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Help finding old M2F possession story (Request)
From: guest , 4 months, post #1
I think it was a short story, and I can't remember if I found it on fictionmania or somewhere else, but it was about a guy that gets some strange new drug from his local drug dealer to help him relax. It gives him an out of body experience and he ends up possessing the body of his female upstairs neighbor. It ends with him leaving her body and wanting to buy more of that drug. Would appreciate any help tracking it down.

From: guest , 4 months, post #2
Was it written in a first person POV?

From: guest , 4 months, post #3
Yes. I remember that much for sure.

From: guest , 4 months, post #4
Was this the start of it?

'So, what do they do?'
I was sceptical. I don't normally do pills, but my dealer, we call him PF (long story why, involves a tractor and an ostrich), he was trying the hard sell.
'The guy who gave them to me makes all his own meds yeah, he's like the modern day McKenna or some shit, he said he the trial one he took give him a real out of body experience. Like, he literally left his body behind and went flying about the room and crap.'
'For serious?'
'Serious mate.'
The thought buzzing around my head finally landed.
'Hey, wait a minute, if they're so good then why are you selling them so cheap?'
PF shuffled awkwardly.
'Well, to be entirely honest, I tried to sell them before, but they, um,’ he rubbed his neck and avoided my eyes, ‘they don't seem to work for most people.'
I folded my arms.
'Ah, so I see how it is, you got defective merch and want to just flog it to any old schmuck who’ll buy anything, namely, me.'
'Nah man, nah, that ain't it, look,’ He pulled out the box with the pills inside. ‘Look, we’ve been mates for years, so I’ll tell you what, I’ll say it’s twenty for the whole case.'
He held out a hand to stop me from speaking out, then unscrewed the top of one bottle and handed me a pill.
‘You take this one home now, but if it works, you buy the whole thing, deal?'
He held out his other hand, waiting for the shake...ah, what the hell, if it works it works, and I get a cheap box of highs, if not, fuck it, I lose nothing. I shake his hand and he places the pill in mine.


From: guest , 4 months, post #5
It was long time since I read it, but yes! I'm pretty sure that's the story!

From: guest , 4 months, post #6
Thank you for remembering it! It's one of mine (name is Timofee) from a long time ago, which I think was posted on writing.com before I nuked that account. I don't have the edited version, it was more of a preview than a full story that I got around to writing, but I still have the draft. I'll post the rest of it below so you can have it.

Later

I'm sitting on the stairwell of the flats where I live when I hear a loud, exaggerated cough behind me.

'Do you really have to smoke here?'

Local busybody, Laura Yates everybody. Couple of years older than me, and yeah, I'll be the first to admit it, pretty damned hot in a coquettish librarian kind way (she’s actually a teacher in the local gramma school from what I heard, real posh place, people all high on the smell of their own farts), but man, does she ever get on everybody’s case. Especially mine.

'Sorry, miss Yates,' I say in a sing song voice dripping with sarcasm, then move aside to let her down the stairs.
She turns her nose up and walks by. I watch until she’s out of sight. Man, what I wouldn't give...I stub out my cigar and make my way inside my flat. Yeah, I don't like to smoke inside my flat, even though it would be much more quiet and I'd have fewer interruptions and...okay, there's a few positives but I don't like the damage it does to the walls you know, which sounds silly when you consider what it does to my lungs but anyway...nah, in my flat it's strictly non odious substances, like shrooms or tabs or...I dig dip into my pocket, remembering the pill. I roll it between my fingers as I examine it. Its nondescript in every sense of the word, could be mistaken for a tic-tac and, in fact, I sniff it. Huh, I’ll be damned, mint.
I walk over to the couch and flop down into it. I look at the pill...what the hell. Down it goes.

Five minutes pass and I don't feel a thing. In fact, I seriously don't feel anything, my entire bodies gone numb but my minds working fine, this is such bull shit! I try to lift my arm but nothing happens. My leg, nothing, my other arm, nothing, I try to tilt my head, nada.

But then I feel a horrible thump and suddenly I feel like I'm falling and that’s when I realise I am falling.

I can move my arms again and I claw and grasp but I'm falling through the couch and then everything’s gone dark but then it’s so bright it hurts my eyes and when they adjust I see the front hall of the flats and Laura's stood there checking her mail and I'm about to hit her so I close my eyes!

Nothing...no impact. I feel something in my hands and I slowly open my eyes. I see letters. As my eyes focus and the words start making sense, I see Laura's name on the letters. Then I see the red nail polish on the thin fingers. I look down and I see a blue coat I wasn't wearing, and a brown scarf I don't own, on top of...breasts I definitely don't own and my hand travels down to my crotch to my...my...wheres my penis?!

I let out a strangled yelp and I rush up the stairs, wincing only slightly as my new breasts bounce hard against my chest. I stop in front of my door and feel around the edge of the doorframe for the hidden crack where I keep the spare key. I find it and I pour through the door way and I see myself, lying on the couch.

I panic. I basically leap over to myself, my body, and I check its, my, pulse...it's faint, but it's still there. What the hell has PF given me?! I go over to the phone to get ahold of the bastard when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Not going to lie, I jumped in shock at seeing Laura inside my flat. But it wasn't Laura, was it? I raised my hand, so did the reflection. I stood on one leg, so did the reflection. I unzipped my coat and lifted up my shirt, exposing my tits, so did the reflection.

'No fucking way,' I said in Laura's voice. My lips curled into a sly grin at the sound of the curse.

'Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cunt, cunt, flange,' said the reflection. Said Laura. Said me, in Laura's body. I was Laura. I twisted her brown locks, I examined her small, straight teeth and brown eyes, so different from my own bloodshot baby blues. This is too strange, I need a drink. I drop my coat and scarf onto the floor and go over to my kitchen area, pour myself a large mug of whiskey, and sit in the chair opposite the crouch. It burns my new throat and I cough and splutter and let loose some more curse words. Such a pleasure to hear the prim and proper Laura Yates, cursing like a sailor...whilst drinking whiskey and...I wonder...I reach over to the packet of cigars on the table. I take one out and sniff the length of it. I light it. I thought the whiskey hurt my throat but this is something else entirely! A wave of nausea rolls over me as I hack and wheeze but I keep at it. I know, I know...its petty and spiteful, but the amount of times she's ragged on me for the habit and now look at her...smoking in my flat, which is something I won't even do, I think to myself, smirking.

I should probably get pictures of this...use it to blackmail her, or at least shut her up when she's on my case, and...I smile a lecherous smile...some other pictures of other activities wouldn't go amiss...for my private collection. Just as I'm finishing that thought, I feel an immense pressure around my midriff...and then I'm suddenly back in my own body. Laura seems to be trapped inbetween sleep and wakefulness and drops the half finished cigar. I leap forward and scoop it up, placing it in the mug of whiskey. Shame to waste it, but I've a feeling that I had to act fast and as Laura's eyes slowly open, it looks like I was right.

'What's going on,' she croaks, 'where am I? Why are you here?'

'I, erm,' think fast, think fast! 'You were sick, outside my flat. You fell down and I helped you in, got your coat and that off, you were running a fever.'

She rubbed her throat and her temples, 'I can still feel it, my mouth tastes all funny and blocked up... I passed out?'

'Yeah.'

'Thank you,' she says, struggling to her feet 'i think I need to get to my own flat, and get some bed rest.'

'Thats probably for the best...you should probably call off work sick tomorrow as well.'

'Yes, that is probably the best course of action,' she picks up her coat, 'thank you, again.'

'My pleasure, anytime,' I smile as innocently as I can. She smiles wanly back and leaves the apartment. As soon as shes gone, I'm on the phone to PF and half an hour later, I'm twenty pounds down but 400-500 pills up.


I reach into the bottle for a pill and I find a scrap of paper. There’s no words on it, just a series of scrawled numbers and letters. 1P – 20M. 2P – 2H. 3P – 20H. 4P – 200H. Have to be an idiot not to figure that out, one pill for twenty minutes, two for two hours, three for twenty…and four for just over a week, well, eight days…I figure I’ll play it safe for the time being and I just take out the one pill. Swallow. That same leaden feeling and the thump and I’m falling, I’d forgotten about the falling! I’d wind up in whoever’s body was directly below me, or worse, what if there was nobody below me. I only got lucky last time that Laura happened to be reading her letters at that particular moment, what if there’s nobody there, what if I just fall through the ground, and just keep falling. At least if I did, I’ve only had the one pill, so it’ll only be twenty minutes….unless the pill from before counts, then its two hours…how long do these things stay in a person’s system?

It was at this point that I realized I was now slipping through the couch, leaving my body behind.
‘No!’ I cried out, and I stopped. My head was poking out of my bodies crotch. I turned up and looked at my body, passed out on the couch. How had I stopped? Was it willpower? The first time I’d just accepted I was falling as fact, this time though I’d thought of myself as a ghost, and ghosts can fly and walk through walls and – I pulled myself back through the couch and stood facing my body. I looked down and couldn’t see my feet. I was shin deep in the table. Then, slowly, they appeared, as I rose into the air. Oh, this was brilliant! I did a midair cartwheel, a loop-the-loop, I let loose a loud whooping noise in spite of myself and then I realized just how loud I had been. I put my hands over my mouth. I listened. No one had thumped on the walls, telling me to quiet down. I walked over to the wall of the flat next door and I put my head through it. Mr Thompson was sat there, watching TV, and taking no notice of my incorporeal head which was now pulling faces at him from above the TV set. I waved at him. Still, no response.

‘Oy, you syphilitic reprobate, pay attention to me when I’m being a tit!’ I yelled at him. Nothing. I grinned widely.
There was no feeling of pressure this time. I just found myself sat back on the couch. I glanced at my watch, twenty minutes on the dot. I guess to get the longer time, you have to take more than one pill at a time. I take out two and this time I don’t waste any time messing about in my ethereal form. I make a beeline straight for Laura’s flat which is a couple of floors above mine.

I’ve never been in it before. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve even been up to this floor before, but the layout of the flat is depressingly similar. Though the content is vastly different. You almost wouldn’t know anybody lived here, it looks like a showroom, everything’s so neat and tidy, and there’s even a bowl of fresh fruit on the kitchen table. I go through the door which I know leads into the main bedroom and I see her there. She’s in bed, wrapped up in a quilt and watching some black and white movie.

‘Looks interesting,’ I said snidely, looking at the screen. ‘Well, here goes!’

I glide over and lower myself through the quilt and into her body. I suddenly feel the warmth of the quilt, the softness of it against my skin…against Laura’s skin. I grin a most un-Laura like grin and throw the quilt aside. What should I get up to first?


From: guest , 4 months, post #7
Thank you! Appreciate you for posting it here, and for writing it in the first place.

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