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"Cheers luv, the cavalry's h-"

"WHAT?!"

She stood fuming. Aghast. Outraged.

"This isn't the right suit! Fuck!"

Unsure how to answer, the suit of Lena Oxton stuttered her usual catchphrase short.

"Uh... Oookay? Um, you're still gonna wear me, right luv?"

The petulant girl instead ditched the box on her coffee table and checked her order tracking again to make sure. Her package was marked 'delivered', but Mei wasn't here. Definitely not. She'd undressed, ready to slip into a nice, cuddly, relaxing Mei, designed to be comfortable and calm for her times of stress. Times like right now.

"Hey! Don't just leave me in 'ere!" The animate skin grew agitated, unfurling in lumps to escape the container she was pressed within.

"Oh, shhhhuddup..." she replied, reaching a hand to shove Tracer back inside and shut the box.

Unfortunately, this was about the worst thing she could do, as the living suit seized the chance to escape - grabbing her, wrapping around her wrist.

"HEY!" she cried, swinging wildly and stumbling. The suit had an immovable, sticky grip as it swarmed over her, swallowing up her shoulders, descending along her body. She disliked Tracer deeply, and the idea of becoming her in the flesh made her seethe.

She grabbed, twisted, wrestled as fervently as she could but the sticky surface refused to heed her protests. She was soon overcome and made helpless to the will of the suit as it pulled down onto the sofa, laying her wriggling body flat.

"Shhh... Oi, Stop movin' so much and I'll be quick..." Tracer wasn't in any mood to be denied a warm host. She'd spent far too long alone in that box, buzzing with energy, desperate to claim the first person she could get her hollowed-out hands on. Long legs, slender arms all itching to take hold of someone and make them wear her skin.

"Mmmmph!" the complaints were cut short by a thick, long gag worming its way inside her mouth. It slid worryingly far down into her throat before the inner surface of Lena's face clamped down onto her own, threading tubes inside her nose and ears as it did. Just as she'd survived those protrusions with a blush, she felt an alarmingly large attempt to slide inside her body from below, her sphincter putting up a valiant fight against the eager equipment.

"Alright, alright, just relaaax... Take it easy, darling..." Despite her impatience, the suit still wanted her wearer to be comfortable, even as her prehensile plugs pressured against the protesting hole they pleaded to be placed inside. Well, she'd take as long as she needed. The indignant girl she had in her clutches certainly wasn't going anywhere...

"Nnnnh! Mmmm...!" Her writhing protests were fruitless. The suit had total dominion over her, pinning arms and legs in place while it tightened. She couldn't conceal the burning red cheeks on her face, or the moans and squeaks suppressed by the thick filling in her mouth, or the furious attempts to break free slowly becoming a rhythm of squirming and grinding...

At last the slippery device worked its way into her butt, drawing the suit in even tighter and burying its anchors inside. At last, Tracer's trademark backside tightly asserted itself. The protrusion's wormlike wriggling made her gasp and buck, aroused in spite of her reluctance to become one of her least favourite heroes.

"Now, listen here, luv..." and that shrill voice she disliked so much, so cheesy and awful, now coming from inside her... "... You can keep struggling and I can keep ya stuck here for a nice long time. Or, you can be a good lit'l girl and relax, 'cause you're not getting out 'till I feel like it. Got it?"

With a final squirm, she was exhausted. "...Mmmmmmmmh...." Slumped there, exhausted, breathless... and aroused against her better judgement.

Now that all the appropriate adjustments were made, Lena lay there naked on her host's couch, ecstatic to finally be worn after such loneliness. "Ahhhhh, luv, this is the best... how about I let you have a turn now, yeah?"

Taking a few more heavy breaths, she discovered her movements were once again her own. Clinging to the cushions for support, she sat up and finally acknowledged the body of Tracer clinging onto her, scanning her cleavage and beyond.

"Yep! You're world-class Overwatch agent Lena Oxton, now! What do you think?"

With an undisguised grimace, she brushed fingers over her face, clasping the skin that had enveloped her.

"Eugh... I... I'm sorry but, I really just don't like Tracer that much... "

"What?! The suit reacted indignantly, twinges of movement squeezing in on her host. "That's barmy, everybody loves Tracer! Come on, you're not even a little excited to get to play with all this?"

Unbidden, her hand rose up and groped a handful of boob. The suit, being designed for 'fun' rather than realism, sent a wave of pleasure into the host body it was attached to. In spite of her reluctance, the girl sealed inside gave an involuntary gasp to the stimulation.

"Gahhh!" she hissed. "Fffffffuck!"

"Oi, easy with the language... you're gonna be speaking with my voice, got it? Say anything inappropriate and I might have to take it away again... Anyway, you think that's good, wait 'till ya find out what else I've got!"

Fingers spider-crept their way down, over her abdomen, closing in on the tingling that lingered between her legs ever since the suit had sealed itself on top. Tracer was barely even close before sparks flew, the mere touch of the surrounding skin enough to elicit a reaction.

"Ohh!"

"See now, I can make things entertaining for ya... and trust me, I know how to use my fingers, wink!"

Snapping her hand away, her host was left breathy and hot to the touch.

"But! You have to behave. We'll do some dressing up, some poses and photos together, and then maybe I'll think about rewarding you. Understand?"

Humiliated, she finally gave in to Lena's unusually commanding tone. The tiny taste of pleasure she'd experienced already had put a dent in her dislike for the hero she now had to wear... maybe it wouldn't be so bad, playing Tracer for a little while. Too ashamed to admit it out loud, she just gave a feeble nod.

"Good girl. Now, let's start with that catch-phrase of mine..."