Body Swap Mega-Collection

By Irma Marazza

Warning: This 29,000 word collection features graphic sexual descriptions. Read at your own risk!

The definitive collection of Irma Marazza's Body Swap Stories is here! This collection is six stories of sexy, dirty, body-swapping madness! It contains the full Borrowing Heather's Body Series and the complete Borrowing Megan's Body Trilogy! You won't want to miss this epic collection!

Excerpt: Megan felt something strange, something she had never felt before...Curious, she didn't delete the photo, but scrolled over to the next one. In this one, the bra was off. Megan, to her own revulsion, found herself staring at her own body with lust! Some latent part of Will's Brain was turning Megan on- by herself!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Winters-Marazza Publishing
• Release date: Jul 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310080135

Book preview

Body Swap Mega Collection

Irma Marazza

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Winters-Marazza Publishing

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Love Irma’s work? Then let her know! Leave a review at Amazon, Smashwords or your site of purchase! Also, subscribe to the Winters-Marazza Publishing Newsletter for the latest release info for all of Irma’s titles! Subscribe here or at our site http://wintersmarazza.wordpress.com/

Table of Contents

Borrowing Heather’s Body Part 1

Borrowing Heather’s Body Part 2

Borrowing Heather’s Body Part 3

Borrowing Megan’s Body Part 1

Borrowing Megan’s Body Part 2

Borrowing Megan’s Body Part 3

Borrowing Heather’s Body Part 1

The empty bottle clattered to the floor as Victor stared drunkenly at the TV.

Dr. Victor Von Diver, he rambled drunkenly, Broke nobody.

The TV blared, it was the only other sound filling the studio apartment. He stumbled up from the chair, drunkenly resolving to go to bed. Vic picked up the bottle and walked past his desk to the trashcan. He glanced over at the wall. There was his PhD in neurology, a picture of him in his cap and gown; another of him standing outside the headquarters of the world-famous research hospital. His parents had sent him that one.

Vic, in his drunken state, forgot all about the trash; he let the bottle clatter to the floor again as he sat in front of his laptop. He struggled to focus on the screen. Still, he opened the browser and typed slowly and deliberately into the search engine, Victor Von Diver. The results populated exactly the same as they had yesterday, and last week, and last month.

PhD Researcher accused of stealing radioactive substance

Radioactive substance traced to terrorist plot

FBI Raids home of accused student

Finally, on page four of the results:

Charges dropped on terror-linked researcher

And: Accounting error, not terrorism drove FBI raid—Agents Disciplined

He sighed. There was no way anyone was going to hire him as more than a lab assistant after that. One false accusation was all it took to demolish his brilliant career. Did they know the humiliation of working for someone whom you used to teach? He wondered. What it felt like to be a lab assistant earning 13 dollars an hour? His drunken bitterness surged inside him. Finally he stood and slammed shut his laptop. He stumbled to bed.

* * *

The alarm blared as Vic pried his eyes open. He swore; hung over again. How much did he drink last night? He showered and dressed. As he groggily left the apartment, he looked down at the whiskey bottle. Clearly, he had put away quite a bit more than he intended. He left the bottle on the floor and resolved to pick it up later. Not like any women were coming by the apartment anytime soon. Who wants to date an accused terrorist?

He took his beat up old sedan to the lab where he worked. He unlocked the door and began to ready the equipment for the day’s research. The only reason he was allowed anywhere near this lab is because there was nothing small enough to steal, and he had done his dissertation on this sort of neurology. It was bleeding edge brain science. It experimented with sending information directly from the brain, through cyberspace, to another brain. The potential payout was huge.

But he wasn’t the head researcher, of course. The door opened and Vic looked up. Heather entered. Heather had been one of Vic’s undergrads when he was a teaching assistant years ago. She was smart, personable, a capable scientist, and stunningly beautiful. Tall, blonde, and poised, she exuded class and confidence. She was the facility’s rock star, their favorite public face. And with her model good looks and sterling reputation, she would probably go on to run the company. Vic assumed it was simply an oversight that a pariah like him was even in the same office as such a rising star.

Hey Vic! She said. She sounded especially chipper this morning. He hated her.

Hey. He mumbled. She began to glide around the lab, playing with this or that, tweaking things here and there. He couldn’t stand it.

He should be the rock star. He should be the senior researcher—not this blonde bimbo. But the FBI’s bungling had turned him into a criminal. But Vic was not one to sit back and let his life fall apart around him. He would show Heather…

The day passed as usual, and like the good lab assistant he was, he agreed to stay and clean up. He waved farewell as Heather pranced off to her car. The only two in the parking lot was her sports car and his 14 year old sedan. It was embarrassing. As she climbed in, Vic made a show of getting out the broom. But as she drove off, he tossed it back into the closet.

It was time to begin his own research. Using the lab equipment, Vic had secretly been researching another application for the cyber-neural communication technology. Vic theorized that a person could not only exchange information, but actually switch minds using the technology. He had proven it on mice and monkeys. It was harmless and reversible. But before he could patent it, he needed to prove it could work on humans.

Vic had been planning his final test for a long time. He worked late into the night, finalizing his preparations. He would be killing two birds with one stone. Earning his place as a legendary neuroscientist and exacting his revenge on the stuck up Heather.

* * *

The next day began like business as usual for Heather. She had arrived, put her lunch in the fridge, and checked in with Vic. It was a busy day, so she didn’t get a chance to sit down and eat her lunch until around 2:30. She ate her sandwich and opened her apple sauce. There was something odd about the taste. Still, she finished it and went back to work. For some reason, Vic kept staring at her. It was, creepy to say the least. And she was feeling tired. Very tired.

By 4:00 she was exhausted. She turned to Vic, I’m not feeling well. I’m gonna be in my office. Just come get me if anything happens.

Vic smiled at her, Okay. I’ll take care of things here. Don’t you worry. Don’t you worry at all.

Heather walked into her office and closed the door. She slumped down into her chair. Before she had time to think, she was out like a light.

Vic, meanwhile struggled to control his excitement. As 5:00 rolled around, no one was unnerved to see the old sedan and the sports car as the last two cars in the lot. Vic knew it was time to get to work.

He wheeled out the two exam tables. Heather’s would need some straps sure, but he made sure hers was secured by a padlock; one that only he knew the combination to. Next, he opened the door to his blonde coworker’s office. She was still slumped over the desk, snoring gently. She was almost cute. He loved that body though. So lithe and beautiful. He picked her up by the waist. No need to be gentle, the drugs were powerful enough to keep her asleep all day. Or until he gave her the antidote. He dragged her body into the lab. He locked her firmly into the table. She wasn’t going anywhere unless she could figure out the combination to the padlock.

Vic fixed the nodes that ran into the massive supercomputer overtop the blonde’s head. Securing them in place, he decided to enact the last phase of his plan. He injected himself with a drug cocktail that would put him asleep in an hour or so. With a nervous sigh, he injected Heather with the antidote. She had to be awake for the transfer. But more than that, he wanted her awake. He wanted to see the fear in her haughty eyes as she found out her fate. Heather groaned as the antidote took effect. She was coming around.

Heather. Heather. Wake up you bitch! He leaned