Paris

The click of heels filled the air as I walked down the corridor of the hotel, loving the confident way I strode through the halls. Rushing a little ahead of me, struggling just a little with the bags, ran a teenage hotel porter in an old fashioned uniform. A part of me felt slightly guilty as I watched him struggle with my bags, but the rest of me didn’t really pay it any heed; simply enjoying now not being the one to carry them.

“Right this way, miss.”

Opening the door to my room, he beckoned with a small flourish that caused me to giggle, making him to blush just a little. He’d been very professional overall, and I really had to commend the service, but even then, he was still a teenage boy. I could still feel him checking me out from time to time, gazes he couldn’t quite pull away fast enough from my bust, or my legs. Sometimes I could just feel his eyes on my ass, but I couldn’t help but find it all so flattering. Being desired was such a warm feeling, an affirmation of how sexy I was right now.

“Thank you so much.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I had to resist dropping some kind of lewd suggestion, just to see his reaction, but I managed.

“Mhmm, no, no. You’ve been great. But if I think of something, will you be the one to come see me? I think I’d like that.”

I turned to face him totally, standing a little close. I could see him gulp from nerves as he tried to keep it together.

“Ah-a… yes! Of course.”

“Good.”

My body language was so unashamedly flirty as I turned and he excused himself, leaving me to the hotel room. Opening the curtains, I let the light tumble in, while I took in the view I’d be enjoying for the weekend. Outside the window, I had a perfect vision of a wide Parisian promenade, all 19th century glory and beauty touched on the ground by the mingling crowds of people.

Perhaps I was becoming more twisted, or merely more ambitious, but seeing them milling and wandering the streets, with their conversations and their idle smiles, I couldn’t help but see possibility. Each person down there represented a story; they all had families and friends, loved ones, maybe enemies. Girlfriends, boyfriends, wives and husbands. Tonight, perhaps, I could meet one of them, become fast friends, or faster lovers, sharing in the comfort of each other’s bodies for only an evening, or possibly for a lifetime.

With my powers though, they represented a much greater opportunity than even that. Any one of them could be my new face, my new body, and my new identity. A shameless impersonation, bathing myself in the pleasures of their skin, or their status. Even just thinking about it made me shiver with a certain kind of perverse enjoyment.

But then… it wasn't like I wasn't already in an amazing skin…

Adjusting the way I looked at the window, my eyes refocusing, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass. The woman standing there was beautiful, the shine of luscious copper hair rolling down my shoulders and back in thick waves framing a gorgeous white face with flawless skin. My make-up was just as expertly applied, the glint of glossy red decorating soft lips while delicate subtle eye-shadow enhanced the deep emerald green of my eyes.

A woman in her mid-20s, at the very peak of sexual power and attractiveness. Every trace of awkward adolescence and insecure early 20s burned from her, purified into a form flush with youth yet tempered by experience. Her body perfectly hugged by her well fitted air hostess uniform, carefully considered by the girl herself to maximize her appeal.

I began to squirm a little as I ran my hands up and down my body, feeling the flat stomach and the supple thighs, the inviting hips and the soft breasts. I couldn’t help but giggle as I enjoyed myself, the rich sparks of pleasure at my own touches igniting a warm, excited wetness in between my legs.

This body is so, so unbelievably sexy. Yvette Rousseau… you were such a lucky find! And what makes it even hotter…

Ever since arriving in Paris, I hadn’t spoken English once. The conversation with the hotel Porter, and while checking in, even just reading the signs as I strolled around. Becoming Yvette had given me her fluency in French. I knew that logically, it made sense that these powers should be able to do something like that. If they could steal someone’s body, their memories, even their very soul, taking their language abilities was only natural.

But knowing something logically and experiencing it for yourself were two very different things. Hearing Yvette’s cute voice leave my mouth, weaving sentences together in flawless French, was so intoxicating I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get tired of it. I strutted over to mirror inside the door of the wardrobe, a grand old one to match the luxurious 19th century aesthetic of the hotel room, all to get a better look at myself.

Using these powers, seeing such a beautiful form from behind her eyes, it was all far too addictive. In moments like this, I understood narcissus completely. I slipped out of my heels and let my dainty, pantyhose clad feet touch the carpet as I spun around, admiring my new skin from every angle as I thought about everything that had happened.

I’d been so torn up by Jimmy’s rejection, tearing myself out of Ashley with the dull, painful thud of misery pulsing in my broken heart. It felt like I was losing my best friend, and the life of the perfect girl I craved so much, all in one. Knowing he was going to be having the time of his life with her, and knowing I could never truly live that life, both churned around my head like a slush of dirty ice, a wretched sensation of loss and numb sadness.

I felt the pull of depression sap at my will power as I lay in bed for days after, barely eating, drinking in the dark, doing everything I could just to take my mind off things. Maybe if I’d been normal, I would have stayed like that for weeks. But then, I never would have been able to feel those sensations in the first place if I’d been normal, I never would have been able to get addicted to them, never known their pleasures. In the end, it was the skinwalker side of me that **** me up, and **** me to act. Its hunger had eaten away at my will to resist, and strangely had eaten the lethargy of depression with it.

It needed me to do something, anything. It wasn’t too discerning really, its only requirement was that whatever I did, it was in someone else’s skin. I thought about staying at the university, maybe becoming another student. It would be so easy, and so enjoyable; still getting to enjoy the kind of college life I’d dreamed of, just as someone else this time. My flatmates were the obvious choices, having the misfortune to be living with a guy who just so happened to have been turned into a skinwalker.

Any one of them would have held so many possibilities. Frank, with his body forged in the gym, his wide circle of friends, and his gorgeous girlfriend Alicia, would have been the ideal male fantasy life, one that any guy would be jealous of having. I’d considered becoming him for a time to heal my hurt ego, get over Jimmy and even just get over the whole situation of finding myself being a girl with a crush on a guy, through living the most confident, masculine life possible.

Ultimately though, it couldn’t win out over the much more exciting, much more perverse idea of becoming one of the girls. The aforementioned Alicia for example, Frank’s other half, offered the life of a bright and sunny popular girl, well loved on campus for her cute smile and upbeat personality. Being that adventurous and wholesome young woman, experiencing a true love relationship filled with genuine affection, and the most intense, filthy sex behind closed doors, all from the forbidden female POV, was undeniably attractive.

The other two girls I lived with similarly had deep, though conflicting appeals. Jessica, the bitchy, domineering redhead with a sexy gym bunny body, offered heaps of bad girl attraction, a power fantasy wrapped up in the skin of a succubus. On the opposite track was Grace, a shy and gentle half Japanese girl, her short stature and generous bust only making her that much more adorable coupled with her sweet and feminine good girl personality. Somehow, roleplaying as her and acting so shy and cute almost seemed like the most perverted option possible.

In the end, I’d decided against the whole thing. I didn’t want to replace people I knew, not only because it felt more wrong than replacing strangers, but also because it seemed like the seriously limiting choice. Thinking about it logically, and really opening my mind to the possibilities, I had began to realize that now, the whole world truly was my oyster. I could do whatever I wanted, be whoever I wanted!

The city I studied in was pretty, and had many opportunities. In a lot of ways, it was the ideal college city. But compared to the great capitals of the world, the rich tapestry of experiences that could be had globally? When I realized that, and in light of my desire to get totally away from the situation with Jimmy, I soon found myself planning to get out of there altogether.

It wasn’t as hard as I’d thought, either. Not when I could be anyone. Trying on a few popular faces on campus, and sorting through their memories to find a suitable acquaintance, eventually lead me to a 19 year old girl who was slaving away in her first job as an airport janitor. I didn’t envy her lifestyle, especially as I put in her days work for her, but soon enough the opportunity I’d been hoping for presented itself.

As I cleaned the women’s toilets, Yvette had walked in. As soon as I’d seen her, I knew she would be my new identity. Even in the shitty fluorescent light of the bathroom, her hair shone in its beautiful strawberry blonde color, while from the way her glamorous Air France uniform hugged her body I knew I had to have her form for my own. Carefully setting the “closed for cleaning” sign outside the door gave me the privacy I needed, before I peeled myself out of the janitor girl and began getting into someone a little more exotic.

I could barely contain my excitement, as Yvette’s pale skin was revealed from underneath her uniform, her pretty pink nipples looking perfect even on deflated breasts, as I buried my face in them for a moment, smelling her elegant perfume and the very slightest hint of her natural scent too. Looking over the gorgeous skinsuit I was about to wear, all I could think was how erotic it was going to be, getting to become such a sexy air hostess, as I would be jetting away around the world.

How to get in…? I’ve already gone from the back, through the ass, and through the mouth…

A lewd, embarrassed grin took to my features, as the one orifice I’d yet to try seemed to beckon to my most pervy desires. Changing the way I held Yvette’s naked suit, I took a good look at her pussy, that tight, pink slit that seemed to call for me. My fingers prodded a little, before slipping inside. Even deflated, it was still so warm within; a reminder both that she’d been fully formed just a few minutes ago, and even while deflated was still alive. Those fingers pulled, just a little, feeling the resistance. At first the natural tightness was refusing to give, retaining all of it’s integrity, before all at once it shifted, the inherent pliability of a skinsuit letting it widen beyond it’s everyday means.

“Perfect… I’m so excited.”

I was so grateful for the heavy lifting that cleaners sign was doing outside, keeping the public at bay. In this far cubicle, with the empty skin of the janitor girl I’d been wearing pooled at my feet and the naked one of the air-hostess in my hands, I knew there would be no way to make this look any worse.

“Well… maybe if they walked in when I was half-way inside.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little to myself, before my lustful enthusiasm overwhelmed me and I pushed my face into Yvette’s lower entrance. At first it was so tight, and dark, and hot, almost claustrophobic, that a part of me considered backing out and getting inside her a more normal way. The rest of me though, the elements of me that craved every experience through the most hedonistic lens, couldn’t resist going deeper. I breathed deeply, adoring the utterly feminine scent, before I felt my head seem to go beyond, entering into the empty cavity that existed inside the skinsuit.

My neck and shoulders followed, my own pale body wriggling inside, the tight darkness feeling so strangely welcoming. There was just a little light, up at the top, and that was what I writhed towards. Sure enough, what was letting light in was Yvette’s mouth, which felt all the more enjoyable once I popped my head inside of hers. There was a powerful constriction, her features gluing themselves to mine before they intense sensation subsided, and her face felt even more natural to wear that my own did.

“Ahh, that’s better… Oh! Oh my God, her voice is so cute~”

My own naked dick, totally revealed along with my exposed lower half, practically pulsed as I heard how Yvette’s seductive French accent colored my words as I spoke English. I hurried to take more of her form, snaking my hands down the interior of her arms, and soon I was flexing my new, slender fingers, admiring her cute metallic red nail-polish.

“Ahh, Monsieur Alex, allow me to help relieve you!”

I giggled at my little roleplay, taking the head of my penis in Yvette’s much nicer fingers, beginning to work the length up and down. I pumped it a little, enjoying the feeling, before a better idea came to me.

“Shouldn’t I… get a janitor to clean up any mess here? It’s only fair, after all.”

I couldn’t help but laugh even more at my joke, the **** deviance of what I was about to do providing enough of a naughty thrill as I plucked up the empty skinsuit of the janitor girl and peeled her lips wide. Sliding my dick inside, I immediately felt the warm heat of her mouth, and the deeply erotic feeling of her saliva coating my cock.

The tension of my hands providing the structure to tease my length, I proceeded to turn this unfortunate nineteen year old girl’s throat into my own personal fleshlight, working my shaft in and out of her while I moaned in Yvette’s voice. I found myself slipping in and out of French as I did so, the potent pleasure of what I was doing mingling with the sense of power at my sudden mastery over a new language.

I could barely contain myself beyond the first minute, I was so utterly consumed by pleasure, gasping as I erupted, thick ropes of my seed filling the empty skinsuit’s throat. I scrunched my eyes closed as I basked in the rich feeling of a male orgasm, feeling like something of a novelty now after enjoying so many female ones lately. Just a little sweat had built up on my naked breasts and body, as I idly gave them a squeeze, loving how sweet it felt squeezing Yvette’s tender nipples.

Finally bringing my legs and hips into her pussy, I fully assumed her form, moaning unashamedly as I felt her vagina and womb spear inside of me. Slipping into her bra and panties, and then her uniform, was a supremely enjoyable experience. The way her pantyhose sat on those flawless legs, the feeling as I strutted out in her heels and finally took in my new reflection in the mirror. The elation in my heart as I applied a fresh coat of lipstick, seeing how flawless “my” make-up was even after what had happened, and the pervy knowledge that the real Yvette had been the last one to apply this lipstick, and now I was putting it on those same lips, only now they were mine.

I’d already altered the janitor girl’s memories; and I didn’t even need to do anything to explain why when she woke up, she’d feel like her mouth had been a little defiled. After all, just that morning I’d sucked her boyfriend’s cock while he ate me out, his moans and prayers confirming how much he loved how unusually slutty his “girlfriend” had been that morning.

Shaking my head, feeling the weight of the new copper waves of hair cascade around my shoulders, I focused on the present. Standing in front of the hotel mirror, feeling up the body of Miss Rousseau I’d been so lucky to steal for my own, I couldn’t help by feel an amazing array of possibilities stretch out before me. Wandering over to the window again, I watched as evening came to the streets of Paris, and a slightly more relaxed air came to the city as its denizens began going to dinner, before I threw myself on the bed.

The ultra-luxurious mattress welcomed me as I sank into it, a warm smile spreading on stolen lips. I really didn’t think I could have found a better skin. Lisa, Emmy, Ashley… all of these girls were perfect in their own way… but, and maybe this was just the magnetic thrill of my skinwalker side feeling this way, but it felt as though Yvette was really perfect. Even her personality was ideal; hailing from a dull rural life in central France, from a young age she’d craved adventure, glitz and glamour and travel, distant skylines and exotic beauty. The mediocre life and average men of her hometown couldn’t satisfy her, even if that hadn’t stopped her from trying them more than a few times.

But now she lived a life of excitement, jetting around the world as the gazes of lust and adoration in equal measure from her customers gave her excited shivers. Yvette was a girl who knew she was gorgeous, and loved to show off anyway. Getting to be inside the skin and soul of a woman so showy like that, so indulged in the benefits of her body, it was flattering in a way. Her own craving to be desired matched so perfectly with mine, and it made wearing her soul feel so very complementary. That wasn’t even getting started on the other benefit of her career.

In the next month, she’ll visit Shanghai, Sydney, San Francisco. Even more glamorous cities after that, each time getting some time to explore and enjoy herself. Yvette’s life was a holiday, in essence, and wrapped up inside her I fully planned to take advantage. But those were the pleasures my future self could enjoy. Right now, I had a whole weekend to explore Paris, with the body and memories of a gorgeous French woman to enjoy it in. The only question was;