Chapter #47Three Is A Crowd by: imaj   You drop the golemized mask onto Chelsea’s unconscious face. Instantly, the slim limb stretch and become more defined as the body bulks out. In less than a second, a very naked – you disrobed Chelsea first and given the difference in size between the two you are glad you did – Steve Patterson lies below you.
“I’m going to fuck you up for this,” snarls the golem, its eyes flicking open.
That line might have scared Will Prescott, you can almost feel his persona quivering, but you aren’t Will Prescott any more, not really. “Oh really,” you reply with a sardonic smile that wouldn’t look out of place on the golem’s face. “I think you’re my bitch now,” you snarl. The golem’s face turns a peculiar shade but it says nothing. “Besides, you remember who I really am.”
The golem sits itself up before continuing. “You’re me,” it says. “Or you think you’re me.”
“See,” you interrupt, “Something we both have in common already.”
“Yeah, real fuckin’ funny,” replies the golem, rubbing its hands. “So what do I call you? Prescott or Steve?”
“I think we’ll stick with Chief,” you gloat. “At least in private. In a minute you can call me Chelsea though.”
“You really going to make that swap,” asks the golem. It has the same set of memories that you do, at least up till a few minutes ago. It gives you a strange look. “Why? Gordon’s not going to be happy if he finds out.”
So, it seems that while the mask stores the memories of everything you did whilst wearing it, it doesn’t give any insight into the wearers thoughts an motivations.
“He’s not happy anyway,” you reply and the golem nods in agreement. “And you and I both know who’s fault that is.” Another nod. “All I’m going to do is make life a little easier for him.”
“By fucking him more often,” the golem asks, its face making its distaste clear. “Is that Steve Patterson or Will Prescott talking?”
“Shut your goddamned mouth,” you snarl in reply. The golem instantly falls silent, taking your words as a command. “I’m not keen on the idea either, but this way I can change the cunt for the better, a little bit at a time. If I used a golem, Gordon might notice.” You pace about the loft as you continue, thinking better of mentioning just what you plan to do if Gordon does notice the difference. “So I’m going to take this one for the team. As far as anyone knows, you’re the real Steve Patterson. Unless the real Steve Patterson calls, then you’re a Will Prescott who thinks he’s Steve Patterson. If that happens you let me know immediately. I know you know Chelsea’s number.” You stop and look directly at the golem. “You got all that?” It nods in reply. “And yeah, you can open your mouth again.”
“Got it Chief,” replies the golem with an insincere smirk.
“Don’t fuck with me,” you warn it, waving a finger. “I know how you think. Exactly how you think.” The golem’s smirk vanishes as you give it one final command: “Get going.”
You finger the newly created mask of Chelsea as the golem gathers its clothes, turning it over in your hands. The image of Chelsea is clearly visible in it – not quite a reflection, as there is no Chelsea nearby to cast such a thing, but somehow similar. The little fragment of Prescott’s personality that you still feel inside you is quivering with anticipation. The sick fucker would have been getting off on this and you try to push his personality to the back of your mind, even as you feel your cock stirring in response to his emotions.
Better go through with this before you have any second thoughts.
You lie down on one of the old gym mats on the floor, getting yourself comfortable before lifting the mask above your face. The words Chelsea Courtney Cooper glow faintly on the inside as you lower. For a brief second the glow is all you can see. Then even it fades into darkness as the mask makes contact with your face.
*****
You blink in confusion a couple of times before leaping to your feet. A red mist descends – the last thing you remember is Steve Patterson slamming something onto your face. Oh, is he going to be unhappy once you speak to Gordon. You never really liked him anyway, he’s a bad influence on Gordon and boy has he just given you an excuse to…
And then you remember that you are Steve Patterson, or a cheap copy at least. Chelsea’s rage vanishes as abruptly as it came upon you. Her thoughts are little more than puppet for you to twitch this way and that as you want. Your sneer disfigures Chelsea’s face for a few moments – you like the idea that Chelsea with have her strings pulled for a change. Then, with a little thought, you flare your nostrils and pull your lip up a little and the sneer becomes Chelsea’s.
Briskly, you pick up you new clothes and start putting them on. You don’t stop to linger on the attractions of your new body. With Chelsea’s memories at hand, you know every inch of it from the waves of golden hair on her head down to her dainty little feet. The small part of you that is still Will Prescott howls it’s frustration, but you push it further aside. Better to focus on being Chelsea, you think with a frown. It’ll make things easier.
With your clothes in place, you spend a few minutes using your new makeup mirror to make sure that everything is just so. After all, you’re going to pay Gordon a visit and thank him personally for breaking up Seth and Cindy. Satisfied, you snap the mirror shut and look about the loft with distaste.
Some of the mask components are still lying around. Aware that you are probably sinking a little too much into being Chelsea, you still act on her impulse and try to tidy them away. As you reach the cabinet, you find yourself remembering Prescott’s cousin. Your encounter yesterday was rudely interrupted and now that you find yourself with the right equipment to make use of her special talents, the idea seems more appealing.
More appealing than fucking your best friend at least.
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