Body Swap
Chapter 1

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Fiction, Paranormal, Incest, MaleDom, First,

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A soldier is fatally wounded in Afghanistan at the same time as a young boy is badly injured in a car crash which kills the rest of his family. The soldier desperately fights for life while the young boy wants to give up. they both get their wish.

Medic! Medic" I could hear the screams of my sergeant major as he urgently called for the medic.

"Get on that bloody phone son," He said to our wireless man, "and get a bloody chopper in here or he doesn't have a chance. Medic where the fuck are you! He called again.

It was as if I was floating and feeling nothing. I wondered who had copped it. Then the mists cleared and the pain hit me. I screamed in agony and I looked down and there was blood all over my trousers legs and I saw there was nothing where my feet and boots should have been. Wave after wave of agonising pain hit me and even the morphine I had obviously been injected with could not dull it. I passed out.

I floated in and out of consciousness for the next two or three days. In lucid moments I recognised I was in the base hospital. The same again and I was on an aeroplane strapped to stretcher with blood being fed into me from a drip. The next time I came to I was in a hospital back in England. As I drifted in and out of consciousness I was having flashbacks that enabled me to piece together what had happened. My small SAS patrol was on the way back to base from a mission when we came across an infantry patrol which had wandered into an improvised mine field. There were six guys trapped and from somewhere a Taliban was trying to pick them off and I saw one of the guys go down. I spotted the shooter and waved to my sergeant major and told him,

"Get that bastard."

We had not been seen and the three I was with followed my orders and fanned out to take out the guy with the rifle. Another soldier in the minefield went down. I crawled towards them marking my passage with my knife and feeling in front of me for the IEDs. I made it to where the first guy was lying wounded. I ordered the three who had not been hit to crawl towards me feeling their way as I had done. When they had made it I asked about the other two who were down.

"One has had it sir," He told me. "I don't know about Jimmy,"

He pointed to his man lying about six yards away. Who just at that point gave a groan. I picked up the wounded man that I had reached and turned to the others and said,

"I have marked a path so follow me and tread in my footsteps," I told them.

The corporal turned to his men,

"You heard the captain he's going to lead us out. Do what he has said."

"What about Jimmy?" One of the others asked.

"If we risk going for him now" I told him, "We might blow all of us up. "My guys seem to have taken care of the sniper. I'll come back and get him."

Once they were clear of the minefield I crawled back along my path once more. Within minutes I had found a clear rout to the wounded guy. I could see my sergeant major and the other two guys had made their way back to where the survivors waited, eyes peeled and guns ready in case any more of the bastards were in a position to fire on us. I could see other soldiers making their way towards our group. I hoisted the wounded man on my back and carefully made my way along the cleared path towards them. I had almost made it when I was hit with a burst of fire from another hidden Taliban. It spun me round and I fell backwards with the guy I was carrying and the last thing I heard was the explosion as I triggered a mine.

In the hospital I was still drifting in and out of consciousness and had very little awareness of what was happening to me. This time when I came round I had doctors crowded round my bed. Their voices still seemed to be coming from a distance and their figures were hazy because my vision was still blurred. One of the doctors said,

"He has survived the double amputation but if we don't stop the internal bleeding he won't make it. There is a limit to the amount of blood we can keep pumping into him."

"We need to get the shrapnel out too. That's what has moved and started the bleeding again," another one said. "There are enough bits in there to keep on doing it. It's risky but we have to get it out.

"Ok schedule him for theatre this afternoon and hope the poor bugger makes it," the first one said.

"Shit," I thought as they moved away, "Bits of both legs gone. Stupid bastard that's what you get for playing the fucking hero. I should have taken more time and made sure there wasn't another sniper around before going back in. There must be something wrong with my eyes as well for my vision is blurred, but at least I seem to be able to think more lucidly. I'm doped to the eyeballs probably to take away the pain. Just have to wait and see if I make it. I still think life with no legs is better than no life at all."

"Christ!" I thought, "what is happening now." I am floating above the operating theatre looking down at the doctors working on my body. They are desperately trying to stem a bleed out. As I watch another figure appears alongside me. He is floating too looking down on another theatre where they are trying to restart his heart.

"Hi" I said, "What's your name and what happened to you?"

"Peter and I was in a car accident," he said, tears in his eyes. "A lorry crossed the central reservation and ploughed into us. My mum and dad and two sisters are dead. I think I have broken so many bones I don't know if I will ever heal even if they save me. I have bones in my legs and arms pinned and they are going to give me a whole body cast so that I can't move since I have fractured my pelvis."

"What about you?" The boy asked.

Lost both legs in Afghanistan," I told him. "Internal injuries as well and they can't get the bleeding stopped. I looked down at the frantic attempts of the doctors below. It doesn't look as if I am going to make it. Shit!"

"My hearts stopped again, Maybe I won't make it either, I don't care." He told me.

"What age are you." I asked. "Just turned fourteen," he said.

"Well boy if I was in your shoes I would be down in that body fighting like hell to stay alive. You can work hard in physical therapy and get back on the road. If I make it I am going to do that." I told him.

"Sadly" a voice said, "You are not going to survive. My name is Michael and I've come to fetch you and to take you home."

We both turned to see a figure in white hovering with us.

"Take me home?" I queried.

"Yes." he said, "Some of the religions have some of it right. There is life after death and as Jesus told his followers a place has been prepared for you."

"But I thought sinners were condemned to everlasting agony or something."

"No," said the figure, "They just have to make up for their sins and some have to work longer and harder than others to achieve that."

I groaned and asked, "How hard have I to work? I wasn't exactly a saint was I?

"Are you talking about your love affairs," He asked.

"Among other things," I told him. "I am also a soldier and I have killed other men"

"Well!" said the figure, "Let's look at those things. "You had several women. Two you loved. With the others, you met one another's needs and no one was hurt as none of you had commitments. Where was the harm in that? As for the soldier, it was a centurion who was told he was a man of greater faith than any of the Israelites so that obviously doesn't exclude you. In fact I would quote you something else from your bible which that same prophet spoke. "Greater love has no man than this, that he should lay down his life for his friends." You have given your life for your comrades, and believe me that rates you very highly on our entry list."

"So it's not going to go too badly with me then?" I asked.

Quite the reverse, you are going to love it where we are going, because as I have said your place is already prepared and it is good.

"If I die would I be with my parents and my sisters?" The young boy asked.

Michael smiled, "You surely would," He told him. Your folks were good people and you and your sisters haven't had time to do anything that would stop you joining them."

"Well I would rather go back with you than go back down to the pain and the grief down there" the boy said.

"Listen lad," I said him, "You can fight your way through the pain and grief and you will find there is a lot of joy to be had in living. You can return knowing that one day you will see your parents and you sisters again. You can also make sure you lead a good life so that you get to go to the same place as me when the time is right."

"If you are so fond of living that you want to go on despite what Michael has said; then why don't you go back into my body" he said.

I laughed and said, "I would if that were possible but probably it is not."

Michael stroked his chin,

"I can see ahead, and the lad here has a hard time waiting for him and he doesn't handle it very well. In the long run he would be better off going now. If you took his place, you might save him a lot of grief here and in the world to come," He told us. "I have a bit of discretion on these matters. If you go back I can give you an insight into the kind of things you really need to avoid so that you don't tarnish what you have already achieved. Do you really want that?"

"If it is good for the young lad, then I will do it gladly and run the risk of making things worse for myself."

Michael smiled, "Then on your head be it," he said. "Here are his memories." he said." I should really modify yours, but in the light of what I know I am going to leave them intact. You will also have the insights I promised. Now go.!"

Things went black and the boy was breathing again and I found myself in his body and my mind went blank.

I regained consciousness in a ward with only four beds in it. I was confused for a moment or two and then remembered my conversation with Michael and Peter "Well that was a nice dream I thought, but then my hand that was not attached to a drip felt down my body and I was encased in plaster.

"Bloody Hell!" I thought, "Maybe it wasn't a dream after all."

I could not sit up. I could only turn my head. My mouth felt foul and I was really thirsty. I wished that someone would come so that I could find out what was going on. I sort of waved my free arm in the air only to find it was in plaster too. But a nurse must have spotted the movement and she came to my bedside. She had a staff nurse's badge pinned to her white coat and looked to be in her mid twenties and was quite pretty.

"Ah you are back with us, Peter," she said. "You were away longer than we expected. Can you see me ok?" she asked as she hovered over me.

I nodded my head and croaked out a yes. So I was Peter after all. It had not been a dream.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You are in the intensive care ward." She told me. "Your heart stopped twice during the operation so we are going to have you hooked up to monitors for a couple of days to make sure everything stays fine. The surgeon will be down to see you after the evening meal to make sure you are ok. You should be more aware of your situation by then."

"Could I have a drink of water nurse?" I asked. "I'm terribly thirsty."

She reached out to the table by my bed and produced one of those cups with a spout that babies drink from.

"I will have to hold it to your mouth," she said. "I think you would have trouble reaching it at the moment."

Saying that she cranked up the bed and I was tilted to a slightly more vertical position. She held the cup to my lips.

"Just Little sips," she said. "If you drink too much you could make yourself sick."

I managed a few sips before she pulled the cup away.

"That is enough for now." She told me. "I will come back in a little while and let you have some more. Do you feel up to having a visitor?" she asked.

"Who is it?" I croaked.

"It is your Aunt Isa. I believe she is going to be looking after you when you finally get out of here. Though that will not be for some time yet," she told me.

"Well that was something" I told myself. "I may be an orphan but it does not look like social services will be involved." It would have added to my troubles if they had to place me in foster care. At least I have a relative prepared to look after me.

"I would like to see her," I told the nurse. "I seem to be having difficulty putting names to faces at the moment."

She smiled,

"You have been through a great deal even before the trauma that took place in the theatre" She said. "I am not surprised if your brain is a bit addled. It will all fall back into place in time so don't worry."

A few minutes later a woman entered the ward and made her way towards my bed. My memories told me that Peter's mum had been in her late thirties. This must have been her younger sister because she was a stunner and I guessed her age to be early thirties. She had auburn shoulder length hair with reddish glints and the face of an angel. She wore a cashmere dress which clung to her body and highlighted the fact that she had wonderful breasts, a neat waist and trim hips with long legs, She had all the hallmarks of a woman who worked out, With an aunt like this to gaze at, I wasn't going to complain about my substitute mum. In fact in view of our physical age difference I was going to have a hard time literally when I had to live with her every day. Just watching her walk across the ward and my cock was springing to attention and that was despite the plaster and the pain I was in.

She pulled a chair up beside my bed then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"How are you feeling today?" She asked.

Thinking of Peter and his attitude, I decided to be honest rather than brave.

"Thirsty, aching all over and as uncomfortable as hell" I told her.

"Well I can get you a drink," she said, "but I am afraid I can't do much for the pain."

"The nurse said I had to drink little and often," I told her. "She said just little sips or I might throw up."

"Little sips it is then," she said reaching over my bed and my eyes were riveted on the shape of her breast as she hovered over me, taking the cup and holding it to my lips.

"Thank you," I said. "Do you know how long this body plaster is going to be on?" I asked.

"I think that might be the last one they will remove," she answered. "Your pelvis was fractured and your spine was out of line. I think they are hoping this will straighten things up and enable you to have a normal range of movement without incurring pain. They have pins in your legs and arms so I don't know about these either. It is usually six weeks but I don't know if they will have to put it on again once they take the pins out.

I groaned. "God, Aunt Isa I think I am going to be in here forever. I think my muscles will have wasted away by the time I get out of bed," I told her.

She smiled at me and said.

"Well I am glad to hear you talking about getting out of bed." She told me. "Before you went in for the latest round of operations you were wishing you had died and talking about wanting to die."

Oops. I thought, maybe I was too positive to early. I will give her something to think about to explain my change of attitude.

"Promise me you won't laugh if I tell you something strange that happened to me while I was in the theatre?" I asked. "And please let's keep it to ourselves I don't want other people to hear about it either."

"I promise," she said with a grin. "Go ahead. I won't tell a soul."

"My heart stopped beating, and I floated up out of my body and was looking down on the doctors working on me. There was another man floating there watching them working on him in the next theatre. He said he had lost both legs in Afghanistan and had other wounds. He said he was bleeding out and he did not think they were going to be able to save him. When I told him that I did not want to be saved because I was in so much pain and had lost my family he got mad. He read me the riot act and said at my age life should be precious and no matter how hard I had to work to get better I should be prepared to do it. If they saved him he said he would go through hell in rehab, but he would walk out of this hospital and that my attitude should be the same. Suddenly we saw another figure who told the soldier that sadly he was not going to get the chance to do that for he had come to take him home. He said other things but because the soldier had died saving his comrades he said a great place had been prepared for him and that he would love where he was going. Then I was back in my body and my mind went blank

My aunt was looking at me with astonishment on her face.

"Look Peter, You are right, I don't think you should tell anyone else about this."

She told me.

"Do you think I was hallucinating."

"No" she said, "While I was waiting to come in to see you, I heard two nurses talking to a woman who was a Major in the army. They did lose a soldier in the theatre today," She told me. "The officer said she was very sad about that as she had heard they were going to recommend that he got the Victoria Cross for saving his comrades"

"Why, haven't we to talk about it," I asked,

Although I knew full well the press hullabaloo that would take place if we released to them what I had seen I felt I had to play the innocent. Isa responded as I knew she would.

"You have enough to cope with Peter." She said. "If the press got hold of what you have just told me it would be headline news and you would have reporters pressuring you for your story for weeks. I think as a family we can do without that. We don't need the kind of money they might offer you. When your parent's estate is settled you will be a fairly wealthy young man."

"We're we wealthy then?" I asked.

"Not fabulously so, but if you agree then by the time the house is sold and the insurance policies are realised you will probably have assets in the region of two million pounds. Invested wisely, that will give you a fair income even before you start earning."

"Gosh!" I said, "I have never even thought of things like that. I would rather have my family back."

Isa smiled, "I would too Peter, but it is good that they have made provision for something like this. I should also tell you that our lawyer wants to talk to you about suing the owners of that lorry. Apparently it was not as well maintained as it should have been and this may have contributed to the crash. I would imagine their insurance would prefer to settle for a substantial sum rather than risk the punitive damages a court might award."

I was beginning to feel very drowsy again.

"Aunt Isa," I said, "I am feeling very sleepy. I am so glad you have told me all this but I think if I fall asleep you should just go. I don't want to take up all your time. Will you be back tomorrow?"

She smiled at me and said "I will look in late tomorrow afternoon and Mister McMillan our lawyer will probably be into see you a bit earlier than that if you feel up to it."

I could feel my eyes getting heavy so I said,

"Let him come, I might feel a bit more alert by then."

She gave me another kiss on the cheek and walked down the ward, I watched the wiggle of her gorgeous arse all the way to the door. Before I dropped off, I thought to myself, "Life as Peter was not going to be all bad. With the money left to him and what we would get from the lawsuit I was going to be more than comfortably off. It certainly beat what I would have received from an army pension even with the compensation for my missing limbs."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Fiction / Paranormal / Incest / MaleDom / First /