It’s Wednesday, and it’s been a couple of days since you slipped out of De’Nyssa and into the supple skin of Rachel O’Leary. You stretch her long legs for another day, stepping into the mirror to enjoy her figure.
Rachel is an oddity for Irish women – busty and lusty, but still a fiery redhead. You’re in love with her massive, soft, squishy, bouncy and – you refuse to believe it – all natural freckled breasts with perky nipples. She has a pair of killer legs (the best you've seen so far!) - two veritable pillars, sprouting from a big, peachy ass into heart-shaped hips and strong calves. And in the middle, an impossibly thin waist holding your top body.
Which her height makes most impressive. She’s 6 foot 2 inches tall, but no one would know by seeing her on a picture, due to the size of her curves and her penchant to take selfies to make herself look small and petite. Her clients never suspect, and she delights at seeing them stare in awe.
But her beauty wouldn’t be complete without a lovely face, and hers is almost angelical – round, with a thin nose and lips swallowed by cherubic cheeks peppered with faint freckles accenting her beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her lovely wavy and natural red hair, left largely untouched since she was a child, makes her face look thinner and graceful. That massive mane reaches to her hips, giving her a Godiva look when in the nude.
And unlike the other two girls of the Five you’ve worn, Rachel keeps her genitals draped in a stiff rug of short, fiery red hair.
You step outside the bedroom after asserting her identity to find Leah reading a magazine. She’s your housemate and your complete opposite – small and less curvy, with short and chaotic black hair, and tattoos on her arms. She notices you and grins. “Hey, Rach.”
“Hey, Lee-Lee.” You kiss her on her forehead, throwing your arm around her waist and bringing her closer. Leah and Rachel have been close friends for a couple years now, to the extent neither of them cares about casual cuddling.
If you can call this “cuddling”. Ever since you met her, Leah has acted coldly – like she doesn’t mean what she’s saying. And her responses...
“Did you like our fun time yesterday?” you ask.
She giggles, bats her eyes and nods. “Yes,” she says, almost robotically. “Of course.”
You shouldn’t feel anything for her, but you do. Rachel would be in despair if she saw what Leah has become – a cheap hooker, just like herself. You, on the other hand, feel pity – pity at her cute best friend, turned into something worse than an emotionless robot.
--
But when she’s worn? Things differ. Life returns to her eyes, to her moans, to her cuddles. It makes your pussy squirm with happiness. The sex becomes so incredibly good that, by the end of it, it brings you into tears.
And she notices. “You’re not telling me fucking with a girl makes you all sentimental.”
“It’s not that...!” You sniff, storing all your tears. “I’m so glad you slipped into her, Cass.”
“Always glad to put on another hot babe, bestie.” She touches her new slim figure, awed. ‘God, she’s small but fierce.”
“Yeah,” you confirm, laughing at her comment. “She does.”
“Are you on your period or something?”
You snort, slapping Cassie away. “No, you dingus! It’s just that... Ugh, it’s so weird to fuck with someone without feeling!”
“Yeah, I know the case.” Cassie pulls Leah’s face off hers, blowing a lungful of air. “Woof! It’s fucking hot in here!”
“I’d be disturbed if I didn’t know,” you reply. “But now? It’s kinda hot.”
“Not gonna lie,” she says in that familiar childish tone, “she’s got a cute face.” She grabs her breasts and fondles them. “Small, but likeable. I could probably fool Ashie with these.”
She’s too distracted, so you slip off her, looking to pee. She notices, however – perhaps more than you do. “Jesus... I know when I fucked up, and I fucked up badly. Is it really that bad, bestie?”
“She’s supposed to be my friend, Cass! More than that – almost like sisters! You know how they met, right?”
“Uh...” She looks aside, deep in thought. “You... stole her from her dad?”
“Yeah, because she felt she couldn’t be herself in there! You know why we became friends?”
“Because...” Obviously Cassie doesn’t, but Leah’s telling her. “Her dad’s name is Jacob?”
“Exactly!”
“And why does that matter?” You look at her, waiting for Leah to answer. “Ah, because of the Bible.”
“Because Jacob was Leah’s husband, and also Rachel’s - because they were sisters. Didn’t you go to a church at least once?”
“What we’re doing isn’t exactly religious,” she points out. “Not that I paid too much attention to the priest.” Her eyes darken, nodding very slowly. “Yeah - but Leah had to. See – that's what happens when your dad’s a Bible-thumper – you get rebel daughters like me.”
“Was Mom a Bible-thumper?”
“Nah. Pretty cool.” She looks at the tattoos in her arms, rubbing at one in particular – one of a bleeding heart, wrapped in linen with the word “Freedom” written in it. “It’s weird. She did this one when she finally escaped her dad.”
“And that one,” you say as you point to another – one of a heart comprised of two blood drops, with her name and Rachel’s written in it, “when we swore to be more than friends.”
“She’s still gonna be your friend,” she says, trying to console you. “Your ‘blood sisterhood’ won’t change.”
“Yeah, but she’s not gonna be my friend.” You cover half of your face in frustration. “What I mean is... Yeah, she’s gonna be, but not the one Rachel knew. It’s like...”
“A sex doll with some fucked-up AI that screws up at the worst moment?”
“Yes!” (God, Cassie, you get it!) “You know how horrible it is that she doesn’t ask me how I’m doing or anything? And I know she’s faking an orgasm – unlike you, y’know.” You wrap your arms around you, grimacing. “How does Mom do it?”
“With the pens.” You turn to meet Cassie as she grins mischievously. “There are more than the black and brown, y’know.”
You seek them, right at the night table. You study them carefully – fine design, almost indistinguishable from expensive pens but without a visible writing point. They could be magic wands for all you know. "Have you ever wondered how they work?” you ask. “What happens to the people turned into skins?”
“You tell me. You were turned into one.”
“I told you already – it's like being asleep, but without dreams. But I mean to the body – where does all that mass go?”
“Maybe to a pocket dimension or something – else, it couldn’t return.” That was quite insightful of Cassie – a reminder that Quentin, her owner, is a smart and nerdy guy under that wildfire of a woman. “Who cares – as long as they’re wearable and they can return, it’s fine by me.”
You grab the brown pen, studying it. “But they’re still there, y’know. Else, how we could tap into their knowledge?”
“As long as I can fool anyone into being Cassie or this bitch, fuck if I care.” She stands up, very straight, as something crosses her mind. “Though, I wonder how the green pen does the cloning.”
“Green pen?”
“Oh yeah!” she exclaims. “You don’t know about that. Mom uses it to create new skins from existing ones. It’s shocking to watch.”
So that’s how they made this Leah. It’s a clone, a facsimile of the real one, stored in the by-house. You wonder, though, if it's any different from your own facsimile of Rachel. “Does it feel like I’m the real one?”
Cassie snorts. “Fuck if I know.” She then goes very pensive. “I mean – you could fool Leah, that’s for sure, but I don’t know her personally.”
Then, she approaches you, throwing her arm around you. “You don’t have to worry about anything, girl. Most people won’t care if you’re doing it perfectly or not.”
“Mom would.”
"Mom’s really satisfied with you.” She slaps your ass and bites her lip. “Jesus, give me the recipe!” She snaps back, though still astonished. “Hell - even Barbie’s surprised! Did you know she knows the guy you fucked up with Bibeebee?”
“Bibee?”
“You know, the big Black bitch you wore last week!”
“De’Nyssa?”
“Yeah!” she exclaims. “That one! Dude, you know how much I’ve wanted to be inside her? How did it feel? Don’t hold anything!”
You smirk, lifting your eyebrow. “She twerks like a goddess – I mean, a little ass shake, and I felt every eye turning on my direction.”
“You don’t have to shake it to catch mine. God, she’s hot!”
“But I dunno...” You cross your arms, lifting your breasts. “I like this one too.”
“I agree,” she says, leering hungrily at you. “You definitely got the girls with the best curves...” She leaps at the bed, causing Leah’s head to smack her face. “Dammit,” she says as she spits. “I think I swallowed some of her hairs.”
"Tells you to be more careful.” You don’t know if that’s Cassie or Leah being silly, but you know that’s Rachel's maturity speaking.
“It’s fun to get smacked by an empty head. Should that be ‘smacked by an air-head'?”
The only airhead here is you, you think to yourself.
“Anyways, Diddy and Barbie were friends since high school and started dealing together." She looks at you very seriously. “Just so you know, I'm talking about the guy you fucked up. So when she said you played him good, that was her old life speaking. She’s planning some deal between them – and Mom’s giddy.”
“And you?”
She twirls her blonde locks, grinning. “I’m happy just to have someone I can be myself with. Don’t stop being that sunshine, y’hear?”
She pulls up Leah’s face on hers, and soon, she’s your old friend once more. But this time, full of life.
Though her smelly strap-on and the hungry look in her face tell you she’s not the one on top. “This time? I want you to ride me, cowgirl...”
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