Chapter 1: The Switch
The air in Bellwood was thick with the kind of summer heat that made your skin itch for something wild. Ben Tennyson, all cocky swagger at 18, leaned against the Rustbucket, fiddling with the Omnitrix on his wrist. Gwen, his cousin and constant thorn in his side, sat cross-legged on the grass nearby, her sharp green eyes narrowed as she scrolled through her spellbook on her phone. They’d been bickering all morning—same old, same old.
‘If you’d stop playing hero for five seconds, maybe we’d get somewhere with this alien signal,’ Gwen snapped, her voice dripping with exasperation. Her auburn hair caught the sunlight, and Ben couldn’t help but notice the way her tank top clung to her curves. Not that he’d ever admit it.
‘Hey, I’m the one with the watch, Miss Magic. You just wave your hands and hope for the best,’ Ben shot back, smirking as he tapped the Omnitrix. ‘This baby’s got more power in one dial than your entire witchy playlist.’
Gwen rolled her eyes, standing up with a huff. ‘Keep talking, Tennyson. One day, that ego’s gonna get you in deep trouble.’ She stepped closer, her hips swaying with a confidence that made Ben’s throat tighten. ‘Or maybe I’ll just hex it out of you.’
‘Oh, I’d love to see you try,’ Ben challenged, stepping into her space. Their faces were inches apart now, tension crackling like static. He could smell the faint citrus of her shampoo, and damn if it didn’t mess with his head.
Before either could throw another barb, a rogue energy pulse from the Omnitrix—thanks to Ben’s careless fiddling—shot out, colliding with a stray spell Gwen had been muttering under her breath. A blinding flash engulfed them, and when the light faded, Ben blinked… only to see his own face staring back at him.
‘What the—?!’ Ben’s voice came out higher, softer. He looked down, hands patting at a body that definitely wasn’t his. Curves. Freckles. Gwen’s body. ‘No way. No freakin’ way!’
Gwen, in Ben’s body, flexed her—his?—arms, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she felt the raw strength coursing through her. ‘Well, well, Tennyson. Looks like I’ve got the upper hand now.’ Her voice was deeper, rougher, and the way she looked at Ben in her own body sent a shiver down his spine.
‘Switch us back, Gwen! This isn’t funny!’ Ben demanded, but his voice in her body sounded more like a pout. He crossed his arms, inadvertently pushing up Gwen’s chest, and her eyes darkened.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Gwen purred, stepping closer. She towered over him now, Ben’s body lean and powerful under her control. She reached out, tilting his chin up with a finger. ‘I think I like being in charge for once. And you… you look pretty damn cute all flustered like that.’
Ben’s face—or Gwen’s face—flushed hot. ‘Cut it out, Gwen. This is weird as hell.’ But his protest lacked bite, especially when her hand slid down to grip his waist, pulling him closer. He could feel the heat radiating from her—his—body, and it was doing things to him he didn’t want to name.
‘Weird? Or hot?’ Gwen teased, her smirk pure mischief. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. ‘Bet I can make you forget all about switching back… at least for a little while.’
Ben’s breath hitched as her hand wandered lower, brushing against the edge of Gwen’s shorts on his body. His mind screamed to push her away, but his body—her body—was already reacting, a warmth pooling between his thighs. ‘You’re insane,’ he muttered, but his hands gripped her shoulders anyway, pulling her closer.
‘And you’re curious,’ Gwen shot back, her voice a low growl. She activated the Omnitrix with a flick of her wrist, a green glow enveloping her as she transformed into something stronger, something primal—Upgrade, all sleek and powerful. ‘Let’s see how much power I can really handle in this body.’
Their lips crashed together, hungry and desperate, as Gwen’s enhanced strength pinned Ben against the Rustbucket. The metal was cool against his back, but her touch was fire, igniting every nerve. Clothes were tugged at, hands roaming with reckless abandon, and as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his—her—shorts, Ben knew they were about to cross a line they couldn’t uncross. And damn if he didn’t want to.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.