I'd only been able to do this for a few weeks, take over the bodies of others. Hell I'd gotten myself in so much trouble, but I knew nobody would be able to catch me--what chance did they have?
But let me tell you about how I got here in the first place.
I was a marine, back from active duty--but *broken and not serviceable* as one of my officers described me. That hurt and I felt useless. What caused it?
A month ago, a message came through. They told me that my parents had died. I remember my gut twisting, a desperate feeling of guilt while I repeatedly questioned myself--could I have saved them?
The days that followed left me numb, useless. I started to make mistakes, finding myself distracted, feeling so empty. After a few days, along with a visit from the shrink I was discharged and sent home to 'tie up the loose ends'.
Being their sole beneficiary, I found myself with a lot of money. I knew, no matter how much there was it would never bring them back.
I moved to New York. I could easily afford a large apartment, but I chose something more realistic.
Although the pain of my loss lessened as the weeks passed, I still felt incomplete without my family; to the extent I even found it hard to talk and meet people--I'd become a recluse without even realising it.
From my window I used to watch the people on the street below. The couples and families, I wondered what it would be like--to feel whole again.
On one of my rare trips out I was approached by a man. He told me there was a way to recapture that love and connection again.
What he promised seemed like a fairytale--a way to become any person. I didn't believe him of course, then he gave me a practical demonstration. My eyes popped as I watched him slip inside a teenager at a bus stop. I was sold! But then he told me the cost; all that I had, money and the apartment. It didn't bother me that I'd effectively be homeless with no money. Why did I need them if I could be someone else?

So why were these cops chasing me? It was simply bad timing. I'd just pulled myself free of a Justin, an up and coming executive and my favourite. He was unconscious in my arms, the cops were just passing and spotted me. They glanced at the expensive suit and must have thought I'd mugged him. I had, sort of, although it wasn't for the money, but his identity.

It must have looked bad, I was 6' and 211 lbs of muscle. Yeah, even though I could be anyone I wanted to be, I still liked to look after myself and work out.
They shouted and I dropped him like a hot potato. I sprinted down the back street, a tight narrow alley flanked by tall buildings. I'd played college football when I was younger, so even though I was big, I was still fast.
A hundred or so yards later my muscles were starting to burn. Just behind me I could hear the voices of the cops, they were suffering just as bad.
Turning a corner, I spotted him. Young, no more than seventeen, but I didn't care, more importantly he was alone--no witnesses.
I thundered towards him, a look a fear shadowed his face as I reached out with a big hand and grasped his face. He really had no idea what was going on as I spun him around...
I'd had a lot of time, and practice jumping bodies. I almost felt guilty at the number of times I'd practiced on Justin--the young exec. It was like a game of cat and mouse. I'd jumped him on the day one, my first 'get in'. Although I was bigger and heavier he still put up a fight--that's why I liked him.

Justin lived alone, but had a lot of friends, that worked perfectly for me. We struggled in the basement of his apartment block, I was still figuring out how to use my new ability and ended up choking him into unconsciousness.
Going through his pockets I found some door keys, I hoisted him over my shoulders and took the lift to the seventh floor. Inside it was evident that he lived alone, but his taste for luxury clothes extended to the interior design of the rooms.
Now in private I was able to practice on Justin, he was unconscious--like a rag doll. I pulled off his clothes and took a moment to admire his physique before stripping myself and brutally forcing myself inside. It was hard work, his body bucked and writhed as I used all my strength to gain control.
It took fifteen minutes or so, but once inside I was in total control. I looked at myself; my new self in the mirror, both amazed and curious about my stolen body. I took a shower--it had been a long and sweaty struggle. How did this work? I'd somehow squeezed my 6' body into Justin's 5'11" frame. I checked my weight; 165 lbs, damn I'd lost over 45 lbs.
Pulling on a T-shirt and some cotton shorts I sat in front of his computer. The guy had told me that I would know everything about the person I'd jumped--I wasn't feeling anything.
Maybe I needed to relax? I sat back in the chair and let my mind go blank, in the monitor I could see Justin's reflection. It still seemed alien, like looking through a window rather than a reflection. Looking into his eyes; warm, brown eyes, I whispered to myself, "This is me now." That may have been a keyword, as the floodgates opened and suddenly I was drowning in Justin's memories. I gasped for air and blinked at my reflection, it felt like the most natural thing in the world; *my* own reflection--Justin Carr.
I logged into his email, social media and bank accounts. I smiled, I already knew he was wealthy, but now I had access to it as well.

I rolled over and groaned rubbing my head. I squinted into the room, an unfamiliar, yet familiar sight. Sitting up, I reached over I grabbed a glass of water gulping it down. Fragments of the previous night swept into focus, I grinned. They didn't notice any changes in Justin, I put the glass down and found a note on the table. *Thanks for a great evening, love Sam.* I looked over my shoulder, the bed sheets were all messed up. "Looks like I fooled Sam as well," I chuckled to myself.
My hangover was in full swing as I finished the water, and it seemed like a good idea to attempt vacating Justin's body. I laid on the bed face down and started to think about myself. I thought about my size, my weight, myself. A tightness swept through Justin's body, I arched my back and started to peel myself away from my temporary identity. I struggled again, pushing and pulling myself free like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis. Justin's hair was in front of my nose, I pushed down and expanded to my full height and weight. Breathless, I rolled onto the bed next to him and stared at my first conquest.
Pulling on a pair of his shorts and a vest, then ambled into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I remember having a lot to drink last night so wasn't expecting the released Justin to rise any time soon.
After a satisfying meal I returned to where Justin slept. I rolled him onto his back and decide this was as good a time as any to practice jumping in and out of his body. With him unconscious, it made it easier to try different techniques.

Pulling off the vest, I warmed up stretching and flexing. I started with laying on top of him and wriggling inside; relatively easy, but I couldn't see what I was doing. I pulled myself out again and realised I was still wearing the shorts I'd put on earlier. At least I didn't have to get butt naked every time I wanted to jump someone.
Was it the same for people I was going to get inside? I got a shirt, underwear and shorts on Justin; damn this would be sweet if this worked.
Laying on the bed, I pulled Justin on top of me. I smelt the now familiar product in his hair; thought about his body and I slipped inside, straight through his clothes. My eyes blinked open and I stared at the ceiling using Justin's memories to recall the night with Sam. "Fucking awesome," I muttered in Justin's voice before shrugging myself free of his body. Each time being easier than the last.
I must have jumped in and out of his body around ten times throughout Saturday. I discovered it was easier to enter through the back and leave by shrugging myself out through the front. He'd been unconscious all the time, so I'd pinned him against the wall a few times and jumped him that way. In the afternoon I'd used him to do some grocery shopping; it's what he'd normally be doing. When I returned I'd left him on the bed and waited.
Some forty minutes later I heard him stirring. He stumbled in holding his head and stopped when he saw me. "Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my home?" I was wearing one of his shirts--tight across my torso and a pair of shorts, it only took him a few moments to recognise them. "And why are you wearing my stuff?"
I got to my feet, I could have offered a lame excuse, but it was time to put into practice what I'd learnt.
Calmly I walked over to him and he backed away. He grabbed the phone, "I'm going to call the police!"
"Call them if you want, by the time they arrive I'll be gone and you'd have wasted their time," I told him.
-- END OF PART ONE

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