Amanda fumbles sleepily for her alarm clock, desperate to stop the horrid sounds that are blaring through her room. Her hand comes down on top of the offending clock once; twice; a third time. Defiant to the last, the alarm clock continues to fill her bedroom with its disharmonious tones. Her hand falls to the top of the night stand and begins to pat all around the evil timepiece's base. Her fingers at last locate the power cord and, after jerking back briefly in triumph, seize it and pull until the room is finally silent.

Amanda pushes her legs off the side of the bed and sits up, rubbing her knuckles briefly into her bleary blue eyes. With a wide yawn, she pushes her long blond hair back from her face and shuffles her feet about on the threadbare carpet until she locates and slips into her favorite fuzzy, pink slippers. She sits there for a moment mentally going over the days schedule: anthropology 101 at nine; volunteer work for MADD at ten; back to back classes from noon until four; and then a Campus Bible Fellowship meeting at six. She twists the chastity ring on her finger around for a moment while idly wondering what she will do after the meeting.

There will probably be something good on the Hallmark channel, Amanda decides as she stands; there usually is on Friday nights. Straightening her sleep rumpled flannel nightgown so that its hem settles around her ankles, she stumbles off towards the bathroom. She takes a quick pee and brushes her teeth. As she's leaning over the sink with bared teeth to check the results of the latter exercise, her reflection expands into a huge caricature of her face which grins cheekily back at her.

"Hi!" a perky voice says brightly.

"Who's there?!" Amanda cries out, jumping back from the mirror and looking frantically about the bathroom.

"How rude of me. I'm Alex," the voice replies.

Amanda's darting eyes come to rest on the toilet brush and she springs across the little room to grab it, bringing it to bear above her shoulder. She then creeps on tiptoes to the bathroom door and peaks timidly around the frame.

"Where are you, Alex?" Amanda whispers.

"Really, Amanda? A toilet brush? Who do you think I am? The Culligan Man?" the voice pipes out merrily.

"Who?" Amanda asks as she spins to face into the bathroom, her eyes searching the walls and ceilings for hidden cameras and speakers.

The voice lets out a little sigh, "Never mind. Before your time. But, to answer your earlier question, I'm in your head. Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but I suppose that explanation will have to do for now."

"In my head?" Amanda whispers incredulously, "Am I going mad?"

Alex replies, "No. No. No. If you were going insane you would never know it. You would just think everyone else was getting stranger. It's really quite simple; you've been semi-randomly selected for possession. Congratulations!"

Amanda presses her back to the bathroom wall and sinks slowly to the floor while wailing, "Possessed? I'm not just going insane, I'm already nuttier than a fruitcake."

Alex sighs again and mutters, as if to itself, but as itself is currently Amanda, Amanda is able to understand just fine, "Damn. I knew I should have taken my vacation a millennia or two ago. Introductions were so much easier in those days."

"Vacation?" Amanda asks.

Its voice resuming its earlier perkiness, Alex replies, "Yes, indeed! Vacation! Two whole weeks on the mortal plane! I'm so excited!"

Horrified, Amanda whispers, "Are you from hell?"

"No! Err, yes. Well, maybe. I suppose that you would think of my home dimension as hell, but hell really isn't what you think it is."

"Huh?" Amanda replies.

"Well, the heaven and hell of mortal religions are merely grossly distorted approximations of certain portions of the true multi-phasic, multi-dimensional structure of the multiverse."

"Huh?" Amanda repeats.

Alex sighs yet again, "The pertinent points are: the place I come from is not the source of all evil on earth; my friends and I do not get our jollies torturing damned souls for all of eternity; and I have no intention of making you vomit pea soup."

Slightly mollified, Amanda asks, "So what do you want with me?"

"I thought we covered that already? No? Okay, then. I'm on vacation! Two wonderful weeks of experiencing all the pleasures that a physical body can offer."

"You don't have a physical body?"

"I do now. Yours! But, assuming that you're referring to my natural state then the answer is: No, I'm completely incorporeal. Which isn't really as bad as it sounds; I will exist for all of time and can move about the multiverse at will. Flitting about the multiverse is actually a lot of fun, but without physical sensation even that gets dull after a few dozen aeons. Which is why I'm here."

"But why me?"

"You were selected by the finest travel agency in all of the outer planes of existence as a being who would be compatible with the parameters of my purpose for visiting the mortal realm."

"But how is this even possible?"

"Pretty simple, really. The travel agency selected you, I floated into the quantum harmonizer, and here I am, sharing your body with you. Sorry I didn't speak up earlier but the trans-dimensional transfer of sentience does cause a bit of ... well, jet lag. Now, how about showing me around my new diggs?"

Amanda blinks her eyes rapidly for a few seconds at this sudden change of subject, but answers, "There really isn't much to see; this is the bathroom, the bedroom is right outside the door and..."

Alex interrupts, "Not your apartment, Amanda. You."

"Me?" Amanda replies dubiously.

"Yep. You. So, stand right up and let's have a look under that nightgown."

With a blush, Amanda replies in a scandalized tone, "I'm not letting you see me naked!"

"Look Amanda, I'm a part of you, at least for the next two weeks. So, technically, the only eyes that will be looking at you are yours. You've seen yourself naked lots of times, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"So, what's the problem? You were about to take a shower anyway, and it's not like you can go the entire next two weeks without one. At the very least, you're certainly going to have to use the toilet. Face it, at some point, you're going to have to get naked while I'm here, so we might as well get it out of the way."

Confused and unable to think of a counter-argument, Amanda stands and pulls the nightgown over her head.

"Nice tits!" Alex says exuberantly. "I don't suppose that you would be willing to jump up and down a few times for me, would you?"

"No!" Amanda replies hotly while covering her breasts with her hands.

"Didn't think so, but it never hurts to ask. This is much better, anyway. Thanks!"

Amanda suddenly realizes that her thumbs and forefingers have ceased assisting the other parts of her hands in hiding her breasts and have instead begun to tenderly squeeze and stroke her nipples. Amanda gazes dumbly at the disobedient digits for a moment before pulling her hands violently to her sides. Her left hand promptly slips around behind her and gooses her bottom.

"Nice firm ass, too! I think I'm going to like it here," Alex exclaims happily. "By the way, we really are going to have to do something about that bush of yours. I've seen superclusters with less spread. You do realize that the seventies ended decades ago, right?"

"Stop it!" Amanda cries out while clasping her hands over most of her extraordinarily abundant pubic hair. "How are you doing that?!"

"Huh. Not the most luminous main sequence star in the universe are you, Amanda? Don't feel bad, intelligence is often overrated. But I digress. I did mention that I would be sharing your body with you. Implicit in the whole concept of sharing is a measure of coequal control."

"You can control my body?" Amanda cries out, aghast.

"I just said that it was coequal. That means that if we're both trying to move the same body part but in opposite directions, our efforts will generally cancel each other out. And, to be fair, I actually can't control your entire body yet; integration takes some time. At the moment, my influence only extends to those parts of your body above the navel."

Amanda squeals as one of the fingers that she has clasped over her bush extends over her plushly covered mound and lightly rubs circles around the hood of her clit. Blushing, she extends her arms directly out in front of her while crying out, "Don't touch me there!"

"It's your own finger Amanda. It's not like you've never masturbated before," Alex replies smoothly.

"I haven't!" Amanda shouts.

Incredulous, Alex asks, "You mean you've never groped the grotto, itched the ditch, ladled out the gravy boat, beat the beaver, did some buffin' of the muffin', paddled the pink canoe, tiptoed through the twolips..."

"No!" Amanda interrupts, her blush deepening, "I've never touched myself ... down there. It's dirty!"

"Well, then," Alex exclaims, as bright and perky as ever, "we'll just have to make it clean. So, how about that shower now?"

Amanda realizes that she does need a shower and that the hot water might help clear her head and let her make sense of all that is happening. Alex is silent as Amanda fetches a towel from the closet, turns on the water and steps under the warm spray.

After soaping up the washcloth, Amanda tries to wash herself as quickly as possible, doing her best to ignore the fact that her hands keep groping her when she passes over her breasts, ass or crotch.

"Mmmm," Alex moans happily, "you mortals take hot showers entirely too much for granted. Why don't you just relax and take a second to really feel the hot spray pounding into your back, the warmth radiating through your muscles, the water cascading sensuously down your body."

It does feel really good, Amanda decides as she leans back into the spray, her eyes drifting closed in enjoyment. She loses herself in pleasure for a long moment before she suddenly realizes that not all of the good feelings are coming from the water hitting her back. Snapping her eyes open she peers down and sees that her left hand is moving busily about between her legs. She feels one of her fingers gently rubbing back and forth between her pussy lips as another softly circles the delicate flesh around her clit. As waves of pleasure radiate through her body, she wills her fingers to stop, to move away, but they continue their tasks uninterrupted.

"Why can't I make you stop?" Amanda moans.

"Because you don't really want to," Alex replies soothingly as it directs the finger between her pussy lips to gently slide just inside her entrance, the tip swirling around in small circles. "Admit it, Amanda; this feels good, doesn't it?"

"Well, yes, but..." Amanda can't think of any buts as her pleasure continues to grow, causing her thighs to tremble and her stomach to quiver. The finger in her pussy moves a little deeper while continuing to swirl around inside her. Her knees go weak and she has to use her other hand to clutch desperately for the shower rod to keep from falling to the floor.

"There are no 'buts.'" Alex says gently, "There's no reason not to bring yourself pleasure; to use the parts of your body for the purpose for which they evolved."

The finger inside of her moves even deeper and her thumb begins to directly caress the erect nubbin of her clit. Amanda moans deeply as her knees weaken further causing the shower rod to buckle slightly under the strain of supporting her weight.

"Perhaps we should move to the bed before we fall and hurt yourself," Alex suggests.

In a daze, Amanda steps from the shower and hurriedly runs the towel over her body before moving to her bed. As she lies down on her back, her left hand again moves to her center and resumes where it had left off; sliding the forefinger slowly in and out of her pussy while the thumb traces lightly over her clit. She sighs softly as the pleasure again begins to radiate through her body.

Alex asks softly, "Why don't you help me, Amanda?"

Amanda knows that there is a reason that she shouldn't, but can't think of what that reason might be. "What should I do?" she whispers.

"Start by moving your right hand down to your pussy," Alex coaxes. Under Amanda's control her right hand moves slowly down the soft, taut skin of her stomach until her fingers comb through her thick pubic hair. The finger from her left hand slides out of her vagina and retreats slightly to ever-so-gently caress the sides of her clitoral hood. Amanda moans in disappointment at the sudden feeling of emptiness and knows immediately what she needs to do.

Her right middle finger slides easily into what is now their pussy, gliding deliciously over and into their flesh on a thin film of oily secretions. Amanda had been wet on an embarrassingly large number of occasions in the past, but never like this; she can feel a steady trickle of juices running down between the cheeks of her butt, forming an ever growing wet spot on the bed. As Alex continues to use Amanda's left hand to massage their clit, Amanda plunges a finger of her right ever more deeply into the tight recesses of their cunt, filling the room with liquid sloshing sounds. As she continues her ministrations, Amanda can feel the lips of their pussy growing thicker and more dense around the base of her finger.

"Add another finger, Amanda," Alex directs excitedly.

Amanda complies eagerly and moans at how exquisitely full she feels with the additional finger sliding in and out of her alongside the first. As Amanda's hips begin to thrust upwards to meet each delightful plunge of her digits, she can feel the heat rolling out from her engorged sex in waves. So much heat that Amanda can't believe that her pussy isn't steaming. She can feel the warmth elsewhere as well: in her chest, in her breasts, in the nipples that are swelling and tingling and almost aching with the lack of direct stimulation.

Alex dips the fingers of Amanda's left hand down across the lips of their pussy before bringing the now lubricated digits back to their clit. Amanda's breath starts to come in deep gasps and she can feel their vagina begin to contract rhythmically around her fingers. The contractions radiate outward from her center and, within moments, her entire body goes rigid. Amanda screams in ecstasy as pleasure explodes through their body and mind.

Amanda goes limp and lies panting on the bed; overcome with a lassitude beyond anything in her previous experience. The fingers of her left hand run gently between their labia a final few times and then drift up over the tingling flesh of her tummy before coming to rest on her breast where they gently tweak her nipple.

"Wow! That was great, Amanda! It was everything I had hoped it would be," Alex gushes enthusiastically, "You may start a little slow, but you sure do finish strong!"

Suddenly shy, Amanda asks tremulously, "Are you man, Alex? You know, when you're in the place that you come from."

"I don't have a gender, Amanda. I believe I mentioned that I'm incorporeal in my natural state. If there's one law in the multiverse that isn't violated in any dimension, however bizarre, it's that sentient energy matrices don't have genitalia."

"Oh." For some reason this increases Amanda's embarrassment and she searches for an escape, finally settling on the old standby, "I need to go pee." She winces as she realizes how flawed the usually reliable excuse is in her current situation.

"Okay! Let's go," Alex says agreeably.

Now that the afterglow of her orgasm is beginning to fade, Amanda is mortified. She can't believe that she had allowed that nasty little pervert in her head to make her perform such a dirty act. As she sits on the toilet, she does her best to look anywhere but down, determined not to give the pervert another cheap thrill.

"Huh, who would have thought that such a basic act as emptying a bladder would bring its own form of satisfaction?" Alex asks rhetorically, "Do you mortals ever do anything that doesn't feel good in some way or other?"

Alex then adds, "Oh, and Amanda? I would have thought that you would have figured it out by now, but, as you apparently haven't, I'm sharing your brain which means that I know what you're thinking. I may be a bit of a pervert from your perspective, but I didn't really 'make' you do anything. As I recall, you were quite happily finger fucking yourself when you could have been forcing me to stop."

As Amanda searches for way to shift the blame back to Alex, Alex adds, "By the way, you might want to look down; this will be difficult if I can't see and I really don't want to hurt us."

Eyes widening in horror, Amanda snaps her gaze to her groin where she sees that her left hand is holding a pair of scissors poised above her huge bush of pubic hair.

"Where did you get those?" Amanda yells.

"I snagged them from beside the sink while you were busy feeling guilty," Alex replies, "Now, if you could just spread your legs a little wider..."

Amanda struggles to take control of her hand, to force it and the scissors it holds away from her vulnerable bush.

"Now, now, Amanda," Alex cautions, "Do you really want to get into a battle of wills when there's a sharp object so close to your soft, lovely thighs?"

Amanda slumps, defeated. After spreading her legs slightly she sits and watches numbly as clumps of pubic hair fall into the toilet bowl.

"I don't know why you would want this thing anyway." Alex says as it gleefully directs her hand to reduce her luxuriant bush to stubble, "It's not like the carpet matches the drapes."

"Where do you keep your razor at, dear?" Alex asks before noting, "This will get itchy if we don't finish the job."

A half hour later, Amanda, now dressed in a denim skirt and blouse, is sitting at the kitchen table glumly "listening" to Alex gush happily over the chocolate chip cookies and milk it had insisted that they have for breakfast. She shifts her bottom about on the chair almost frantically; now that she's smooth shaven it seems that the crotch of her panties is constantly rubbing against her clit. The constant little pulses of pleasure are making it difficult for her to keep her arousal at bay.

"I have heard of chocolate before, but the reality of it far exceeded my expectations," Alex notes with satisfaction. As Amanda's left hand slides up along the smooth skin of her thigh and disappears under her skirt, Alex adds, "And I think I know the perfect way to top off breakfast..."

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Amanda cries out as she jumps to her feet. "That's the last straw! I can't take having you in my head even one more minute!" Amanda decides that her best hope lies with Father Dobbs, the priest of her church. He has always liked her. Surely, if she asks nicely, he would be willing to perform an exorcism.

"That's really not a good idea, Amanda," Alex interjects, "Let's just talk this over. I'm sure we can work something out."

Undeterred, Amanda goes to her closet and locates shoes that she can slip on without using her hands. After doing so, she marches to the door. After a ten minute struggle, concluding only when she uses her foot to disengage the dead bolt, Amanda gets the door open and surges out into the hallway. There she is stopped short by the grip her hands have formed on the doorway. Leaning forward, Amanda strains mightily with her thighs until, finally, Alex's hold breaks loose and Amanda stumbles down the hallway toward the stairs.

"Come now, Amanda, let's be reasonable about this," Alex says calmly.

"No! I'm not listening to you ever again!" Amanda replies hotly as she forces her fingers loose from the bannister.

"Oh, and Amanda? If we're going out into public, you might want to stop speaking out loud when you're talking to me; I can understand your thoughts just fine. No one else can 'hear' me and I really don't want to spend my vacation locked up in a padded room."

"If you're not talking out loud, how come everything you say is in quotation marks?" Amanda asks suspiciously.

"Well, dear, italics don't survive the conversion from Wordperfect format over to a text file and Notepad doesn't allow for multiple fonts in a single document. So, without quotation marks, our dialogue would be a lot harder to follow," Alex replies.

"Oh," Amanda says while rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "So, when I'm conversing with you inside my head, will my thoughts be in quotation marks?"

"Sure. Why not?" Alex answers agreeably.

Once out on the sidewalk, Amanda marches determinedly in the direction of the church, her progress only occasionally impaired by one of her hands flinging out to grab telephone posts, parking meters and the like.

As Amanda pries her fingers loose from the most recent street lamp post to be grabbed, she mentally hisses, "Stop that, Alex! You said you don't want to go to a padded room, but grabbing things and making me force you, err, myself to let go will get us there almost as quickly as talking to myself would."

"Good point," Alex admits grudgingly as it relinquishes control over Amanda's hand. "I'm telling you, though, that this isn't a good idea." Thereafter, it remains silent and docile for the remainder of their journey.

The familiar figure of Father Anthony Dobbs greets Amanda with a smile as she enters the church, "Amanda, dear. How very nice to see you. What can I do for you this fine day?"

"Father, something has happened that I need to talk with you about. Privately, if that's okay."

"Certainly, Amanda," Father Dobbs replies as he turns and leads her to his tiny office.

Once they are both seated, Father Dobbs asks, "What seems to be the problem, Amanda?"

"Well, Father, this morning when I woke up..." Amanda starts.

"I had an incredible urge to come and suck your cock." Amanda hears her voice finish.

Amanda claps a hand over her mouth but hurriedly pulls it away again when one of her fingers starts to salaciously pump in and out between her lips.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Amanda thinks angrily.

Alex replies calmly, "I told you that this was a bad idea. The only times that exorcism works in cases of actual possession are when either the possessing entity's vacation expires while the ceremony is going on or the entity just gets bored and leaves. Nevertheless, I have no intention of spending precious days of my vacation tied to a bed while listening to some dreary stick-in-the-mud mutter at us in piss poor Latin. Then again, the tied to a bed part might be interesting..." Both Alex and Amanda suddenly realize that the priest is talking and interrupt their internal argument to listen.

"Well, um, Amanda dear, I have to say that I am very surprised to hear you say that," Father Dobbs fumbles out. Then, in a deeper tone, he adds, "I've been dreaming of hearing you say those words since you were nine."

Amanda is entirely too shocked and appalled to prevent Alex from using her mouth to answer, "Well then, Father, why don't you pull out thy staff and thy rod?"