Tessa Wright may be beautiful despite her age, but she has a vicious way of seeing life. (Or, well – the man draped in her flesh.) She sees something in you that you can’t comprehend, but she leaves no slights unanswered. She claims to believe in “karmic” justice; whether that’s true or not, she’s a damn clever woman.
Which is why you ended up inside Helen Morris. You really can’t say if you got off light, but you’re an old woman in her sixties for the foreseeable future.
There is brilliance in her punishment. You’re a couple blocks away from home, enough that you could probably walk there, but you’re restrained in multiple ways. Taking a cue from yourself, Trevor Lachlan – the man “wronged” by Ashley Wright, by which she now forfeited her own life for his comfort – has taken away your keys, other than the one in the back yard. He also placed a halter tight enough to prevent you from taking the skin off, and locked it in such a way you can’t even access it. (Ashley argued your sudden “dementia” as reason)
And even if you can walk on your own, it’ll be difficult. Helen Morris’s feet are withered and walking feels like dragging bags of sand, forcing her to use a walker which severely limits your mobility. You’re free to move inside your house, but moving outside will be a chore.
You realized, as soon as you woke up from that deathly slumber, that “Ashley” wasted no time enacting her revenge. Something in her has changed. Her pose, for example, is more delicate and feminine, and even her tone has softened. Though it hasn’t softened enough – Trevor Lachlan still speaks behind her lips, and he has a vicious tongue.
“About time you woke up,” she says in a dark tone. “I don’t know what M... What Mom sees in you, but you got her off in a good mood.”
“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask in Helen’s gruff, garbled voice.
“Mom said you’re on 'time-out'. Since you’re so eager to be on a woman’s skin, she figured you could spend some time inside that old hag.”
“I’m pretty sure the real Ashley wouldn’t say that,” you retort, feeling it’s the only way to fight her.
“True. I see Mrs. Morris as a grandmother – well, I saw her as a grandmother. Still need to keep appearances, but I’ve seen her studies. She’s dying slowly.”
Fuck, you think to yourself. Tessa left me inside a dying woman.
“I’ll arrange it so it becomes an unfortunate downfall – Mother’s idea – but I’d prefer the spend the rest of my life all to myself.”
“What did she do to you?” you ask, feeling the bitterness in his tone. “Ashley, I mean.”
She sits down, crosses her leg elegantly, and sighs. “I was a teacher’s assistant in her school. Still needed a bit more to grow up into this hottie, but she was already getting there. She was a hopeless flirt – I was a hopeless flirt, I should say – and she caught my attention.”
You want to decry his despicable attitude, but you’re no better than him. He still doesn’t command your sympathy, though. “You tried to get your way with her.”
“Exactly.” She rubs the bridge of her nose, deep in thought. “Y’know, now that I got her mind, I realize I kinda fucked up. She definitely wasn’t flirting with me, and she wasn’t even interested.”
“Then why do this?”
She gives you a very dark glare – you touched his nerve. “She could’ve said something. Try to reach an arrangement. Instead, I lost my job, my liberty, and got registered as a sex offender. Can’t get a fucking job, can’t get a life... It was just a kiss and a grab – just like the kids at her school did – but she blew it out of proportion.”
You’re unsure if Trevor’s sweetening the tale, but you know two things. First, Tessa somehow has a way to give people the memories and personality of the skins they’re wearing. And second, having Ashley’s memories in him makes Trevor feel guilt for his actions.
But not enough to release her. “So, I went for the second-best thing. She ruined my life; I’ll take hers in exchange.” She fondles with her breasts, grinning with excitement. “I’ll love carrying these puppies for a long time. Good thing I know all she knows – that cushy job of hers will give me all I need to life it out comfortably.”
“And you were about to lose everything when I caught you.”
“That’s why I can’t get that...” She bites her tongue, grunting. “Why I can’t get Mom’s decision. She put you inside her body as a form of punishment, since you need my help, but she doesn’t want to get rid of you.”
“So, you want me dead.”
“Maybe, I guess. You wanted to steal my life. You’re no different from me, but you got no honor. Ashley’s mine, man. Why couldn’t you get someone else to play with?”
“She’s hot--” You pause, figuring some fawning wouldn’t hurt. “You’re hot. And she was available, so I figured--”
“Yeah, I get what Mom says. That was gutsy of you, kid.” She takes a deep breath and leaps off the couch, cornering you. “Tell you something. I appreciate you got my toy off this place and clean it. It’s my thing, but at least you treated it with respect. Maybe I won’t treat you like the little shit you are, but I’ll definitely have my fun with you.”
“Beats having me dead if you can torture me, right?”
Trevor snickers in Ashley’s voice, smirking. “I like your bite, kid. Let’s see how fun this’ll be for both of us.”
--
For all his talk about “honor”, Trevor can be an asshole. But he does at least honor his word.
Like always, Ashley pays you a visit, from the moment she steps out from work to around six or seven. She also steps in during mornings to help you with breakfast, making sure you’re well-fed. (Even if the food’s bland, because of Helen’s diet.) And she helps you bathe by stepping in, naked, to scrub you clean.
But he’s deliberately rough on the scrubs, and your slowness makes him impatient, occasionally shoving you to the floor. He doesn’t want to reveal if you’ll suffer the effects of diabetes, refusing to monitor your blood pressure and keeping the insulin pen out of hand. (You know how to work the device yourself, though, and you self-monitor – fortunately, your sugar seems right, so that helps.)
It’s obvious he doesn’t want to be there with you, but he has to. He’s comfortable knowing Tessa built a little Hell for you, since you lack Helen’s memories to defend yourself. She has no entertainment you could pass time with – her channels are all limited to church services, Fox News and similar, and a couple arts & crafts, travel and other bland channels. (You’ve taken to put on the History channel, though you feel you’re learning less history through it.)
You’re lying, though, since you do have a bit of entertainment. At bed, when everyone’s asleep, you still have Helen’s body to yourself. You’re not different from Trevor or the guys he’s hanging with, and you figure you should make the best out of it.
It’s hard to do so with someone as ugly as Helen, though. Tired eyes and saggy cheeks meet you, her entire body dragged down by gravity. Her once-large breasts are now fallen – empty and fun-less bags of flesh – and her ass is huge but deformed, merged with her rotund body. Her forearms and legs are thinner than the rest of her body and her skin is mottled and dry, and very itchy. Her voice sounds dead and lifeless, perennially bored even when it shouldn’t.
And no better proof than when you try to play with her dry and wrinkled pussy, when you finally hit her spot after a world of pain. You have to imagine Ashley’s supple body to excite you, and all you can muster is mooing like a cow when you moan. You’ve taken to humor your torment by asking an imaginary man with a little dick to pound your old hag pussy harder, until your body can’t give any further.
Perhaps the biggest torture is knowing nothing about your family. You spend hours looking outside the door, looking for clues. Ashley refuses to tell you anything, and the one time Edna slipped in to speak with you, she claims knowing nothing about the Anderson’s missing a child. Only once you saw Nick’s pick-up passing through, with someone looking exactly like you.
Your family isn’t missing you, it seems. You have been completely replaced. Seems your fate is to live the rest of your days as a withered old hag.
--
Yet, not all hope is lost. A week has passed since this (you think), and you see people visiting Ashley. Soon, they also visit you – Tessa and Cassie are checking up, it seems.
“Hello, darling.” Tessa’s voice and words make you feel like you’re seeing God – or Goddess, since that would be more appropriate. “How’s your little punishment?”
“Working to make it not seem like that.”
“I like your attitude,” the aged beauty says. “I spoke to Ashley about you. It seems she’s gotten his fill of revenge.”
“What does that mean?”
“Says it’s not fun torturing you.” Cassie steps out from Helen’s bedroom, wiping the scent off her nose. “Woof! You’ve had some fun with Rosie, haven’t you?”
“I’d die of boredom otherwise,” you say in your bored, monotone voice.
“I like that you made something out of your situation, my dear. I spoke to Ashley, and she says no one suspects something’s wrong with you. You’ve managed to convince people that you’re the real Helen Morris.”
You weakly flail your legs, giving her reasons. “Not like it’s hard to.”
“Ashley even says you could fool her out.” Tessa crosses her leg – just like Ashley does – and smiles. “I knew I saw that in you.”
“Should that mean something?”
Tessa nods, drawing a little box from her purse. “Time-out’s over. You’ve piqued my interest, and I have a little proposal for you. But before that...”
She hands the black pen to Cassie, who points it at you. “Time to say night-night, Davey.”
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