Identity Crisis: When Trevor Possesses Susan

When I came home to find my wife, Susan, strutting around in her underwear, I was pretty confused. It wasn't exactly a normal Tuesday evening activity for her. But the confusion turned into bewilderment when I heard her commenting on her "rack" and her "dump truck" as she called it. This wasn’t the Susan I knew; she would never say such degrading things.

As I stood there, slack-jawed, she spun around to face me, giggling. "Hey, honey! How do you like the view?" she asked as she jiggled her chest.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Uh… what?"

She stepped closer and kept staring down at herself, practically mesmerized. "I mean, look at this body! It's like a playground!" Her eyes widened, and she shuffled through her lingerie drawer like a kid in a candy store.

"Uh, Susan?" I asked hesitantly. “You feelin’ alright?”

She didn't answer immediately, too busy trying to juggle three bras at once. Finally, with a lacy red number in hand, she turned to me, eyes bright with a mischievous glint. "Tell me, do you think this makes my 'rack' look bigger?"

"Susan, that word is…" I trailed off. Nothing seemed right about this. My mind raced back to all the supernatural documentaries I binge-watched last weekend. Could someone—a man, even—actually possess her body?

"Come on, honey bunny. Just answer the question!" She pouted, pushing her lower lip out in an exaggerated effort.

Dangerous levels of cringe aside, this was not normal. "Okay, Susan, don’t get mad, but... are you really you?"

Her brown eyes flicked up to me—a different kind of gleam in them now. She stepped closer, her demeanor changing just slightly. "Uh, haha, yeah, totally," she chuckled nervously.

I squinted at her, as if I could squint the answer out. "What's our anniversary date?"

"Um... does that really matter right now? I mean, come on. Back to the important stuff," she deflected.

Crap, I thought. It was a long shot anyway. "Susan, tell me the truth. Are you someone else?"

She sighed, finally putting the bra back on the bed. "Whoops, guess you caught me," she said with a shrug. "I'm actually Trevor. From next door."

"Trevor? The kid who just graduated and still thinks it's cool to skateboard down our street?"

"The very same," he nodded, clearly pleased with himself.

My eyes widened with incredulity. "Trevor! What did you do? Some kind of possession spell?"

Trevor-in-Susan’s-body gave a cocky grin. "You betcha! Found it online. Best fifty dollars ever spent."

I facepalmed. “Trevor, why?!"

He looked down at himself and then back up at me. "Dude, have you seen your wife? She's smoking!" He lifted her arm to flex. "I mean, it's like I’m inside a living dream."

I shook my head slowly, trying to stay calm. "Trevor, you need to leave her body this instant."

"Nah, not feeling it." He stretched, arching her back with what I imagine he thought was as seductive an expression as he could muster. "Hey… what does this thing do anyway?" He lifted one of her feet and wiggled her toes.

I tried another approach. "Trevor, don’t you have midterms coming up? What if your professors find out?”

"Oh, no worries. I’m telling you, I nailed every exam last week."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Trevor, I’m not joking. You’re messing with things you don’t understand."

"But dude! Think of the fun we could have. You, me—well, 'Susan'—enjoying ourselves. It’s like... date night, but a little more spontaneous, right?"

I had reached my limit. "Trevor. Get. Out. Now."

He looked at me, pouting again—it was disturbing seeing this on Susan’s face. "Alright, alright. Just wanted to have a little fun."

A strange shimmer seemed to come over her eyes, and suddenly, Susan collapsed onto the floor.

"Susan!" I rushed to her side.

She blinked up at me, confusion etched into her features. "John? What... what happened?"

I sighed in relief and helped her up. "Long story. Let’s just say Trevor from next door will be getting an earful from his parents tonight."

She furrowed her brow. “Trevor? What did that little creep do now?”

I opened my mouth, then thought better of it. “You know what, let’s just leave it at that. Are you okay? Do you want some tea... or maybe a turtleneck?”

She looked down at her near-naked state and blushed crimson. "Oh my God! What am I wearing?!"

“Yeah, he... I mean, you... Never mind. Let’s just get you dressed first.”

As we fussed over getting her into some decent clothes, I made a mental note to make sure no more ‘possession spells’ were floating around the internet—and maybe to keep our windows closed when Trevor was outside. Mostly for his own good.

This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.

Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.

AI Prompts