses Jimmy from behind you. His voice sounds different somehow and, after turning briefly round, you realise he’s already in the Riley skin. Her voice sounds odd without that thick accent.

You ignore him and keep pulling on the skin. Arms slide in empty sleeve-like arms and they swell to the same lithe proportions as the rest of Vanessa’s body. No longer flat, but still slimmer than your own arms. You pull the torso close, wrapping it round your own body. There is a momentary pain as your body shrinks to fit and then you can feel the skin as if it were your own. The cold air in the dressing room causes your newly acquired nipples stiffen. You lift a couple of slim fingers to your left breast and give it a gentle tweak. Though Vanessa’s breasts are nowhere near as generous as Riley’s, in fact they barely register at all, you are still rewarded with an intense jolt of pleasure that sparks all the way down the back of the your spine.

“Oh my god,” you moan softly.

“Good huh,” asks Jimmy, and this time with Rileys SoCal drawl. He must have used the brown pen. “Still need to finish up and get dressed though dude, otherwise the rest of the bands going to have a fucking shock when they see you.”

You roll your eyes, but he has a point. Or should that be she has a point now? All that remains is Vanessa’s head. It hangs about your neck loosely, the styled red hair clinging and giving shape to it, such is the amount of hairspray she used to create the look. With a quick tug, you pull it over your head and massage it into place with those slim fingers. The skin settles into place, leaving your disorientated for a few seconds until Vanessa’s face is your own. That mess of hair feels heavy on your head. You laugh a little, and it comes out in a light, feminine, register.

Before you can do anything else, you feel a sharp jolt hitting you in the back. Spinning round, you see Jimmy’s grin plastered over Riley’s face. She’s holding the brown pen, pointed directly at you. Vanessa’s memories start to crawl inside your skull: Her first kiss, guitar lessons, the disappointment her parents felt when she told them she was going to be a musician: It’s all there. Crucially, the memories of playing the band’s songs filter into place and your flex those slim fingers in anticipation. You know now that they can move across the fretboard with frightening speed.

“Hey ‘Nessa,” says Jimmy, mimicking Riley perfectly. “Ready to go?”

‘Nessa’s, it’s what her friends call her, personality slips into place. “Well not naked, duh,” you drawl. It feels so natural just being her, so relaxing. Your stance shifts subtly, slipping into something more laid back. A little ‘Nessa memory tells you she smoked a little something in her dressing room earlier to take the edge off. You fish ‘Nessa’s panties out from her dress and slip into them. They feel snug against your crotch and you can’t help but hug yourself and let out a girlish giggle. “I am so stoked for tonight,” you say breathlessly.

“Is that ‘Nessa or David talking,” asks Jimmy raising Riley’s eyebrow.

“Come over here and find out,” you smile, flashing Nessa’s perfect teeth. She sometimes spars with Riley like this, and Riley can give just as good as she gets. That said, while Riley is happy to experiment with both sexes, ‘Nessa is one hundred percent straight. That thought leaves you momentarily nervous, especially when you realise that one of her habits is picking up a good looking guy from the audience and taking them back to her dressing room. Suddenly that lollipop she had earlier seems ominous.

“You ok,” asks Jimmy.

“Just thinking about something,” you mutter as you slip ‘Nessa’s dress over your head, tugging it into position. It feels far to short to the David part of you, but just perfect as far as your ‘Nessa persona is concerned.

“Whatever,” replies Jimmy.

(Author: imaj)