Swap Meet (Patreon)

Sam woke up not knowing who he was, he was that blurry. Thankfully, base camp drills centered him very quickly, his psyche treating his bleariness as a combat situation. He was an agent of SHIELD; he might be under attack, people might be relying on him. He groped for his sidearm in its usual place on his black and blue uniform, but it wasn’t there. All he felt was warm, bare skin. It felt richly detailed to the touch, like he was tripping on acid or something, and the sensation was so unexpected that he thought he had accidentally groped someone before realizing he had touched his own bare thigh. Had someone stripped him? He’d heard about that being used as a psychological torture—an easy start to an interrogation. 

Still, out of reflex, he reached to adjust his glasses. He felt they weren’t there. Neither was his beard, of all things. His face felt different. Everything about him was out of sorts, dissociated, not a numbness, just a sharp sense of otherness. In fact, as his head cleared, everything assumed a crisp, detailed clarity. He could smell pungent odors that were not overwhelming or even strong, simply more present than he was used to, like he was stuffing his nose into every part of the room at once and sniffing. His eyesight was even better than it was with his glasses—it was disconcerting, like he’d just gotten a new prescription. Even his hearing was more acute. 

“Laura?” The woman who’d said it was at the far side of the room—the room being well-sized, perhaps a warehouse, and definitely being used as one judging by the crates he could see piled around. He heard it like she was speaking into his ear. It wasn’t like she was shouting, just like he was able to—cast himself right next to her, hear what she was saying, while still lying where he was.

He stood up, things coming into focus. There’d been a break-in. Items stolen from SHIELD Vault 73. He was assigned to retrieve them, a red op, superhuman assistance recruited as necessary. X-23 and Spider-Woman… Gwen. She’d asked to be called Gwen. This wasn’t her universe, so she saw no need for a secret identity.

They’d traced the goods, busted in, one of the devices had been activated in the fracas, and then…

“Laura, you okay?” Gwen said again, coming closer, though it made little difference to his crystal-clear hearing. 

He turned to respond to her. “Why do you keep calling me Laura?”

It wasn’t his voice.

It was X-23’s. 

Sam looked down at his body as he felt his face, now registering the smooth, clear skin he felt, the soft flesh in contrast to his own sharp, angular features, even the pale white skin instead of his own brown tan. The device—one of Doctor Mindbender’s, intended to allow the theft of persons of mass destruction. It had swapped their minds.

Ironic as hell, was all Sam could think. He’d always wondered what it’d have been like to be born a woman. Growing up, he’d enjoyed cooking—chemistry with food at the end—and devoured more emotional fare than the primitive cartoons intended for him. The feelings that had welled up in response to those advanced books and heady dramas hadn’t endeared him to his parents, who saw his crying as unmanly. Women who couldn’t cook half as well as him and weren’t nearly as literate had been rewarded for poor food and shallow readings, while he was always told to man up. 

Then in college, he’d pursued submissive roles in his sexual relationship. It hadn’t really had anything to do with gender, but he’d always felt an underlying unease that he knew lingered from his childhood. A worry that enjoying being a sub reflected on his masculinity. It was hard not to think how natural it would’ve been, had he been born a woman.

And now the monkey paw had granted his wish. He—she—was X-23, in body at least. And, as Gwen came closer, he realized she smelled delicious.

Hadn’t there been something in Laura’s file about how she went into heat? Mating season?

“Tell me you don’t have a concussion,” Gwen was saying. “I thought you had one of those mutant healing factors. I mean, in a costume like that, I think I’d notice any scars…”

Laura’s clothing had been skimpier than usual. The bra top, but no leather pants, just shorts. Sam had guessed that was what happened when you wore all leather in summer. Something had to give. The leather now was warm and simmering on her skin, a heady feel that caressed her body with its softness, its smoothness. No underwear to get in the way. A particular warmth in her breasts, at her nipples. Yeah, either women had a lot more sex drive than he had reckoned or Laura was in heat.

“I don’t have a concussion,” Sam said. “It was that device. It switched my mind with X-23’s.”

“Your mind?” Gwen asked, so confused it was obvious through her mask.

“I’m Sam.”

“Oh… no. No way. Wait, really? Holy shit!” Gwen ran the gamut of emotions in very little time. Something about her nervousness was… appealing. “Uhh… how’s it going in there?”

“Strange,” Sam said.

“Think you can get a hold on your, uh, Laura’s stuff? We need to find her—you—and you’ve got the nose. You do know what you smell like, yeah?”

Sam sniffed the air. She thought she could detect his cologne. That was weird; what struck her as weird, in all this. Weird itself, that. 

Most of all, she could smell Gwen. Her sweat. Her… body. Sam needed something to take the edge off. She just couldn’t keep going without something.

“Can I get a hug?”

He could see Gwen’s eyebrows raise even through the mask. “Never expected to hear Laura ask me that. Yeah, sure… everybody needs one sometimes, right?”

“Right…” Sam hugged Gwen's head against her chest, patting the temple while savoring the press of their bodies together. She could feel a pressure on her sex, dull, leaden, but a relief from the aching burn of her lust. It wasn’t as good as his cock would’ve felt, hard and pushed into Gwen’s warmth…

"Would it be phobic to think this is a little weird?” Gwen asked, her cheek lying on the rise of Sam's left tit, her nose brushing the brown nipple that stood up, tingling. "I kinda had a thing for you back in… when you… it’s just weird. I can kinda tell it’s you, your presence or whatever...”

"The way I feel?” Sam suggested. She petted Gwen gently, trying to soothe her, ease her into more of the delicious release she could feel on the other side of this terrible need.

Gwen fought herself free and looked at Sam. Sam’s hands locked on her wrists. Her fingers skated up Gwen's arms, dancing onto the curves of her pert breasts. She closed the palms in a cupping hold of Gwen's tits.

“Sam, what’re you doing?” Gwen husked.

The sensation between Sam’s legs was growing, heating. Her sex was becoming more sensitive, more vibrant, but chafing more against the constricting leather, the touch that hadn’t been laid on it. She needed relief. She needed Gwen.

“I…” Her lips moved forward, ending the uncompleted sentence with a kiss that seemed to burn Gwen's mouth like hot oil.

"Nnnnn," Gwen whimpered as Sam possessed her frantically. She wriggled and fought but it was no good. Her mind told her this was crazy but her body was responding to Sam's eager, amateurish caresses.

Sam's head drew back. "I need you," she breathed passionately.

"Oh," Gwen whimpered, "no, Sam, no, wait!" But her traitorous hands were slipping the top off Sam's rounded shoulders and her lips were making straight for Sam's brown candy nipples.

Sam squealed as Gwen began to suckle and she reached to unhook her bottoms. They were loose and they fell with no trouble at all. Her hands flailed across Gwen, who responded in kind, and clothes flew in every direction. 

In a moment Sam and Gwen were stripped of their tangling uniforms. Gwen lay breathless on the floor, unable to believe that this was happening, that she was enjoying it even through her mystified astonishment.

They clung together, bare legs entwined, hands stroking everywhere. Sam took Gwen's fingers and made them fondle the sensual crest of her womanhood, rubbed them across the pregnant lips until they sank inside.

"Oh," Gwen whispered, "you're so soft—just like satin." Her fingers explored what they had discovered, and one of them came upon Sam's clitoris. The first shy touch made Sam jerk in delight and Gwen did it again for good luck. Sam clutched the hand that fingered her and pressed it deeper, harder to its work.

"How does it feel?" Gwen implored between sucking kisses. "As a woman? Better? Worse?"

"A little worse," Sam slurred in reply, her lips eagerly skimming along Gwen's cheek, making for the young girl's ear. She seized upon the sensitive lobe and worried it until Gwen quivered delightfully. “Getting better.”

It was the truth. The feeling was not as intense, except for those fleeting and almost painful touches to her clit, but there was a heavier, fuller sensation behind it. Like the joy of it was something Sam was soaking in, rather than something centered sharply on a phallus or erogenous zone.

Their cunts pushed together, nipples scraping, and Sam reached to cup Gwen's cleavage. They were so soft yet so firm, all at the same time, so round, so pretty, almost exactly the same size as her own. So comfortable to hold, so nice to kiss and suck. They were made to be fondled and kissed, just the right size for a tiny female hand.

"Gwen," Sam husked, "I'm going to lick you and kiss you and suck you. I'm going to make you scream and cry and beg for more, and when you do, I'm going to give it to you—all you can take!"

She grabbed a handful of Gwen's cunt. Gwen's mound was alive with excitement and very damp. Sam brought her nose close and sniffed, filling her head with her Gwen’s aroma. Sweet, sweet pussy.

She slid her nose along the wet slit, burrowing it into Gwen's hole, letting her tongue trail in support. Gwen kicked her feet but she kicked them wide, opening her cunt to Sam's lovemaking.

Sam's fingers slid into the slit, rubbing the slick folds of Gwen's cunt. She felt a complementary wellness issuing from the tiny, tight hole, and her fingers gravitated toward it. She worked one inside the opening, spreading it gently, Gwen whining and keening in satisfaction as Sam played. The fingers slid in knuckle deep and moved in soft, reaming action, feeling the little cunt suck ravenously at its intruding presence.

"Yes," Gwen groaned. "Oh, yes!! Sam, God, I love you! You know just how to do it!"

Carefully Sam's tongue roved through the split-open delicacy of Gwen's cunt. She paid careful attention to every interesting corner of Gwen's pussy before settling at last upon the clitoris, so tiny, so very, very tiny, peeking from beneath its hood like a timid doe. Her tongue flitted across Gwen's trigger, sparking it mercilessly, and Gwen jolted each time she was licked. 

Her teeth nibbled daintily at the soft little cuntlips, scraping their folds, not hard enough to hurt but just firmly enough to make Gwen tingle excitedly. She could feel the spastic dancing of Gwen's loins, could feel the eager tremors of thigh muscles as each fresh swipe of her tongue taught the blonde a new lesson in the art of cunt-lapping.

Gwen's hands squeezed at Sam's rosebud cunt, teasing the juice-dripping slit. Sam slid closer, giving her better access, and she raised one knee so that her cunt was wide open and ready. Gwen reacted gratefully, thrusting her fingers inside. They galloped amateurishly inside Sam, tickling here, there and everywhere. Come on, Gwen, Sam thought. Find something and stick with it. Who taught you how to do this? Some giddy teenybopper lesbian, of course—a girl who didn't know much and had less to teach. No matter. Gwen was too smart to stay bad at this.

She closed her lips upon the tiny clitoris and sucked it firmly. Gwen erupted in shuddering spasms. Obviously she had a hair-trigger. Sam ignored the initial quivers and began to stab her tongue into Gwen’s cunt. She could feel the muscles milking her driving tongue, seeking to pull it all the way inside, but she ignored those as well. Sam continued to jab with her tongue until Gwen had come two more times in rapid-fire succession.

The blonde was sobbing as if her heart was broken, and her fingers had abandoned their assault on Sam's cunt. Sam looked up and saw that Gwen was gasping out her soul, her hands clutching her tits and squeezing the nipples for all she was worth. Enough, she told herself. No need to carry this to extremes. Besides, giving pleasure had brought X-23’s body as much satisfaction as it seemed it could.

She sat up and her hand came to rest on Gwen's churning tummy. "Do you feel better now?" she husked, and the blonde nodded deliriously. "Do you want to try me now?"

Gwen needed no second invitation. She sat up as Sam lay down and, her eyes still glazed, she threw her face into her cunt. Her tongue lanced into Sam with force, if not finesse, and she began to suck and kiss everything inside Sam's pussy. She was nervous—her previous lesbian experiences had been furtive, girlish fumbles, good enough to get her hooked on the feeling, but now she understood how inadequate that training had been.

Her tongue slid languidly across Sam's lips, moving with a purpose. She worked it in and around the little folds of flesh, smirking to herself as she heard Sam's sighs of appreciation. Yes, she thought, I’m getting better at this. Her fingertips eased in as her tongue strolled onto Sam's clit and she began to apply double-team stimulation. The wetness that drenched, that seeped beneath her short fingernails was proof positive that she was doing the right thing.

"A little more tongue," Sam cooed to her, "just a little more. Right—there! Oh, God, yes! Right there! Oooohhh, I love you, baby, I really love you!" Gwen was unsteady but learning fast and Sam was enjoying the hell out of this particular lesson. She lifted her ass, slipping an arm beneath it so Gwen could get at her cunt easier.

"Enjoying my body?"

She closed her eyes. The worst that could happen had. She didn't have to look to know it was X-23, she didn't have to see the expression that must be on his face right now. He had probably made the same one often enough…

Gwen froze, her tongue halfway in Sam's cunt. Slowly, very slowly, she turned around to stare back at the rightful owner of the pussy she was eating, her cute teenage face scarlet with embarrassment.

“Hot,” X-23 said simply. His erection was visible through his pants, even more visible when he unzipped his fly. “Touch my cock. Hold it in your hands.”

“Laura, what the hell are you doing?” Sam demanded.

X-23 reached out with his boot and flipped Gwen onto her back. “Think you’re the only one who’s curious how the other half lives? Do it, Gwen. I didn’t go without for four days just so you could have all the fun once you’re in the driver’s seat.”

Shivering, Gwen did as she was instructed. She took X-23's cock in a hesitant grip, holding it between the tips of thumb and middle finger, staring at it curiously. Soon it began to tremble.

“Have you ever sucked it?” X-23 asked.

Gwen watched, big-eyed, nodding. "A little bit," she confessed. X-23 laid down on his back and motioned for the girl to try it one more time. Steeling herself to the task Gwen leaned across X-23's legs, taking hold of his prick. She looked at it for a moment and her tongue slipped out to roll across the big red knob. A sheepish smile toward Sam and Gwen was giving head, his cockhead firmly inside her warm young mouth. She held him there, without much enthusiasm at first, but X-23 could feel her saliva beginning to flow with each second his cock pressed against her tongue.

"Hey," Sam commanded from her vantage point. "Why don’t you lie down beside him and get acquainted?"

Gwen's reluctance was depleting along with X-23's patience, but she went where she was told and X-23 didn't hold back as she began to kiss him softly on the face. His hand slipped down to cup her small breast, fingers tugging casually at her fat nipple and she hummed into his mouth as she was used.

Even Sam could tell that Gwen was warming up by now, and X-23 had to admit that it wasn't so bad as it might have been. She was a desperate sort of kisser, she smacked and tongued at his face as conscientiously as if she were being graded on her performance, and he could feel her cupped teat hardening in his hand. The little tip was already burning against his palm and, when she scooted closer, he could feel moisture dampening her cunt.

He slid his other hand down her thigh, rubbing the warm, slick flesh, and he drew her leg across his middle, so that the back of her knee softly grazed the spear of his manhood. She seemed to shudder at the touch but she didn't pull away and, within another moment or two, she was pulling her body atop his.

"Good, good," Sam enthused. Gwen seemed to be growing more eager as each moment skidded by, and X-23 was proving himself no slouch either. His hands were on her back now, cupping the slim, rounded cheeks of Gwen's ass, fingertips poking into the crack with great delicacy.

X-23 moved his body and Gwen slid off. He touched her and she went onto her back, knees up and apart. Quickly he bent down to kiss her mouth once again, and then his lips moved down across her chest. One nipple after another felt his suckling caress, and his tongue laved the areolas skillfully. Sam touched her own tits as she saw X-23 working up her own recent conquest. It seemed that she could feel his tonguing touch upon her own body right now. And Gwen was smiling, stroking X-23's back as he glided over her tummy. 

"How does it feel?" Sam asked.

"Oh, Sam! I don't know!"

Just then X-23's lips made contact with Gwen's cunt itself, his tongue scooting between the moist, tight lips, and the blonde jumped in glee.

"Oh, God, YES!!" she screeched, her head and shoulders jerking up from the ground, eyes clamped shut. She bent almost double at the waist, throwing herself upon X-23 as he burrowed inside her cunt, and then she lay back down, her fists thumping on the floor.

X-23 rose and lay beside Gwen once again. He kissed her more times than Sam could count as the blonde's fingers teased his stiff cock. Gwen’s finges made a ring around it and her eyes opened in alarm. "No," she moaned, "I think it's too big. It'll never fit inside me."

"Of course it will," Sam insisted. Silently she threw signals at X-23. He stretched out on his back and Sam guided Gwen up till the blonde knelt astride X-23. Sam lifted his cock, holding it straight up, the tip rubbing Gwen's pubic hair. "Okay," she went on. "I'll hold it steady for you and you just lower yourself onto it. Go as slow or as fast as you want. You can control how much of it goes inside and the speed, too. Ready?"

Trembling in spite of Sam’s confident tone, Gwen nodded. Sam reached in and worked the very tip of X-23's cock into the blonde's tight cunt.

She moaned at the intrusion but she didn't pull away.

Sam fiddled some more and X-23 pressed a bit deeper. She could feel and smell the juices that dampened Gwen's cunt and she knew that lubrication would be no problem. The only obstacle was her fear, and they were on their way toward overcoming that.

Gwen's hips shuddered and her knees felt weak. Involuntarily she sank down, a bit too much, and perhaps an inch of X-23's cock slid inside. "OH!" she wailed. "It hurts too much! I'm afraid!" But Sam was there, quick to comfort her with a kiss. And as the time flew past, Gwen had to confess in a low, sexy voice that it didn't really hurt at all.

Chewing frantically on her lower lip, Gwen began to slide down on X-23's cock. It slipped into her wet cunt, stretching her but not unbearably. The more of his cock she took in the more comfortable it felt to have him there. Her cunt was tight, but the further X-23 probed within her young cunt, the easier it became for him to stay there. Her whole belly felt full of cock already but it was a comfortable thing, when she looked at it candidly.

She looked at Sam, smiling a brave smile, and then, setting her teeth firmly against the pain she feared, Gwen let herself glide downward on X-23's big cock. All—the—way. Her ass pressed firmly upon his pubic hair and he was buried inside her cunt. She threw back her shoulders and her head flopped back too, a wordless cry issuing from her mouth. And then there was no agony, no discomfort, nothing but—oh god!—he was beginning to move now, working his cock up and down, pushing it into her, puffing it back, thrusting once again.

"Careful," Sam warned. "Not too rough!" But there was no need to lecture X-23 now. He'd known instinctively that Gwen wasn't ready for the no-holds-barred fucking Laura usually reveled in, cock or no cock. He continued to move within her, steadily, deliberately, breaking her in with painstaking thoroughness.

It was Gwen who began to hump madly. A wild look spread across her young face and she started working her ass up and down like a maniac. She twisted her ass from side to side, back and forth, making X-23's prick roll and jerk inside her, and she took everything he had to offer. It must have rammed far into her depths but she gave no sign of discomfort. One of her hands steadied herself, propped on X-23's ribs, the other assaulting her own stiff-nippled tits.

X-23's face was contorted with lust now, and it was plain as day that he wasn't far from coming. Wait, coming? "Oh, Jesus!" Sam fretted. Not inside her! Who knew if Gwen was using contraceptives… he certainly wasn’t! "X-23," she hissed, "pull it out before you shoot!"

Somehow X-23 got the message. He scooted his ass and, as Gwen lifted herself for a hard slam downward, he managed to jerk his cock out of her tight cunt.

The blonde wailed as she felt her pussy pull in on itself, freed of the massive intruder, and her fingers darted down to clutch at its raw red barrel. Just as she touched X-23's cockhead, his prick surrendered itself to the fury inside him and his cum slammed out.

Boiling jism spattered Gwen's belly and bush, some of it squirting high enough to dampen the undersides of her tits. She slapped at the hot cream that dribbled across her skin and, as X-23's cock continued to gush forth its cum, she felt a burning explosion deep inside her. Coming, crying, and moaning, she fell forward onto X-23's body. All was well.

Sam pried them apart finally, and she and Gwen spent a long time kissing, rubbing, and talking in soft low voices. X-23 watched them, feeling quite pleased with himself. 

It wasn’t quite as good as a strap-on, his current equipment, prone as it was to… unreliability. But he didn’t think he’d hear any complains as to his usage of it.