It was a long month. Back-to-back to back extended shifts without a break in between. All because headquarters couldn't find a repcement for our evening shift and my supervisor's inability to work their full 12.

  I would have contacted a bor wyer, but I just didn't have the energy to do so after I got off work. But finally, finally they found somebody to fill the shift, and I was able to leave work at my normal time.

  I got home and dropped my bag by the door and stumbled on my way to the bed. Not even bothering to put up the effort to crawl into bed or to take off my uniform, I fell into it instead.

  As soon as my face hit the pillow I fell into bckness.

  Yet my consciousness didn't drift fully into the sea of sleep. I instead was bungee jumping as I rebounded back onto the beach of wakefulness.

  With my return I felt something was left behind. What it was exactly I could not say as I had more pressing matters of concern.

  Namely the feeling of falling and my ck of ability to open my eyes. I felt the sensation of wind and some heat rapidly washing over my... my skin? I couldn't tell but the heat was everywhere but growing hotter where the wind was making the most impact. I was stretched out in a way I could only describe as tear shaped as I plummeted towards... towards the ground?

  If only.

  I felt the brief contact with a smooth and cool surface, the distinct touch of gss before shattering right on through. The shards left cuts and gashes in me, yet the pain was muted.

  I did not have much time to deliberate on the non-injury before I felt myself collide with something soft and squishy... then came the urge and the knowing.

  I was immediately tched to what I now know as a person. Specifically, a female person's face. The impact, which had broken a window, somehow did not break her petit nose. Nor did it bruise her full, yet sore covered, lips.

  I felt her try to scream or yell, but my graceful flight had nded me in the perfect position to entirely cover her mouth and nose.

  That's when the urge hit me like a bag of bricks.

  It told me that Tab A went into slot A and that if I didn’t, I would likely die. Having no idea where the fuck I was, nor how I got here, I gave into that urge, the thought of just dying nowhere near the top of my list of things to do. I then felt her hands try to pull me from her and I knew I didn't have much time to work with.

  Giving in to the urge honestly felt like getting a "random boner"; those boners you never quite knew why it happened, but it just did and now you had a stiff to hide if you were in public. Or if you were a degenerate, to just spank it.

  With the barest of thoughts to what I was doing I felt myself force pass her lips and into her panicking mouth.

  The warm wetness caused that portion to harden on her writhing tongue sending bolts of pleasure through me. With her tongue wriggling around the head of my new shaft, it gave me an interesting opportunity. The nerves that ran all along her pink, wet and spongy muscle spiked in sensitivity as she prolonged her contact with my thick tendril. I felt the moment when her tongue smmed into the tip in an effort to drive out the invader sent as many pleasurable signals as her own clit, straight to her brain.

  Her rough and callused hands that had managed to pry me from her nose briefly froze as she let out a breathy moan into me, sending vibrations up my enrged tendril.

  I took that inaction to reaffix myself, blocking off her airways and finally starting what the urge set me out to do. I pulsed in her warm mouth and pushed in more of my girth stretching her lips wider around me. Plunging my cock deep into her throat gagging her before pulling it back to be bathed in the desperate tonguing only to repeat the action.

  Her throat constricted and attempted to swallow me, but it only heightened the pleasure. I fucked her mouth hard and her throat harder. Every thrust brought me and her pleasure as I made sure to repeat what I did to her tongue to every inch of her mouth and throat. The ridges on my cock rubbed along her tonsils with every pass. Her uvu was pummeled and dragged like a speed bag with every thrust.

  More of myself sprouted as tendrils stroking her gums and made sure she would never be able to properly brush her teeth or visit a dentist without cumming her brains out. But consequently, the more I spread in her mouth, the more changes I made, the more of her I felt, I began to feel what she was feeling. The intense almost blinding pleasure that caused me to leak as badly as her. The ck of air making every move more and more frantic. The fear of death just on the edge of that great chasm.

  I felt her growing weaker with every passing thrust before with a well-timed and deeper thrust we both came undone.

  More of me spilled out from the tip of my cock into her stomach as she colpsed, drenching herself with her orgasm. So much came out of her that it ran down her legs in rivulets pooling on the floor.

  With us both spent I sunk into her, finally clearing her airways and leaving her panting on the ground, her daisy duke's soaked with her vaginal fluid, consciousness quickly leaving the both of us.

  I woke up mere moments before she did, and I was given backstage access to her thoughts when she groggily woke up.

  -Uuuughh, my head. Did I do whip-its again? Why does it feel like I've been sucking dick? Why are my shorts so wet? What the fuck happened?!-

  Her thoughts spiraled, trying to piece together the events leading up to my... insertion into her life. The event was muddied by the drugs still running through her system and the loss of consciousness due to asphyxiation, the tter I knew all too well.

  When I was younger, I had thought the unattended Helium tank at my local grocer was such a fun thing to mess with. My prepubescent voice got higher and higher as I inhaled the gas only to wake up on the linoleum floor with a throbbing forehead.

  With my host, I could very well see that instant lights-out combo with her drug use and making it incredibly difficult to understand how she got into her current position.

  I came to realize that I could now actually smell, and see, and hear, and taste. All from the perspective of the still unnamed woman. I witnessed the surroundings and could only internally sneer at the filth strewn about, the trash and strange fluids coating the walls and corners leaving a gap in the concrete flooring through the corridor we were in. She looked down at herself and I saw the sheer valley my host had, absolutely massive badongas held in pce by a ratty and oil-stained tank top. A lock of greasy blonde hair fell in front of her face only for one of her hands to come up and put it behind her ear. Passing her ridiculous rack, I saw her midriff exposed and the soaked booty short jeans that were barely hanging on.

  To her she went from using the disgusting restroom to waking up on the floor outside having "wet" herself. The fact that it wasn't piss did not matter as the smell from said filthy room wreaked up shit and piss did not help matters. She grumbled to herself verbally while in her head she compined -Not again! - which made me cringe at the fact that this woman had apparently wet herself before.

  Still unnamed, I watched her ignore the broken skylight as she went on to another room in the building where she found a suitcase with the contents haphazardly stuffed in. She rummaged through it, finding a pair of marginally clean panties, which she made sure were "usable" by way of sniff test, and grabbed a pair of cargo pants.

  Quickly shirking off her damp clothes she revealed to me a sex that would have made a gynecologist faint and if I had a stomach, vomit. Yet while I could not vomit, it did seem like my visceral reaction to the horrendous situation between her legs was actually transmitted to her. I started to feel slightly bad about it as I heard her self-loathing. -God, how did it get so bad? I thought it was finally clearing up after the visit to Panacea?-

  I then quickly lost my sympathy for her as in her mind's eye I saw her having a train run on her by a group of unwashed drug addicts all for the sake of appeasing her "hubby" Skidmark, or Adam. I really did not want to see that image, but I was unable to "tune off" the connection. Though, in my panic trying to find a knob to change channels or at the very least turn down the volume, I discovered that I could move. Granted it wasn't anything of note, I had the distinct feeling that if I tried to move away from my host-Sherrel or Squealer, now that I had the information- I would experience great pain and with how little I was likely to die too. The names of my host and her boss/boyfriend rang a far off bell in my head, the fact that both had powers was eye opening.

  The thing I could move while not removing myself from my host was messing with her mouth and throat. It seemed that when I was... Interfacing with her, I formed a connection with everything I maniputed. So, using my newfound control over some of her body, I started to constrict her airway and almost immediately her thoughts of her "wonderful boyfriend" ceased, repced with confusion and focused on trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

  Perhaps I could Pavlov her onto the right path?