Swapped for the Week

Story:

It all started as a joke. Or at least, they thought it was a joke. Your girlfriend, Lily, and her best friend, Chloe, lounged on the couch, scrolling through their phones when the conversation took a bizarre turn.

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if we turned our boyfriends into thongs for a week and actually wore them?” Chloe mused, grinning mischievously. Lily’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh my god, yes. Just imagine—no complaints, no arguing, just stuck as sexy little panties.”

You laughed nervously—until they found a spell online. They chanted the words, and suddenly, your body contorted in ways that defied logic. Bones softened, limbs dissolved, skin stretched and smoothed into sleek, stretchy fabric. Your entire being compressed into a thin, silky-gray thong—your waistband the last remnant of your arms, the delicate gusset pressed where your chest once was.

Across from you, Chloe held up a dainty pink thong—her boyfriend Matt—and giggled. “Look at him, just hanging there.”

Lily wasted no time. Rising from the couch, she hooked her thumbs into your elastic edges and began pulling you up her legs. The warmth of her skin enveloped you immediately—her thighs slick with a light sheen of sweat, the musk of an unwashed pussy already curling into your senses. She slid you higher, the fabric stretching taut as her hips swallowed you whole. Your narrow gusset pressed snugly into the plump lips of her slit, already damp and ripe from the heat of the day. Her ass swallowed the back of you, nestled against the musky crack she hadn’t bothered to wash that morning.

Lily adjusted you with a little wiggle, pressing you deep between her cheeks before pulling her denim shorts up over you. “Mmm… fits perfectly,” she teased, rocking her hips just to make you shift uncomfortably against her sticky folds.

You were inside her world now—trapped, helpless, forced to feel every minute detail of her body. The subtle, humid musk of her unwashed sex clung to you, an earthy, tangy scent that seeped into your very fibers. The day stretched on—Lily and Chloe strolling through shops, sitting for lunch, chatting as if nothing were amiss. Every step, every movement sent friction coursing through you. The wet heat of Lily’s pussy soaked into your fabric, her natural slickness smearing along your gusset. Her scent grew stronger, dirtier, the longer the day wore on.

By evening, when they returned home, Chloe stretched out on the couch and smirked. “You know what would make this even funnier?” she mused. “We should swap for the rest of the week.” Your stomach dropped.

Lily grinned. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

Without hesitation, she peeled you off—cool air hitting you for only a moment before you were transferred into Chloe’s grasp. And then you felt the difference.

Chloe was bigger. Wider thighs, rounder hips, an ass that swallowed you deeper. She hooked her thumbs into your waistband and dragged you up her legs, your fabric straining against her thicker curves. The heat of her body was intense—her thighs slick with sweat, her puffy slit already pressed flush against your gusset as she wiggled you into place.

Her smell was stronger than Lily’s—musky, dirtier, the kind of scent that clung to the air. She hadn’t showered in days, the remnants of old arousal and sweat mingling with her natural musk. Chloe smirked down at herself, giving her hips a teasing little shake. “Mmm… these feel nice. Tight.”

Lily laughed. “That’s your boyfriend now.” Chloe patted the denim shorts she yanked up over you. “Guess I’m keeping him for the week.” And just like that, you were hers.

The next days blurred together in a haze of her scent, her sweat, her body using you as nothing more than a filthy accessory. She wore you hard—exercising, running errands, even sleeping in you, her pussy juices soaking into you night after night.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure they’d ever change you back.