Bronwyn woke up slowly and gradually the next day. Her eyes lazily fluttered open to find that, just like on any other typical morning, she was holding tightly onto her body pillow. The full length of her body was pressed against the pillow's parallel form, which was bent and squeezed in its shape by even the slightest pressure.
She saw a strand of drool hanging from her mouth, stretching down to a small wet spot on the pillow's surface, not far from the mouth of the anime girl design printed on it. That part didn't happen every day, but it was a common (if slightly embarrassing) sight for Bronwyn to wake up to. She assumed she must have had some nice kinky dreams during the night.
She was reaching up to wipe her mouth, and at the same time trying to remember what those dreams were through the fog of her waking mind, when she felt a twitch run through the pillow she was cuddling. And she knew that the movement hadn't come from her own tired body. It jolted her just enough that everything fell into place. Last night... the whole past few days... that was all real.
Bronwyn looked down at the body pillow in her arms, with a clearer head this time. The anime girl's eyes were shut tight, which was not how that design would normally look. And the cartoon figure's arms and legs were curled up in a comfortable sleeping position, rather than invitingly splayed out at her sides. It all came back to Bronwyn with sickening clarity. This was Christine, the woman whose body she had stolen, whose life she had ruined, who she had probably traumatized beyond belief - sleeping peacefully in her arms, and twitching a little bit in Bronwyn's grasp as she did so.
But that wasn't the worst part. With a creeping sense of dread, Bronwyn glanced a little further down the two bodies that laid side-by-side, hers and the pillow's, and saw another wet spot she had left behind. Bronwyn's penis, still partially erect with morning wood, peeked just a little over the waistband of her pajamas. And all around the place where the head poked out, there were the slowly drying remnants of a sticky mess, which clung both to Bronwyn's sweatpants and the part of the pillow that had a short blue skirt printed on it.
"Aah!", Bronwyn shrieked, which was enough to wake Christine up from her slumber. Now both fully awake, the two women scrambled backwards and away from each other on the bed - Christine struggling to get far without arms to propel her.
Once the initial shock had passed over her, Bronwyn started to cry again, feeling like she couldn't do anything right. The hormones she was taking, admittedly, made her more prone to tearing up when under stress, but she had never been under this kind of stress in her life. She was practically inconsolable, trying to choke out some sort of apology through her tears - up until the moment she heard Christine's voice, shouting to be heard over the wet weeping noises. "This isn't your fault!", Bronwyn could have sworn Christine was saying. "It's because of me."
That confused Bronwyn enough that it shook her out of her tearful stupor and made her look back up at the pillow lying beside her. "What?"
Christine let out a deep, ragged sigh, her body undulating a little, bits of the dried cum flaking off from that soiled spot as she did. "It was my fault," she said hesitantly, bright pink circles appearing on the anime girl's cheeks. "Last night... you were holding onto me in your sleep. And I could've gotten away from you at any time, but I didn't... want to. It just felt... so nice, and your body was so warm, so I... started to snuggle up closer."
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There was an awkward silence after that. Christine didn't really want to go into more detail about what happened next, and she wondered why she had already divulged as much as she had - just to spare the feelings of the girl who was ultimately responsible for all of this? How much of Bronwyn's... abnormal psychology and her timid personality had rubbed off on Christine, anyway? Sure, it was embarrassing to explain what had happened last night, but why was she so easily flustered all of a sudden? Or was that the personality of whatever anime character was printed on her front?
At the same time, though, Christine felt that there was no point in keeping secrets anymore. The two of them had both literally been each other already - what was left to hide? She kept telling the story.
"And then... I remember you were sort of stirring in your sleep... below the waist. Your knees were gripping on to me down here," - she gestured with her cartoon arms at either side of her thighs - "... and that felt really good. So I started to, um, thrust myself back against you, with all the freedom of movement I still had. I didn't think you would... I didn't realize what I was actually doing until I saw how stiff you were down there, and by then it was too late."
Those words had only had a moment to hang in the uncomfortable air before the full weight of what she had done started to dawn on Christine. Not just during the night, but before that as well. In the past 12 hours, she had taken advantage of Bronwyn's body not once, but twice, and made her cum without her knowledge both times. She didn't exactly feel like an innocent victim anymore. "Oh my god...", she said, the shame starting to overwhelm her. "I'm so sorry! I should have known better... I should have just stayed away..."
Bronwyn was no longer crying, but Christine was not at all sure that any of this had made her feel any better for herself. The girl's lip was trembling. She might actually be feeling worse right now, Christine figured. Finally, after looking lost in thought for a long moment, she spoke. "I should've never agreed to this," she groaned. "I can't bring you to the Magic Shop with that stain on you. Here - I guess I'll have to give you a quick wash before we leave."
Christine was surprised by the sudden change in the girl's demeanor. Her tone of voice was much more serious - as if she'd just realized she needed to be the responsible one in this situation. She watched as Bronwyn reached for the other zipper attached to Christine's body - the normal one, which kept the anime pillowcase wrapped around the long cylinder of stuffing inside.
A second too late, Christine realized the problem with this plan. The magic zipper had made her into both the pillowcase and the pillow inside it - her two different, sometimes conflicting, bodies. If Bronwyn separated the two so she could go and wash off the pillowcase... what would happen to Christine? She was about to find out.