FEStival Fiasco

FEStival Fiasco

Part 7

The Puppet that Played at being a Star

A lie.

That was all Centaurus could think when Professor Polaris said that.

“Y-You’re lying to me,” he said, wincing and chiding himself as he heard how shaky his own voice was. Why was he so nervous? His heart was pounding. Every pump was like a hammer to his temple. “You can’t be telling the truth… the whole war, being a lie?!”

It was far too ridiculous to be true.

No, it wasn’t just that.

If there truly was no war, then why was Centaurus born, nameless and abandoned, in those mines? Why did so many others before and after him? Why did so many of his fellow brethren die cold, hungry, alone, and in pain?

‘Did my suffering not matter? Did theirs? Did they all have no meaning?’

To believe the professor would be to accept those thoughts. And if Centaurus did accept them…

Why was he even here? Why was he even alive?

“Liar…! You piece of shit, I oughta kill you right here!”

Polaris’ expression remained unchanged; unwavering even as Centaurus charged him and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt.

“Where the hell do you get off mocking me?!” Centaurus demanded, spit flying. “Huh?! You bastard, you better tell me the truth right now or—!”

“You already know a way to see if I’m lying or not.” Polaris quirked an eyebrow, licking his lips. “You’ve seen your hosts’ memories, haven’t you? Well, it works for each other as well.” He smirked. “It really makes you wonder what was the real purpose behind our species’ ability to interact and share with each other’s neural networks. Maybe we were meant to communicate better with each other this whole time, huh…? Centaurus, what do you think?”

Centaurus’ grip slowly loosened as he took in Polaris’ words. “You want me to bite you, as though I was possessing someone,” he said, arms fell to the side, hanging limply as though they were lead weights. “I’ve… I’ve never done something like this.” When had his host begun sweating so much? When did he start trembling? What was Centaurus so afraid of?

‘Why am I even here?’ Once more, that question came to him, but he quickly shook it away.”

“Curious?”

“… Of course I am.”

“Well? Are you going to do it or not?” Polaris, still smirking, tilted his head forward so as to touch Centaurus’ borrowed forehead with his own. “I have high hopes for you, Centaurus. Search my mind, and don’t hide away from the truth.”

“… Are you taunting me…? Centaurus asked, drained enough that he couldn’t even remain angry at Polaris.

Professor Polaris let out a chuckle, pulling Centaurus in for a tight embrace. “I saw your potential, y’know? That’s why I fought hard to allow the board of our academy to allow you to attend. And more specifically, to allow me to become your teacher. Haven’t you ever wondered why a former military commander became a professor? It’s because I insisted.”

Certain details made more sense, but there was still someone odd about all of this. “But, why? Why did you want me to join the academy? Y’know I was a worm, so then…?”

“Because whether they like it or not, it’s only by meeting another with widely different circumstances that these students’ worlds actually expand. Without you, there’s no way that any of them will ever grow. But the reverse also applies to you. There’s no way you will the true injustices of the world without witnessing those who inhabit it. This is how the seeds of revolution can be planted. It’s the only way that society will ever change.”

Centaurus, frowning, scoffed and pointedly looked away. “This is such bullshit,” he muttered. “So I was just a puppet for you to manipulate? A tool for your little play at a revolution?”

It always felt as though he was being pushed and pulled by forces beyond his understanding. Whether it was the Elites who looked down on him from their ivory world or the coach who stood before him, Centaurus was just dancing to a tune that only he couldn’t hear. “What am I, Polaris? Am I just something to be used, or am I someone who can choose his own fate? Am I… simply a worm…?”

Coach Polaris’ expression grew grim. A heavy silence spread throughout the dark room. To Centaurus, it felt like “Judgment Day,” an event that held considerable importance in his host’s mind. Yes, Centaurus’ world felt like it was about to crumble before him. His purpose seemed scattered in the wind, as though it was about to vanish when it was so close in his grasp. He thought that he was building his own fate, a path that he crafted with his own hands.

Yet… that was never the case.

“Who am I?” Centaurus asked again.

“You’re… you. That’s all. That’s what you decided for yourself, right? ‘Centaurus,’ named after the sun that everything in our world revolves around. That was the point, wasn’t it?”

Centaurus hesitated, just for a moment. “Yeah, but not quite. I… I loved that sunrise that I saw, the first time I ever left those tunnels. And, I wanted to be that for others. Other worms that had spent their lives underground. I wanted to be like that beautiful sight that inspired me to finally live—finally retake myself. If just another one of my brothers and sisters was inspired, then I’d make it all worth it.”

That settled it. The truth was right before him, and Centaurus would sooner die than allow it to escape his grasp. He carried not just his own life, but all of those that came and died before him in those damn tunnels. Centaurus nodded and stepped forward.

It began.

“Allow me to show you,” said Coach Polaris, walking in a circle as Centaurus slowly spun, eyes glaring down at Polaris’ host. They moved as though following a rhythm only they could hear. Somehow, it felt right. The two moved and swayed as they approached, their fingers intertwining as they waltzed in the dark. “Is this instinct? Fate?” asked Polaris.

Centaurus shut his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.” He was leading for whatever reason. Was it his host’s idea? Muscle memories that were flowing out in this moment? “I’m doing what feels right.”

“It’s a forgotten dance in our people,” said Polaris. “We were meant to share our minds, our souls, with each other. But this hierarchy prevented that. This is the dawn of a new age, Centaurus. This is—”

“I don’t know if this is true or not yet,” growled Centaurus. “Let’s… Let’s just do this.” Deep down, he was trembling, but he threw himself towards the fire anyway. Centaurus leaned in and kissed Polaris’ host. He slithered through their intimate kiss into Polaris’ borrowed body.

The host choked and struggled as yet another creature slithered into his body. It was difficult for his body to withstand it as Centaurus crawled into his brain. The two snake-like creatures danced and chased the other's tail, following their instinct like always. An ouroboros. A dragon that would wrap around the world.

Centaurus' vision grew dark as foreign sensations flooded his body. It was a trade. Their minds, memories, souls, and hearts were all shared. It was an electric experience, somehow more intimate than sex yet somehow more universal at the same time. It was like he was ascending to the heavens or reaching Nirvana.

When Centaurus’ vision returned, he was staring up at a starry sky on unfamiliar soil. This wasn’t his memory, he had never seen this sight before. Yes, this was from Polaris. It was a hazy sight and he couldn’t move. It was like he was watching an old film that had been rescued from the clutches of being lost forever.

The stars looked more like streamers zooming by as fireworks lit up the night sky.

“You promised you would come home soon.”

Those weren’t Centaurus’ thoughts, but he heard them all the same.

“You promised you’d come back to them; and promised to come back to me. I waited for you on the ground, wishing on the stars that flew next to you to bring you back safe.”

A shooting star came barreling down the sky, a trail of smoke and flames right behind it. Centaurus’ heart raced as terror and despair flooded his mind.

“Why did you have to die…? I loved you. I loved you so much…”

His heart broke. Not Centaurus’, but Polaris. These were Polaris' thoughts. And the ship he Centaurus focused on carried the one whom he had longed for ever since he could remember. “I didn’t mind you finding another mate and building a family as long as I could remain by your side. How was I supposed to tell them you were gone? How could you take my love and leave me behind…?”

Zathina’s father, Altair, died on that day. His son, Vega, perished soon after in the same dogfight. There was little of each body to bury, a right both of them had.

Polaris mourned and suffered, and Centaurus felt each heartache as though they were his own.

‘So that’s why he wants to watch over her,’ thought Centaurus.

“All that remained of you was that child—Zathina. So I tried to help her, tried to keep her safe. She became hardened and strong, but I could still see the scars in her heart. She stood on her own, but it had crushed her completely to do so. It was like a vase that had been shattered and put back together. Though it still stood, it was far more fragile than ever before.

“And, I wanted to find out the truth. I wanted to know why you had to die, why this war that took you away continued to drag on despite victory after victory.

What was found… was schematics of the enemy’s ship, military plans based on their battle tactics, and receipts for expenses that had been kept secret. When Polaris found them, only one conclusion made sense.

“The ships you had fought that day… were built by our very own military. Not just on that day, but every combat you had ever flown on, and even before that. None of them were piloted by our enemy, the Carinos. In fact, they were more than likely extinct. Wiped out by us.”

When had the conflict ended…? For how long had the war been fabricated. How many of their own did the Emperor sacrifice for the status quo to continue? Those were the questions that raced through Polaris’ mind all those years ago. He had discovered the truth; he understood that there was no reason behind Altair’s death. He died for nothing. And a part of Polaris died along with him.

“I couldn’t stand being in that department for much longer. I left. I had to leave. If I didn’t, I was certain I would kill someone. Most of us there didn’t know the truth, but some of them did. Yes, the higher-ups must’ve known. I needed to leave and go elsewhere before I tried to make them pay. If I got myself killed before exposing the truth to everyone, I wouldn’t be able to avenge you, my love. So I left and joined the educational department. If I could make a difference with our youth, if I worked to change everything…”

It wasn’t long before Polaris discovered and joined an underground revolution. His eyes were open, and his mind would follow soon after. So much of life, even among the Elites, was hidden and censored by the Emperor and his council.

“Did you know, my dear Altair, that they no longer wish to be called ‘Worms?’ That’s right, they want to be Cosmopolitans; those who are found everywhere, those who are ubiquitous. Elites and Worms are to become useless terms. We all want to become Cosmopolitans. That’s what freedom is, right?”

Time passed, and eventually Polaris came to find someone named ‘Centaurus’ trying to apply to the academy. It had taken urging for the school board to accept him, but Polaris’ reputation was a major help. Perhaps his young one would join the revolution. Perhaps he would be a good influence on those Elites that had little knowledge of the people that were forced below them.

‘It was him… Polaris had been… guiding me along…

‘And… it was really a lie…

‘A lie… the war… the society that had been shaped by it… it was all falsehoods.

‘They died…

‘For nothing…’

“I’ll kill him. The Emperor. I swear I’ll kill him. I won’t rest until my hands are around his thorax.”

The last sight The Emperor would see was a shining star sending him to hell. Centaurus swore on that.

"How Does Managing a Team Work?"

Back at it again! It’s James. Quick recap, managed to recruit another friend of mine to join our crew battle that my roommate, Kor, wrangled us into. Now we were three for the crew battle, myself, Kor, and Jason.

I just needed one more guy to help round out the crew and all we would need after that was just to practice. Luckily, I think I had a good idea.

The guy’s name? Ronaldo. I hadn’t seen him in any sort of e-sports or gaming clubs, but I did hang out with him one time at a barcade. He was more Kor’s friend than mine, which made it clear that he was a pretty hetero guy with little time to worry about nerdy hobbies. However, one thing I did notice about him was how much of a killer he was at rhythm games.

“I’ve never even played this game before, but I like dancing. I was even in a band back in high school. And I like to DJ on the side,” Ronaldo had told me during that night. In all honesty, I hardly remember his exact words. He was far too busy throwing out just about every crowning achievement he’d ever had since birth to pay attention to my reactions. But I became a believer once I saw what he could do.

Ronaldo was a master of rhythm. To my utter amazement, he never missed a single note. No matter how much he cranked up the difficulty nor how sweaty his toned body got, Ronaldo kept dancing with a serene grin on his face. His feet were like magic.

The game threw torrents of notes at Ronaldo, but he didn’t slow down. Not only that, but he had also performed patterns and movements I had no idea one could do with his arms. The night had ended with his shirt completely soaked and me completely in awe. “What did I tell you?” he asked as soon as he saw my expression.

Ronaldo was amazing and exactly what we would need for the crew battle.

“Ronaldo?” Kor said, face scrunching up once I mentioned him. The two of us were eating dinner together. As had become tradition, Kor didn’t wear a shirt. “You wanna bring that guy in? Why?” If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he looked rather crestfallen. Or maybe concerned? However, I didn’t put too much thought into it.

Kor continued with, “C’mon, we’ve already got a good team with you, me, and Jason. We don’t even need anyone that skilled, just some schmuck benchwarmer.” He smirked and flexed his arm.

“You saw him at the barcade,” I said. Jason frowned and his arm slumped down. Was he disappointed?

Ignoring that, I continued talking. “We could use everyone we can get. So just let me convince him. Y’know I’ve got a silver tongue.” Kor tensed up at my words, but he didn’t say anything. However, he made sure to tenderly stroke my thigh with his hand under the table. I blushed and told him, “Relax. You’re still the best player I’ve ever known.”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure exactly what Kor and I were. I had completely and utterly messed with his mind. Before, he was a straight man who just wanted to get into my hobby because it looked fun. Now he had a homosexual fighting game genius with what I could only assume was a crush on me. Whether we were behind closed doors or as public as we could be, Kor always made sure to slip in tender touches and kisses whenever he could. It was as if he was showing off to everyone that, “Yes, here he is. And here we are. And he is mine.”

I didn’t mind it. No, more than that. I loved it. I had never received attention like this before. However, there was a lingering feeling of guilt that began to take root in my chest the more Kor flirted and teased me. These emotions weren’t completely authentic, they were thoughts I had infected him with while possessing him. So was this infatuation fake? Should I try to turn him back?

‘Questions for another day,’ I thought as I shut the door to my room behind me. I couldn’t allow myself to start hesitating now. If I did, then Kor and I would be sleeping on the streets next month. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should take over some rich bastards and drain some of their bank accounts, but doing something like that needed levels of planning I didn’t have time for just yet. I would give it more thought later.

I spread myself on my bed and took a deep breath. My body once more morphed into gray smoke and took the skies once more. Again, that feeling of flight was addicting, almost more so than the feeling of possession.

“Yeah, Sophie, y’know I love you…” Ronaldo lay on his bed, chuckling as he spoke into his phone. Next to him was his laptop. I peered closer to see who he was messaging and noticed the name of another girl with several… lewd emojis.

“Aight, I’ll see ya soon, then. Love you.” He audibly smooched before hanging up. With a practiced hand, he peeled his boxers down and revealed his erect cock just as the woman he was messaging sent her a nude. He licked his lips and then got to work pumping his dick.

‘Disgusting,’ I thought to myself. Any amount of regret or reservations I had about possessing Ronaldo went out the window. I took a deep breath and made my way inside of him. The most way I figured would be through that big, juicy cock of his.

Ronaldo let out a gasp as his pecker suddenly became erect. “Wh-Whoah, what the—oooOOOHH!” He grit his teeth as a sudden stream of energy started pumping into his cock. He could do nothing but lie on the bed, his whole body convulsing as I ruthlessly surged into him tight and toned core.

First I felt the soft sheets rubbing against my skin. Then I felt bloating sensation, as though I would burst with the force of two people within me. After that was the pleasure that coursed throughout every pore of Ronaldo’s body—two souls becoming enraptured in a fight for dominance. However, he was far more submissive than I. My soul stomped his, forcing it to “kneel” to my whims as he lost consciousness.

‘Let’s make this fun for you and I…’ I whispered to Ronaldo’s struggling soul.

“What the fuck—OH!”

Simply possessing Ronaldo wasn’t gonna cut it. I wanted to make sure that this little trip inside of him taught him a reason about fidelity. To do that, I made the experience as slow as possible.

I ran Ronaldo’s trembling hands down his thighs before massaging his pecs, making sure to pinch and play with his nipples. I got a massive rush out of doing that, and so did he. I could feel his legs tremble and his teeth suddenly bite down on his lower lip to prevent any embarrassing noises from getting out. However, I wasn’t gonna let him spoil my fun like this.

Seizing control for a brief second, I opened Ronaldo’s mouth and let out an enormous, lustful moan that would make a whore proud. He immediately covered his mouth, turning red from the shame.

“F-Fuck...I’m… I’m gonna…!” Ronaldo’s pleasured moans echoed throughout the room as his hips buckled beneath the force of my soul taking him him. His eyes shot wide open as cum burst from his engorged launched wave after wave of semen high into the air, landing all over his sweaty chest and core. Ronaldo, covered in a sheen of sweat, could only gasp and writhe as he passed out and allowed me full control over him.

I awoke soon afterward. His whole was sore, but I didn’t mind. I rubbed his hips against the sheets a few more times, letting out cute little noises the whole time, before stretching in bed. “Welcome to the team, Ronaldo,” I said as I got to work.

Of course I played with barely anything on. It’s practically tradition at this point! I made sure to snap a quick selfie and send it to myself as material for later on.

I had my crew. Now we just needed to practice.

"Mmm, that's good. Keep that pose." Natasha said as she took another photo.

Snap!

"Great! Your pictures look wonderful, Landon," said Natasha, giving him a thumbs up. "I'll send them to you in a minute."

"Thanks, darlin'. Lemme just get yer payment. 's in the kitchen." Landon excused himself and made his way inside his home. As he passed the hallways mirror, he couldn't help but stop and admire his face. Although it was technically the first time he had ever shaved himself, he really did a good job.

"All right, Nat, here's yer pay. Thanks fer the pics. I'll make a killin' sellin' 'em online."

"Didn't see you as the OnlyFans guy, Landon. What changed?"

"What can I say? It's time the world saw a whole new me." Landon couldn't help but flex a little as he said that. He inwardly chuckled as he saw Natasha stare just a second too long.

"Ah, well," she said, quickly regaining her composure. "Either way, it's nice to get a commission. You don't mind if I post a pic or two on my site, right?"

Landon shook his head and shot her a suave grin. "No prob, darlin'. Don't mind the whole world seein' this new me." Natasha thanked him for the boost in her new photography career and left.

Finally alone, Landon made his way to his room and lied down on the floor, enjoying his stolen flesh.

"Lookin' cute, cowboy," Landon said to himself as he took a selfie of himself on the bed. Natasha's pictures were on the way, but he couldn't help but take a quick pic to admire.

"So glad I took your body, earthlin'." When the alien fell to earth one fateful, it quickly slithered into Landon's home in search of a worthwhile host. It found the cowboy resting, clad in just a pair of heart-print boxers, after a hard day's work.

Its slimy form slithered into his cock, causing Landon to wake and panic as a foreign being invaded him. The possession caused Landon to climax, and the little alien quickly fell in love with its new host. Now it planned to share its beautiful new home with all its new lovers, both its sexual partners and those who would admire from a screen.

"It's me, Landon," the alien spoke with its southern accent. "Lemme make all yer dreams come true."

Gotta use the poll feature for something!

Otherwise, it feels like a waste! So let's just chat and discuss some things we like to see in stories.

I can see the appeal for both sides. Although since this is primarily a written medium, I also understand any indifference towards it. Eye color changing would have more of an impact if we were comic artists or something.

But eyes briefly turning black or shining with light for just an instance sounds pretty cool! I wouldn't mind giving it a try.

Share your thoughts in the reblogs.

In-hair-atence

When they pass, some give money, others give land, and even a few are able to part with important mementos or family heirlooms. Me? I give people the honor of becoming my next vessel.

One a peaceful Sunday morning, I awoke with my little boytoy next to me. "Good morning, Hunter," I whispered sweetly as I gave him a tiny peck on his lips. Though the day had only just begun, I could feel my weary bones protest as I stirred.

This body was in its 60s, and I was beginning to reach the end of my rope with it. It had treated me well the past few decades, but it was time to move on.

"Good morning," said Hunter, smiling back. He always tried his hardest to reciprocate the love I showered him with, but we both knew he was merely faking. I had already paid his new luxurious apartment and had him placed in my will. As long as he played the part, his financial future was practically guaranteed. Once I croaked, he was free to spend my fortune however he wished.

That was fine for me as well. I wasn't ready to part with the money I had accrued during the centuries I had been alive. And his youthful, stupid vigor was exactly what I needed after spending so long inside this older body.

"I've got a little gift for you," I told him, chuckling when his eyes lit up as they always did. So predictable, so stupid. Digging into my nightstand, I pulled out a little box barely the size of my hand. "I want to see you wear it," I whispered as I handed it to him.

Hunter didn't pay much attention. He opened the tiny box and pulled out a tiny necklace. "Is this it?" he said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. He probably thought it was something more chic. His mood shifted when he noticed my incredulous look. "I didn't think it'd be so small is all. I love it!" he said, beaming at me with forced enthusiasm. I just smiled back and nodded, encouraging him to put it on.

The fool put i on without hesitation, and his fate was sealed.

As soon as the necklace was around his neck, the spell began to take form. "Huh, what the--?" was all Hunter was able to say before he collapsed on the bed, flat on his back. His body seized up as a tidal wave of magic crashed over the apartment bedroom.

I breathed out a sigh of relief as all sensations failed me. My body, nostalgic yet well-worn out, faded into nothing but dust as my essence was freed once more. Hunter could do nothing but look on in horror as his sugar daddy faded away and a body-stealing specter now hovered above him.

"Enjoy your gift," I whispered before plunging into him. He of course struggled, but his weak and vain soul was no match for my experienced self. I swiftly engulfed his essence into my own, feeling a lifetime of memories in the span of a few seconds, and rapidly expanded into his convulsing body.

"Ahh...! Aurgh... right there!" I gasped as I felt the sensation of filling a new vessel. His youthful vigor, the rug of hair all over him, and his bottomless libido... all of these came together as my hips thrust into the air, releasing a shower of cum all over my new form.

I opened my eyes and took my first breath. I was like a newborn. The world was so intense, so sharp, and so full of possibilities.

"So long, Mr. Grayson," I muttered. My old vessel used to be a dear friend before I stole his body. Now he was gone, and a new life was mine. "And hello to a sexy new me."

And the cycle began anew.

Not Another Goddamn Interview

The job market was tough, and Holden had been unemployed for far too long. Months of interviews, companies ghosting him, and rejections drove him to a boiling point, and someone had to take the brunt of Holden’s anger.

The interview started off well, but when Holden’s lack of experience and months of inactivity after graduation came into light, an awkward silence permeated the office. Holden stuttered a few half-answers of clubs he attended during college, but Mr. Wells, the interviewer, looked unimpressed—as so many others did before him.

“Well, Mr. Wilde,” Mr. Wells began with little enthusiasm. Holden’s heart began to race as familiar words returned to haunt him once more. “We’ll be in touch. I wish you luck in your future interviews, as well.” Mr. Wells stood up and offered Holden his hand.

Barely managing a smile, Holden stood up and gingerly reached out to shake Mr. Wells’ hand as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. ‘I’m never going to get anywhere… Another goddamn rejection… How am I gonna pay rent next month…? Savings are getting low… That gap in that resume is gonna get even loooonger…’

As Holden shook Mr. Wells’ older and calloused hand, he launched himself towards Mr. Wells. “What the—!” Was all Mr. Wells could say as Holden’s body shifted and morphed. A stream of blue gel-like substance forced itself into Mr. Wells’ mouth, muffling any screams for help. More and more of the slime pumped itself down Mr. Wells’ throat as he fell back into his chair. His legs spread out, kicking the floor and convulsing as another creature filled up his body.

Soon, as the last of the slime finished entering his body with a sickening slosh, Mr. Wells let out a low groan. He blinked, eyes flashing a light blue before returning back to normal. Holden looked down at the body he was inhabiting. “I’m not sitting through another goddamn interview,” Holden muttered to himself with his borrowed voice. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Promising young man,” Holden chuckled to himself as he wrote a report the interview. Possessing Mr. Wells’ body wouldn’t guarantee landing a job in this company, but at this point Holden figured he might as well give it a shot. “Lots of energy and enthusiasm. Really blew me away!”

While writing, Holden looked down at the particularly heavy chest he now wore. Curling the toes in his dress shoes and flexing the cock hidden by the slacks, he couldn’t help but grow aroused at the body he now wore. “Kept things casual while maintaining an air of,” he paused to groan as he gripped Mr. Wells’ crotch through the slacks, “an air of professionalism.” He capped off the report with that and reached down to his waistband.