Going rogue

“Snow Base, the target is down,” Thomas Wilson reported into the little wire he was wearing in his bra. There was a burst of static in his earpiece, followed by a verbal message: “Agent Wilson, the Company acknowledges your accomplishment. Return to base.”

Thomas had inherited a magic possession ability from his parents, who were both body-hoppers themselves. Whereas his parents had used it purely for pleasure, Thomas had employed it to advance his career as a CIA agent who could always get the job done. He’d taken out terrorists, dictators, smugglers, and the like, always by possessing their wives or girlfriends or paramours and then striking them down at a moment of weakness. It was easy money.

However, each job had made Thomas less and less confident about being a man. He had grown to love the feminine sense of smell, the way that wind played with his hair, the tightness of bras encasing his tits, the joy of stepping out and feeling like everyone’s eyes were on him. Just from this past job as Maria Gomez, the wife of a drug baron, Thomas had even come to like thongs, silk stockings, and heels; licking his lips, he savored the taste of his lipstick as his lovely brown hair danced around the small of his back.

Could he leave all of this and go back to his old life as an ordinary guy? Thomas decided at that moment that his new female form was too enjoyable to give up so soon. “Snow Base,” he said, “This is Agent Wilson requesting an extended vacation. I’m just asking for two weeks off.” The answer immediately came back as negative: he had to report in ASAP for debriefing and then another assignment.

“Really?!” Thomas asked incredulously, “No time off? Not a single humane consideration after all I’ve done for the Company? You think I’m your slave? Fuck it then, I’m going rogue. Watch out, you fools: a woman’s revenge is nothing to trifle with. Wilson out.”

Thomas pulled up his left stocking and stepped out to enjoy the day. Then and there he chose to be a woman forever. This body was perfect.


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