Spences

I like swaps

[manswaps]

Beach Day Pt. 1

It was another day on the shore, and you were changing in the public locker room before heading out to enjoy the sun. Today was a special day—Brock was working his lifeguard shift, and you needed to catch him before he strutted out to the chair.

It came in the mail yesterday, a small trinket but a laser gun that supposedly allowed two people to switch bodies. You had found it at a mystic’s online shop last week, and after poking around some reviews decided that it was worth a shot. The website had said to be careful, however. It required precise aim, and you couldn’t use it more than twice before the hardware inside burned out. Enough for a day as Brock, and then a swap back, you thought.

From the corner of your eye, you see Brock enter the locker room. He is well built, with blonde floppy hair and shadow of a beard. One of the handsomest guys in town, you knew a day in that speedo-clad body would be all you need. You stare at him as he pulled his shirt off, the blonde-brown hair of his treasure trail catches your eye. With quick movements, he faces away and slips off his clothes to change into his lifeguard speedo. There are a few other men in the room, and he was used to changing his clothes quickly and shamelessly in public.

You pull the laser out of your bag, click it on, and turn back around to see him walking towards one of the showers. Chasing him down, you round the corner and see a flash of his blond head duck into one of the curtained stalls. You aim quickly and shoot, already rock-hard at the thought of enjoying your first few seconds in his body in the steamy locker room shower.

In a flash, you are standing in the stall. Your larger hands grab for a bottle of body wash and you marvel at them. Brock’s knuckles are…surprisingly hairy. So are his arms it seemed. You reach up and felt your face, expecting to feel that strong bone structure under your fingers. Instead, as you reach up, your fingers tangled in…a beard.

A beard? Brock didn’t have a beard…

“Fuck yes!” You hear your own voice scream outside the stall. Your stomach twists as you realize you aimed the laser at the wrong person. Rushing out of the stall, you see your own body at the end of the hallway with a smirk on its face. It was staring at the mirror, massaging your smooth chest.

“Hey—hey! Stop that!” You yell. You’re surprised by your new voice. It’s so gravelly…you look across the room at the mirror and see yourself.

You’re not Brock at all. Staring back at you is a middle-aged speedo-clad man. His friendly blue eyes reflect shock. Thick blond hair covers his entire body like a carpet. Not in the best shape, your fingers fumble as you touch the forest of hair that covers your new chest. A bushy blonde beard adorns your face.

Your new eyes reflect horror, but something else stirs in you. This man is huge. Compared to your own body, this one is so much more virile. You’re…horny. So fucking horny. It’s like this body hasn’t been jacked off in years—a thick bulge pushes painfully against the speedo. You see your old body fondling itself more and walk over. “Hands off! Give me that laser!” You shout.

“What, this?” Your body grins. “You did this? I have to thank you I haven’t felt this great in years. I feel free.” He reaches over and tugs at your beard playfully. “Yeah, looks like you’re loving my old body huh? Couldn’t ever get that thing to behave. Felt like I was cursed.” You blush as you stare at the massive erection you’re sporting.

He reaches forward and cups it, stroking it through the nylon fabric. With his other hand, he brushes it through the thick forest of hair on your new chest. Your huge frame shudders at his touch. “Yeah you like that, old man?” He grunts. He tweaks a nipple and you grunt unexpectedly. “Yeah I always liked that…”

“Give me that,” you mutter and break away. Just as you do, Brock exits the shower. He looks at you exasperated.

“Uncle Patrick, let’s go, I’m going to be late. What—what are you wearing?! Are you trying to embarrass me? You’ve always been such a perv.”

You stare at his chiseled body. Uncle Patrick? He seems to recognize you, despite being in a stranger’s body. That’s when you realize—you’re in the body of his uncle! Before you can reach for the laser, Uncle Patrick grabs it himself and shoots it at Brock. A bright flash fills the room and fades. You see Brock standing there like he was a moment ago, but with a confused expression. He reaches up and feels his face, then turns his attention downwards to his chiseled abs.

“What the fuck?” Your old body says. “What did you do?”

In horror you realize that Uncle Patrick has used the last swap to switch bodies with Brock, leaving you trapped in his body.

Uncle Patrick grins, patting his new muscles playfully. He walks towards the mirrors and stares into one, his eyes full of lust. In one swift motion, he lifts a bicep and flexes. The muscle reacts immediately, like a football resting on his arm. With a laugh he lifts both his arms higher, exposing thatches of thick blond underarm hair and inhales deeply. He turns to both of you, still exposing Brock’s manly pits. “Damn, boy. Looks like I need a shower.”

Your old body stands there, shaking with rage. “St-stop that. What’s going on?” He turns to you with wide eyes. “Uncle Patrick who is that? Why am I in his body?”

You try to explain, but Uncle Patrick cuts you off. “That’s not your uncle boy. I am. Seems like this guy took a liking to you, wanted a chance to be you. Turns out he switched bodies with me instead. Now I’m Brock, and he’s me. And you…you’re that twink.” He pulls down the front of his speedo and a fat cock flops out of it, semi-hard. “Fuck, boy. You’ve been holding out. Can’t wait to test this thing out.”

You grab the laser out of Brock’s hands and stare at it. Just as you thought, the number of charges was depleted to 0.

Brock looks at himself in the mirror, in awe of the shrimpy body he now possessed. He brushes a hand through the mousy brown curls that used to be yours and tries to form a bicep by flexing his own arm. A loud sigh escapes his lips seeing the results. Still, he brushes a finger through the soft hair in his armpit. It’s more delicate than his own. He pulls up his shirt, staring at the pale, lean body he now possessed. Your body wasn’t a terrible one, and right now you miss it dearly.

Despite the confusion, Uncle Patrick’s body was still horned up. You stare again at the friendly face in the mirror and feel up your beard. It felt so foreign to twist the hair in your hands, but the more you tugged at it the better it felt. Uncle Patrick’s body was…manly…primal. You’re overcome with ecstasy and play with his hard nipples in front of the other two. This body was such a change from your old one and you can’t help but explore. You excuse yourself to one of the stalls and sit down on the lid of the toilet. Pulling down the front of your own speedo, a gigantic cock springs out amidst a nest of blonde hair. “Fuck, old man.”

Uncle Patrick stands in the open of the locker room, feeling up Brock’s body. Brock soon excuses himself, unable to stare at his horny uncle explore his old body.

An entire day at the beach, and three men in foreign bodies. Who knows what Uncle Patrick came to the beach to do, who he was planning to meet…What will happen next?

[nonotnolan]

Time to Waste

There wasn't much to do in Suburbia over the summer, especially if you were as unpopular as I was. Sure, I'd managed to collect several friends in college, but unfortunately we all lived in different cities. I wasn't lucky enough to be able to afford an apartment over the summer, which meant I was stuck back home. Discord helped counter some of the loneliness, sure, but it was the glacial pace of the weekday afternoons that was slowly driving me to boredom. So when I heard the doorbell, of course I thought it was some door to door salesman or something.

Instead, it was Dale-- the next door neighbor who used to be one of my closest friends... until he abandoned me in High School once the Football team offered him an "in" with the cool kids. "Can I come in?" he asked, scuffing his foot on the cement porch. I glared at him, trying to figure out just how much audacity he must have to be here after he made four of the past five years of my life a living hell.

"Alright, look," he said, staring intently at the door. It was uncharacteristically awkward of him, and it was throwing me off guard. "I know I was an asshole, and you're not obligated to forgive me. But I... look, one year in college was enough to show me just how unfair I was to you, and I... was hoping you'd allow me to make it up to you somehow? So that we can be friends again?" He looked into my eyes, and I could almost swear they were starting to water.

But how could it ever be enough? I scowled, crossing my arms as I glared at him. "So the rumors were true. You were outed as a gay man, and now everyone's abandoned you." I expected him to deflect, to get mad, to-- to do something!... but instead he just stared at the ground. I had gone too far. "Okay, yes. I feel bad for you, I do, but... do you have any idea how much hurt you caused me? That doesn't all go away just because you've also been hurt. Just what do you think you could offer that would make me forgive you?"

He tapped the side of his neck, just under his ear. "You've got a Swapper unit, right? How about I give you access to my body, no strings attached?" He flashed me a suave grin and he flexed his bicep. No wonder he showed up at my door without wearing a shirt, he wanted to make sure I'd noticed all of the muscle he'd gained over the past few years. "And not just for tonight," he added. "Neither of us have a job over the summer, right? You can wear my body to all of the local parties I've been invited to-- hell, you can score some pussy in my body, I don't mind."

I hated to admit it, but I was definitely intrigued by his offer. My v-card was practically burning a hole in my pocket, and being inside of Dale's sexy body instead of my thin, gangly frame would make that so much easier to deal with. I gestured him inside, and he flopped down on the living room couch just like old times. "I... okay, obviously I'm interested, but... what's in it for you?"

"Well, for starters, I'd get one of my close friends back," he said, smiling at me. "But also... you were right, I got outed. A lot of people are trying to freeze me out ever since I got caught in the locker rooms with Jeff. But no one has any proof, and the person who caught us is kind of an asshole. So I figure, if people see my body hooking up with women, maybe this whole thing will blow over. I'm not exactly excited to go back into the closet, but... locker room talk, you know how it is." He paused for a few moments, glancing over at me. "Well, you don't, but trust me. Everyone loves getting their dick sucked by some twink on the downlow, but when it's a teammate sucking dick, suddenly that's a big deal."

He must have seen the concerned look on my face, because he started to panic again. "Not that I'd be sucking dick in your body," he added, wringing his hands. "I wouldn't be any having sex in your body if you're not cool with it, that's disrespectful. I'd just spend the evenings in my room, playing video games. Promise. And I... if you want, I could also take your body to the gym, build up some muscle for you?" He looked truly desperate, and I had to admit I was starting to feel bad for the guy. The two of us, sitting here like this... it reminded me of all of the good times we used to have.

"Alright, I accept," I said, letting out a deep sigh. I wanted to stay angry, but seeing him in front of me, begging this hard... I didn't have it in me to reject him to his face. He reached out to shake my hand, but I stopped short. "I'm restating the terms. No sex or alcohol in my body, but I can have sex and alcohol in your body. You're cool with it, but I'm not. And no limits to how many parties I can attend in your body-- you can only deny me a body swap if you've got a family thing planned. Break either of those terms, and you're dead to me."

"Scout's honor," he said, offering his hand again. I shook his hand, and he wrapped me in a quick bro hug just like old times. "You wanna swap right now? Mike's throwing a party later tonight, and I promised I'd be there. Maybe later we can catch up, play some League or something, but I figured for your first party, you'd want time to prepare." I couldn't help but laugh. Even after all this time, he knows me so well.

And that's how I found myself standing in the middle of Dale's room, checking out his body in the mirror and sporting a half-chub at how good I looked. I should probably be happy to have one of my childhood friends back, but... to be honest, I was mostly just daydreaming about all of the sex I was going to have in his body this summer. I've seen his Instagram selfies, I'm fully aware of what I'm getting out of this trade. I'm not about to let any of that time go to waste.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Dale, why did you swap with him? That body looks like ass." My boyfriend had invited me over to his place like always, but I had kept most of my afternoon a secret. I warned Jeff that I was probably going to be wearing my neighbor's body for most of the summer, and that was all that I told him in advance. "You told me this was a good surprise. Nothing about your neighbor's body is good."

I just rolled my eyes at him. I loved him, but Jeff could be so shallow sometimes. Here I was trying to give him sexy fun times, only he couldn't get past my borrowed face. "Look, not every guy can be as hot as I am, alright? It's still me inside of here. And don't forget that I wouldn't have to resort to lending my body out to my lame-ass neighbor if someone could take a cock up the butt without screaming his head off. Besides, you haven't seen what I'm packing." I dropped my boxers to the floor and kicked them aside, letting my new nine-inch coke can do the talking. He was struck speechless, and I took advantage of that rare moment to lay seductively across his bed. "I trust this body has your approval now?"

"Holy shit, yes!" Jeff climbed onto the bed next to me without taking his eyes off of my erection. "This dork is packing all of that?" he asked, practically drooling at the sight of it.

I gave it a few tugs, letting some precum build up at the tip. "I told you it was a good surprise. I've known he was packing a big one ever since we were in Middle School, but I never thought I would get a chance to enjoy it like this. Anyway-- I had to pretend that I wouldn't be having sex in his body, so I can't really do anything other than top."

"Fine by me," Jeff said, pulling lube out of the drawer in his nightstand. "I'll go back to being verse when you're back in your own body. If I've only got the summer months to enjoy this massive cock, I'm not about to let any of that time go to waste."

[permanent-swaps]

Cognitive Body Therapy

I adjusted my glasses and leaned back in my office chair, the glow of my monitor lighting up my face. It was our twelfth session. Sohil’s video feed filled most of the screen. He was shirtless again, sitting in his gaming chair in is room, one thick arm draped lazily over the backrest. His dark chest hair was still slightly damp, like he’d just come back from the gym.

Sohil Kapoor. Thirty-two. Bisexual. Sex addict.

At least that’s what he called himself.

“Evening, Dr. Reddin,” he said with that familiar half-smirk. His voice had that deep, easy confidence that always carried a hint of mischief.

“Hello, Sohil,” I replied calmly, keeping my tone professional. “How have things been since our last session?”

He let out a tired laugh and ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Same old shit. Made it nine days this time with this guy I really liked… then I fucked his best friend in the parking lot after drinks.” He shook his head. “I’m starting to think there’s something actually broken in me. Like physically. Other people can control themselves. I can’t. Its like my dick has its own fucking brain.”

I nodded, listening carefully. I’d heard variations of this from him for months now. His friends had pushed him into therapy after yet another destroyed relationship. He was charming, successful, and objectively very attractive — which only made the pattern more destructive.

“We’ve discussed open relationships,” I said. “You mentioned your last attempt didn’t go well.”

“Yeah, because even with permission I still broke every rule. Especially the condom one. I need to feel it raw. The second there’s latex I lose half the sensation and it just… doesn’t do it for me.” He sighed heavily.

I paused, tapping my pen against my notepad. We had made some progress, but it was slow. Too slow. I knew it was time to suggest something more radical.

“Sohil,” I said carefully, “I’d like to propose an unconventional treatment option. One I only use in really rare cases.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the camera. “What is it?”

I met his eyes through the screen.

“Body swapping. A temporary therapeutic exchange. I would enter your body, and you would enter mine. It would allow me to experience your impulses and urges directly. To understand the intensity of what you’re dealing with from the inside. That level of insight could help me develop far more effective strategies for managing your compulsions.”

Sohil stared at me for a long moment, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re… serious?”

“Very,” I said. “It’s not without risks, and it’s not something I suggest lightly. But after six months, I believe this may be what we need to make real progress.”

I watched his face carefully. There was surprise, hesitation… and something else.

He swallowed visibly.

“Ok… so when can we do it?”

---

The following week, we logged onto our scheduled Zoom session. Sohil appeared on my screen looking unusually tense, sitting in the same spot on his couch.

“How are you feeling about the swap? Are you ready?” I asked, keeping my voice steady and clinical.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? Nervous as hell. But also… kind of excited? I’ve been like this my whole adult life. If you can actually feel what it’s like in here,” he gestured to his own body, “maybe you’ll finally get it. Maybe you can help me fix it.”

We spent most of the session discussing boundaries, consent, and the temporary nature of the procedure. Toward the end, I walked him through the final steps.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

Sohil nodded. “Let’s do it.”

We both initiated the swap through the secure therapeutic portal. There was a bright flash across my screen, a dizzying rush, and then everything shifted.

When my vision cleared, I was no longer looking at my monitor from my office chair.

I was looking at it from Sohil’s couch.

A massive wave of heat crashed over me instantly. My — his — cock thickened rapidly in my pants, throbbing with urgent need. The intensity was staggering. My thoughts grew hazy as raw, aggressive horniness flooded my system. I gripped the edge of the couch, trying desperately to maintain professional composure.

On the screen, Sohil — now in my body — let out a long, relieved exhale. He adjusted my glasses and smiled softly.

“Wow… I can actually think,” he said, sounding lighter than I’d ever heard him. “No constant noise in my head. This is… peaceful.”

I forced a professional tone, even as my new cock continued to pulse insistently between my legs. “That’s… excellent, Sohil. So as I said, we’ll remain in these bodies for the next few weeks. This will give me time to fully understand your urges and begin implementing strategies while I’m in your body. We can get your physical routines and habits started on the right track.”

As I spoke, my eyes drifted down to the screen — to the slight cleavage visible in the blouse I had been wearing. God, is that really how he saw me every session? I made a mental note to dress far more modestly once we swapped back.

Sohil cleared his throat. “Dr. Reddin?”

I blinked, snapping back to attention. “Sorry. I lost my train of thought for a moment.” I continued explaining the plan, trying to sound composed, but the throbbing between my legs was becoming unbearable.

Under the table, my hand moved almost on its own. I unbuttoned Sohil’s pants, wrapped my fingers around his thick, hard cock, and started stroking slowly. The pleasure was overwhelming. I kept talking, voice slightly strained, while pumping faster, getting dangerously close to the edge.

“…and we’ll check in regularly to monitor progress,” I finished, barely holding it together.

“Sounds good,” Sohil said, nodding in my body.

I ended the call as quickly as possible.

The second the screen went black, I let out a shaky breath. Not even thirty seconds later, I came hard. Thick ropes of cum shot across the underside of the table as Sohil’s cock pulsed violently in my hand. My vision whited out for a moment from the intensity.

I sat there panting, staring at the mess I’d made.

Damn… this guy’s body was horny.

Sohil hadn’t been exaggerating at all.

---

Over the next couple of days, I tried to resist.

I really did.

But Sohil’s body had other plans.

The first morning I put on one of his tight black t-shirts. The fabric stretched across his broad chest and hugged his biceps perfectly. Just the feeling of the material clinging to my new arms as I moved sent a low throb through my cock. I had to sit down for a minute and breathe through it.

Later that afternoon I went for a walk. A light breeze picked up and rippled his loose tank top against my chest. The soft fabric dragged across my nipples and I instantly hardened in my shorts. I had to stop and pretend to tie my shoe just so I could adjust myself discreetly.

At the grocery store, a young woman in a slightly low-cut top reached for something on a high shelf. The way her breasts pressed together as she stretched made my mouth go dry. I stood there frozen for several seconds, staring, before I forced myself to look away. My cock was already half-hard in my sweatpants.

Then there was my neighbor — a tall, muscular guy who walked out shirtless to grab his mail. The sight of his defined chest and abs glistening in the sun made something primal surge through me. I stood at the window watching him longer than I should have, my hand unconsciously pressing against the growing bulge in my pants.

Every single time, no matter how minor the trigger, I ended up painfully hard.

And without fail, the moment I got home I went straight to Sohil’s bedroom. I’d strip down completely naked, climb onto his bed, and wrap my hand around his thick cock. I’d stroke myself furiously, sometimes for less than five minutes, before I came hard — thick loads splattering across my hairy stomach and chest.

Yesterday I made it through the entire day without touching myself until I got home. Today I only lasted until 2 PM before I was back in his room, pants around my ankles, jerking off like a man possessed while staring at myself in the full-length mirror.

This body was insatiable.

I thought going to the gym might help burn off some of the constant energy. But it just made everything worse.

The moment I walked into Sohil’s gym wearing one of his tank tops and shorts, I felt eyes on me. His body drew attention — broad shoulders, thick arms, the way his chest hair peeked out from the neckline. Every time I lifted weights, the pump in my biceps and pecs made my cock twitch. The burn in my muscles somehow translated straight into arousal.

By the third set of bench presses I was fully hard. I had to practically sprint to the locker room stalls. I locked myself in one, dropped my shorts, and jerked off furiously, biting my lip to stay quiet. I came in under two minutes, shooting against the stall door. Even after that, I was still half-hard.

Even then I couldn’t control myself. I started approaching people — a pretty woman doing squats in tight leggings, a muscular guy checking himself out in the mirror. I was way too forward. Told the woman she had an incredible ass and asked if she wanted to grab a smoothie after her workout. Told the guy his arms looked strong and offered to spot him… then immediately suggested we spot each other somewhere more private. Both of them gave me polite but very clear rejections.

I stood there in the middle of the gym, Sohil’s face flushed with embarrassment and lingering arousal, realizing how desperate I must have looked. This body didn’t just want sex — it craved it constantly, and it had no filter.

---

By day six, I was losing the battle.

After another humiliating rejection at the gym and two more desperate jerk-off sessions at home, I gave in and downloaded Grindr on Sohil’s phone.

The app opened and immediately flooded the screen with nearby profiles. Shirtless torsos, hard cocks, hungry stares. Within minutes the messages started pouring in.

“Damn dude you’re hot as fuck.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Hosting right now if you wanna come through.”

I told myself I was just researching. Just trying to understand the scale of his compulsions. But my cock was already rock hard as I scrolled through the endless stream of willing men.

There were so many. Hot guys. Fit guys. Hung guys. Some wanted to fuck me. Most wanted me to fuck them.

I started chatting with one guy — mid-20s, muscular, only two blocks away. Before I could talk myself out of it, I sent him a face pic and told him I could be there in ten minutes.

The moment I stepped into his apartment, any last shred of professional restraint vanished. He barely had the door closed before I had him pinned against the wall, kissing him hard. Within minutes I had him bent over his couch, fucking him raw and deep while he moaned loudly.

It felt incredible.

The power, the heat, the raw physical pleasure of pounding into someone with Sohil’s thick cock — it was overwhelming. I came hard inside him, groaning as I filled him up. He asked if I wanted to go again. I did.

I ended up staying for almost two hours.

When I finally left, legs shaky, I felt a strange mix of shame and satisfaction. On the walk home my cock was already stirring again at the memory.

That night I opened Grindr again.

---

After a few days of nonstop Grindr hookups — sometimes two or three different guys in a single day — the novelty started to wear off. The sex was good, intense even, but something was missing.

I needed pussy.

Tinder proved much slower and more frustrating. The matches came in, but the back-and-forth flirting took time I didn’t want to waste. My patience was nonexistent in this body.

I knew it was a terrible idea. Unethical. A complete violation of every professional boundary. But the urge was louder than reason.

I opened the camera on Sohil’s phone and took a series of thirst traps — shirtless in the mirror, flexing his biceps, one with his hand pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants just enough to show the thick base of his cock. I sent them to my own number.

The message I typed made my stomach twist even as I hit send:

“I know you want to get fucked by yourself. I just know you want to feel your old cock deep in that pussy.”

I stared at the sent messages, heart racing.

Three dots appeared, then stopped. Then appeared again.

Before he could reply, the images and words hit me like gasoline on a fire. I was so turned on I couldn’t wait. I shoved my pants down, wrapped my hand around Sohil’s throbbing cock, and jerked off furiously on the couch to the fantasy of fucking my own body. I came hard within minutes, groaning loudly as thick ropes of cum splattered across my hairy chest.

The second the orgasm faded, cold reality crashed down on me.

What the hell did I just do?

I quickly sent a string of apologetic messages:

“I’m so sorry. That was completely inappropriate.” “I lost control. That was unprofessional and wrong.” “Please forgive me.”

Sohil (in my body) replied a few minutes later:

“No worries doc lol. I understand exactly what that feeling is like. Trust me.”

I let out a shaky breath, still half-hard despite just cumming.

“I’m going to figure this out,” I typed back, trying to sound more in control than I felt. “I’m going to find a real way to help you manage these urges. I promise.”

I set the phone down and looked at myself in the mirror — Sohil’s muscular, hairy body staring back at me, cum still drying on my abs.

---

I tried to resist.

I really, really tried.

I deleted Grindr twice. I went to the gym and forced myself to focus only on lifting. I tried meditation apps, cold showers, even jerking off six times in one day just to take the edge off. Nothing worked. The horniness always came back stronger, like a constant buzzing under my skin that refused to be ignored.

One night, I put on one of Sohil’s tight black shirts and a pair of fitted jeans and went to a gay bar downtown. The place was packed and loud. Within twenty minutes I locked eyes with a cute, twinky guy in his mid-twenties with messy light brown hair, smooth skin, and a hungry look in his eyes. He was exactly my type.

We barely spoke.

I walked straight up to him, grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him in for a rough kiss. He melted against me immediately. No names. No small talk. I took his hand and led him straight to the bathroom.

The moment the stall door locked, I spun him around, yanked his pants down, and shoved him forward against the wall. I pulled my own cock out, barely taking time to spit on it before I pushed inside him.

“Fuck…” he moaned loudly as I sank in deep.

I started thrusting hard, one hand gripping his hip, the other braced against the stall wall. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the small space.

“Sohil… fuck, Sohil,” he gasped, moaning my — Sohil’s — name.

A dark thrill shot through me.

“Fuck yeah,” I growled, pounding into him harder.

“Sohil… oh my god—”

Hearing him moan while I was balls-deep inside him made something primal take over. I fucked him with long, powerful strokes, gripping his waist tight as I drove into him again and again.

I didn’t last long. The way his tight hole clenched around my thick cock — it was too much. I buried myself deep and came hard, groaning as I filled him up.

I was still catching my breath, cock softening inside him, when reality started to crash back in.

The guy I had just raw-fucked in a public bathroom stall was Drew — one of my other therapy clients. Mid-twenties, gender-questioning, sweet but anxious. I had been seeing him for months. I had been too horny to even recognize him until now.

Then it hit me.

He had been moaning “Sohil” the entire time.

I never told him my — Sohil’s — name.

I pulled out slowly, heart pounding for a completely different reason now.

“Do we… know each other?” I asked, voice rough.

The guy — Drew — turned around with a lazy, satisfied grin that looked completely out of place on his face. He looked me up and down, eyes lingering on Sohil’s cock.

“I think I would recognize my own former body,” he said casually. “And damn… its dick feels good. I get why people put up with me even though I was such a cheater.”

I froze.

“Wait… Sohil?”

He smirked. “Hey, Doc.”

I stared at him — at my client’s body — in complete disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing in Drew’s body?”

Sohil (in Drew’s smaller, twinky frame) shrugged, still breathing hard from getting fucked.

“Drew’s been seeing you too, right? He’s been talking about wanting to transition for a while. Really wanted a woman’s body to start figuring shit out. So I offered him a swap. He gets your body — soft, feminine. I get his cute little gay body with way less constant horniness. Win-win.”

He reached down and gave Sohil’s cock — my current cock — a playful squeeze, still slick from being inside him.

“I’ve been having a great time, honestly. This body is so much easier to manage. I can actually think straight. I could get used to this. Could maybe even see myself getting into a relationship. Meanwhile, you’ve been living my old life…” He raised an eyebrow. “How’s that been going for you, Doc?”

I stood there, pants still open, cum slowly leaking down Drew’s thigh, trying to process everything.

Sohil in Drew’s body just smiled sweetly.

“By the way… you fuck really good in my body.”

My cock twitched and started hardening again almost immediately, still slick from being inside him. I was furious — at Sohil, at myself, at this entire situation — but the anger only seemed to make the arousal worse. The rational part of my brain was screaming that I needed to stop, to think clearly, to regain control.

But Sohil — or Drew, or whoever the hell he was right now — was right here. Convenient. Already bent over, his hole glistening with my cum, still slightly open and twitching.

I grabbed his hips and pushed back inside him in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck, Doc,” he moaned in Drew’s lighter voice, pushing back against me. “Round two already?”

I didn’t answer. I just started fucking him again, harder this time, my hips slapping against his ass. The wet, filthy sound of my cock sliding through my own load filled the stall. Every thrust felt better than the last. My mind was fogging over again, thoughts becoming slippery and unfocused.

We could switch it all back… if only…

I tried to hold onto the thought, but it kept sliding away.

If only… what was I trying to do again?

The question dissolved as pleasure took over. I gripped his waist tighter and pounded into him, grunting with each deep stroke. Sohil in Drew’s body moaned loudly, clearly loving every second.

“God, you really can’t control it, can you?” he gasped between thrusts, sounding amused. “Feels good though, doesn’t it?”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to pull out and walk away. But instead I fucked him even harder, chasing that building pressure again, my balls tightening as I got closer to another orgasm.

[peepshow321]

Attorney-Client Privilege

Driving up to the state penitentiary was not how I planned on spending my Saturday afternoon, but my boss Mr Daniels dropped the case on my desk last thing Friday. He told me that he was getting pressure from the DA to drop the appeal and that my job was to meet our client in person to break the news that he was likely going to be spending the next ten years in a cell. More than ten years if he kept up his rash, violent behaviour in prison.

Mr Daniels had given me a vague warning about Ramon Hernandez beforehand - quick to anger, easily confused, and in dire need of a wash. Meeting him face-to-face, and shaking his greasy hand (we lawyers must always show courtesy after all) however, was a different story entirely.

“So who the fuck are you? Where’s Daniels” Ramon gruffly shouted as I entered the room.

Trying to stay professional, I responded “Mr Daniels has unfortunately been tied up with business. He has asked me to handle your case from now on.”

“Christ, you look barely outta law school.”

“I am a junior-level attorney yes, but I have worked on a number of cases” I replied coolly, glossing over the fact that this was my first criminal case. I’d only been in the role for a year and while I was enjoying it, it really did take over my life. My parents keep commenting on how much weight I had lost and that I was spending too much time indoors. My slight body, coiffed hair and perfect suit all looked out of place in this dark, dank prison.

“So kid, when are you getting me outta this joint” Ramon grinned.

Anxiously, and anticipating an angry response, I calmly stated “Well Mr Hernandez I’m sorry to report that we have withdrawn your appeal. Mr Daniels and I decided that the chances of it being successful were slim to none, and frankly it is both a waste of our time and your money”

“Is that fucking so?” Ramon glared down at me. I was happy the guards were just outside. “Plan B it is then.”

“I’m sorry, Plan B?”

“You’re not exactly what I was hoping for, but you’re young. Plenty to work with. And you’ll be in a well-payed job right? You’ll have to fucking do.” Ramon was eyeing me up, and looked at deep in thought as possible for someone of his limited brain capacity. 

He’s clearly lost his mind upon hearing the bad news I thought. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible; the stretch from Ramon and his dirty prison jumpsuit was getting a bit overwhelming. “Mr Hernandez I’m not sure what my salary has to do with your case, but if you’ll sign these papers confirming that my firm no longer represents you then I will be on my way.” I walked over to the desk and placed the documents and a pen down when Ramon grabbed my hands and stared manically into my eyes.

“Guards! Help. Get off me!!” I cried.

Ramon, unblinking, grinned darkly. “Those guards are on my payroll and they’ll only enter when I say so.” He grabbed an alluring rock from his pocket and, still staring me down, said “here we fucking go” as he placed the rock to my chest.

_______

I felt the cool tile on my body and the back of my head, which was throbbing like crazy. I breathed in and out, trying to grasp what had happened, and felt so… large. Like I took up more space. And my clothes felt weirdly loose and itchy, nothing like the expensive suit I came in. “What the fuck is going on” I gruffly muttered, shocked both by the deep, accented timber that reverberated from my throat and the unexpected expletive. “What the fuck did you do?!” I felt a deep and surprising anger.

I sat up, my body feeling heavy and cumbersome, and stared at my hands. My new hands. Dark and sinewy, with thick fingers and dirty nails. Hands that connected to broad, hairy forearms partially hidden under a crusted, dirty jumpsuit. “No, no, no… what is fucking happening?!”

I uneasily jumped up, thrown by my new vantage point, and ran over to a mirror and stared in the brown eyes of Ramon Hernandez, convicted criminal. My eyes. My body. My 6′ 4, 200-odd lb body, radiating power. I rubbed my now bald scalp and traced my new, muscular body. Despite myself, I felt a rise in my jumpsuit and was shocked by the obscene throbbing tool that emerged.

“I am going to miss that body, but there is definitely room for some improvement here” a familiar voice uttered. I spun around and gazed at myself. Or my old body. Looking calm and composed, getting comfortable in my old suit. I tried to vocalise my thoughts, to shout and to get answers but my head was muddled. Thoughts weren’t coming to me as quickly as usual, and I was distracted by my still-hard package and sweaty stench.

“And this brain? It’s remarkable. I’m making connections infinitely quicker than before. You might find life’s challenges a bit harder to comprehend now amigo!” my old body laughed. “New memories should be following shortly. I’m almost looking forward to trying my hand as a lawyer.”

“You.. you can’t… fucking… what did you do” I stammered. I tried to grasp onto fragments of my old life - my Ivy League education and prestigious legal career, but they kept fluttering away. The signs and posters in the room became difficult to read and my brain just felt… slow. I was left with vague memories of a broken life filled with violence and crime and a dawning realisation of where I was. “You fucker. You can’t leave me here!”

“Actually, I can. Guards, Mr Hernandez and I are done. I do wish you the best. If you want my advice, I’d keep that anger in check. And for goodness sake, have a wash Ramon.” My body winked at me and sauntered out the room.

I felt a deep and uncharacteristic rage wash over me and without warning I punched the mirror, splintering my new reflection. The guards, my supposed protection, ran in and grabbed me as I shouted “no, you fuckers. I’m not Ramon. He’s getting away!”

_________

They threw me in solitary confinement to stew. I kept looking at my new, muscular hands and caressing my sizeable body under the jumpsuit. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. I unzipped the jumpsuit, exposing my new arms and chest. Running my thick fingers threw my sweaty chest hair, I reached down to rub my new cock. Excitement got the better of me and within seconds I creamed over my chest and gleefully rubbed it in. Blissfully, I lay in solitary confinement, memories of old life still there but drowned out by constant horny thoughts. I remembered Ramon’s… my crew on the inside who I would be with again in a few days. If I’m going to be stuck here, me and my boys are going to take over the joint. 

[peepshow321]

Going back through my old stories - enjoy!

[swappersworld2]

Becoming My Classmates Brother

My classmate Enzo Ceja was so hot, everyone on our class thought so. He was everything you would expect, he played football, basket ball, and was so attractive. He was 6’3, Mexican, and had a pretty toned body. Me being one of the only gay boys in my class, obviously had a crush on him, and everything about him. I knew he was straight, but I couldn’t get him out of my head.

So one day at my school during lunch I was talking to my friend about Enzo, and how I wanted to be his boyfriend. Little did I know, admitting this crush would completely change my life. The next day when I got to school, I could feel everyone staring at me, and I knew why. Someone over heard me telling my friend about my stupid crush on Enzo.

Enzo’s Perspective

I was leaving football practice when I over heard some of my bros talking about Dan, the one gay boy in my class. Had told someone that he had a crush on me. Ew. I could never date a man, but since rumor had spread around the school. People were shipping us. I had to talk to that boy, and clear this up, before I get clicked of the team. And I know just how to fix this.

Dans Perspective

As I walked into school, Enzo grabbed my head and pulled me into the locker room. As soon as he knew we were alone he started rambling on, about how he doesn’t even like the idea that a man likes him. Then he slapped me, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I felt different. I looked down, and saw legs that we’re definitely not mine, they were darker, and a lot more athletic then my fat, white legs. I got up fast and looked in the mirror.

I looked in the mirror, and instead of myself, I saw someone that looked like Enzo, but older. I was his older brother, I pulled out my id and on it was “Daniel Ceja” Which was definitely not my name before. Somehow I had turned into the older brother of the man I once liked. And I’m not complaining, if I couldn’t have him, being him was just as good, if not better.

“Hey bro get your keys! I’m going to be late for school!”

Obvious, I was Daniel Ceja, and Enzo is my younger brother. I have to give him a ride to school.

[lucaisonsns]

Birthday Wish #2

A week has passed since the body swap, and I’ve already gotten completely used to living as my uncle. Fuck… I think I’m falling in love with it.

‎At first, I was really bothered by this body’s strong, musky scent and how heavy and bulky it felt. But the moment I started lazing around exactly like I had always wished for on my birthday, everything changed. It felt so damn good. This fat cock would start twitching and getting hard every time I lift my arm and shove my nose into the thick, sweaty armpit hair. The stench is so strong, so manly… it drives me crazy.‎

I’ve become a total jerk-off addict in this body. I don’t want to return to my old life. I just want to stay here forever! getting lazier, eating nonstop, growing fatter, and burying my face in these stinky armpits while I stand in front of the mirror making the dumbest gooning face, drooling everywhere as I stroke this fat, heavy uncle cock for hours.

‎Look at me now… I’m getting fatter, smellier, and fuck… I look like I’m enjoying it so much, don’t I?

‎-------------------------------------------------------------

‎I can’t hold back from drawing him again. He’s so fucking sexy, damn😮‍💨

[bodythiefsblog]

Waiting for him is driving me insane. Why the fuck is he taking so long to come out of the gym? My crotch is throbbing, painfully trapped against the tight fabric of my shorts. I can’t hold back anymore. I need that man’s body.

Ever since I kissed someone for the first time, I’ve known about my power. I can take anyone’s body I want. Total control. The only way to be free is when I decide to leave—and that usually happens after I’ve jerked off so many times I get bored.

I reach down and squeeze my aching bulge, trying to adjust it. The leather seat of my motorcycle is hot from the sun, keeping my cock painfully hard. I glance around the empty parking lot, then slide my hand into my shorts, gripping my leaking dick. Soon I’ll be doing the same thing inside his body. God, he’s a real man—hairy, thick, masculine. All of that is about to become mine.

Footsteps approach. I yank my hand out fast. A second later, he’s right beside me. Sergio. My target. He joined the gym recently, but I noticed him from day one. The moment I saw him shirtless in the locker room, I knew I had to have him.

“Hey, Sergio. How’s it going?” I’d spent weeks building rapport, hoping it would make this smoother. “What did you train today?”

“Hey man, thought you’d already left,” he says, bumping fists with me like we’re bros. “Chest day. It was brutal.”

“I bet. Every time I hit chest I feel like I can’t even breathe,” I reply, instinctively touching my own pecs while my eyes devour his massive frame under the dim parking lot lights.

“You coming tomorrow?” he asks, swinging a leg over his motorcycle.

I can’t wait anymore.

“Yeah, but there’s one last thing I need to tell you.” He turns to look at me. I swallow hard, grab his tank top with both hands, and yank him into a brutal kiss.

He tries to shove me off—those huge arms nearly succeed—but I force my tongue deeper. Our mouths fight, tongues sliding wet and aggressive. He’s experienced, and that only makes me hungrier.

The familiar rush hits me. My consciousness rips free and floods into him through the kiss. I force every inch of his body to obey me, claiming muscle, bone, and cock. A few seconds later, I open my new eyes and stare at my old, empty body standing there like a discarded puppet.

I shove it aside gently and grin.

“Let’s see what you’ve got for me, big boy.” My voice—his voice—is deep and rough. I run my hands over my new chest, feeling how pumped and solid it is from the workout.

My palms slide down to my abs, then lower. I freeze for a second when I grab the fat, heavy cock straining in his shorts. It’s thick, veiny, and surrounded by a dense, dark bush of pubic hair.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, massaging my new balls. A low, masculine moan escapes my lips.

“What the fuck is happening?!” Sergio’s voice screams beside me. His ghostly form is standing right there, staring in horror as I grope his stolen body.

I smirk. “Jesus, man. You’ve been hiding a fucking monster in here.” I squeeze the thick shaft harder, not caring that he’s yelling at me.

He keeps screaming, demanding his body back. I ignore him. All I want is to get home and break this hairy beast in.

“Give me my body back, you freak!” he shouts.

I climb onto his motorcycle. “Bro, I’m not talking to you out here. People are gonna think I’m crazy talking to myself. And in case you haven’t noticed, only I can see you.”

“You’re just gonna leave your old body there?” he sneers. “It looks like a damn statue. People will ask questions.”

I wave a hand, putting my old shell on autopilot. It climbs onto my old bike and follows. Years of practice make it easy.

It took a little effort to find Sergio’s apartment—his constant bitching made accessing his memories annoying. I drop the gym bag by the door and head straight for the full-length mirror.

I don’t waste time. My hands roam over my new torso, squeezing the swollen, sensitive pecs. The pump from chest day still burns deliciously. I rip the tank top off.

Thick, dark hair covers my chest and stomach. I run my fingers through it, tugging lightly, my mind flooding with filthy thoughts.

“Stop touching me!” the real Sergio yells, forced to watch.

“Why? It’s my body now.” I shove the shorts and underwear down. His—my—cock springs out, heavy and already drooling precum. I grip it with both hands and moan like a whore.

Sergio moans too, involuntarily. The pleasure hits him as hard as it hits me.

“You like that, huh?” I laugh. “Too bad we’re stuck together. Every time I feel good, you feel it too.”

Panic flashes across his face. He knows I’m into men. And that knowledge makes my new cock throb even harder.

I tear the underwear completely off and start stroking. The shaft is fat, veined, and covered in dark hair at the base. I spit on it and jerk faster, staring at the reflection of this hairy, muscular bear.

The smell hits me—raw, masculine sweat from the gym. I lift one thick arm and bury my face in my pit, inhaling deeply. The musky, pungent scent makes my eyes roll back.

“Fuck, I stink,” I groan. Sergio is panting beside me, clearly fighting the pleasure he’s receiving from his own body.

I close my eyes and picture all the guys from the gym—tight shorts, sweaty bodies, some shirtless. Then I open them again and stare at the hairy beast in the mirror.

“Don’t think about guys—” Sergio begs.

“I control this body. I’ll think about whatever the fuck I want.” I close my eyes again and imagine bending over half the gym. “I’m gonna cum!”

Thick ropes of cum splatter across the mirror and onto my hairy abs. I scoop some up and lick it slowly off my fingers, savoring the salty taste while staring right at Sergio’s horrified face.

He’s still moaning, legs shaky.

I smirk, then grab my phone. One of Sergio’s gym buddies, a tall, muscular guy named Marco, had been texting him earlier. I reply quickly: “Come over. Need help with something.”

Twenty minutes later Marco knocks. He barely gets inside before I shove him against the wall and kiss him hard, my hairy chest pressing into his.

“The fuck, Sergio?” he mutters, surprised—but his hands are already grabbing my ass.

“Shut up and suck my cock,” I growl, pushing him to his knees.

Marco doesn’t need much convincing. He swallows my thick, hairy dick down to the base, gagging eagerly while the real Sergio watches in humiliated shock. I fuck Marco’s throat deep and rough, one hand gripping his hair, the other tugging on my own nipples.

“Take it all, you fucking slut,” I groan in Sergio’s deep voice.

When I finally cum, I flood Marco’s mouth and make him swallow every drop. Then I bend him over the couch and breed his tight ass raw, pounding him until he’s whimpering and shooting hands-free all over the floor.

The whole time, the real Sergio is forced to feel every brutal thrust, every pulse of pleasure.

After Marco leaves, spent and satisfied, I stand in front of the mirror again, cum still dripping down my hairy thighs.

I grin at my reflection and at the broken-looking spirit beside me.

“I hope you enjoyed your first time with a man, Sergio. Because I’m keeping this body for a long, long time.”

[malebodyswap45]

Identity

“You look tired Nick… you really are out of your game” One of my friends told me. They were telling the truth. I failed several shots and it seems that everyone could pass over me. I don’t remember when was the last time that I performed so poorly when playing a basketball game. The last couple of days I have been very tired, I blame the Keto diet. It’s truth that my muscles were more defined, but it was not worth it if that meant that my energy levels would be on the floor. “Nick, we are for some beers… wanna come?” another of the guys asked but I have to pass. I have a lot of things to do before the night arrives. I have planned this day for so long and I couldn’t wait to see their faces when they learned my decision.

I have been dating Lilia for a while and, today’s night, we are going to celebrate our third anniversary. She was my best friend and I would do anything for her. She complemented me in ways that I didn’t think it was possible. She was my all and I was ready to take the next step in our relationship. I bought that ring a couple of months ago. It has been hidden in my boxer’s drawer all this time and I am certain that Lily would never look for it on that place. My plan was to have a simple dinner. A nice steak, a glass of his favorite wine and several candles creating a romantic mood. It may be simple, but I am certain that she would love the intimacy of the moment.

Now, I need to go and buy all the food, but first I would take a quick shower. I grabbed my bag and looked for my cellphone. However, I noticed that something was off, it seems that I have a lot of Instagram notifications. It was weird as I haven’t used it in a while. I opened the application and saw that a photo of myself was recently uploaded. I looked at it, to be honest with you, I don’t even remember that I ever took this photo. It was probably an old one as I was wearing a bracelet that I lost a couple of months ago. I looked at the comments and many of my friends were calling me a traitor. I hated American Football, everybody knew that, but I was there holding a football with a big smile in my face.

The photo gave me weird vibes, but I didn’t think to much of it. I head to my house and immediately hit the showers. It was very refreshing, and I felt extremely excited for the things that would go down in this special day. I put a blue navy shirt and some jeans. Then I looked at myself in the mirror and try to style my hair the best that I could. I looked for my wallet, but I couldn’t find it. I try to recall where I have left it, but there was nowhere to be found. I could only laugh at my bad luck. It was destiny that in the most important day of my life, I would fall victim of Murphy’s law. Gladly, I have a couple of bucks hidden behind a book and I was certain that it would be more than enough to buy all the supplies. I grabbed the key car and hit the road. However, when I arrived at the supermarket, I noticed that I received several notifications on Facebook.

I opened the app and saw that many people were liking my recent post. That’s when I knew that someone has hacked my account. “I am ready to have a fresh start… my plans would be revealed soon to all of you” The text said. It was not funny, and it really angered me. The person that was hacking me knew about my plans of proposing to Lilia, that’s the only reason that he would write something like that. I don’t know what he was thinking, he could destroy my moment with her. I try to think who could have done this, but none of the people that I told would be so dumb to do something like this.

I thought that it was going to be easy to stop the hacker. I just needed to change my password. However, it seems that he thought really well his plan and he had already changed them. I could not block my account and that frustrated me a lot. I needed help and I knew that Chuck was my man to go. He was the savviest tech guy that I have ever meet. He was capable of doing anything and I considered him as the most valuable team member in the company that I worked. I knew that he would know how to proceed.  I dial his number, but to my surprise I didn’t have any signal. My cellphone line was death and I couldn’t believe that my day was getting worst by the moment.

I entered the supermarket and gathered quickly the ingredients for my meal. Gladly there was some wifi and I could see what my impostor was doing on the web. He was clearly enjoying his newfound power, as he had changed most of my profile pictures. I didn’t have a clue where he got all those old photos. Maybe he was some kind of stalker and that idea make me feel very anxious.  In Instagram, he put a photo of me when I was training at the gym; in LinkedIn, he uploaded a photo of me wearing a tuxedo and; in Facebook, he changed my pic to one of me hanging with my friends. That’s when I noticed something weird, all my friends were dressed up in their basketball gear. I appeared using a white tank top and black pants, the same that I was wearing during the morning game. Maybe I was thinking to much all of this, it was probably a coincidence, but it was definitely a weird one.

I needed to warn Lily of what was happening. I entered WhatsApp to quickly send her a message, but to my surprise the app was down. That hacker not only stole my social accounts, he also stole all my cellphone information. Right now, he could be able to send messages to Lily. That angered me a lot and I knew that I should head home as fast as possible. To my demise, there was a police car waiting for me outside the supermarket and I immediately knew that things were going to get weirder.

“Sir, this car has been reported as stolen” The policeman said

“That cannot be, it’s my car” I said

“Papers and license”

“Here are the papers… I lost my wallet, so I don’t have a license”

“Name?”

“Nick Rogerson”

“That’s funny, Nick Rogerson… A guy with that exact name told us that his car was stolen”

“That cannot be”

“Sir, put your hands on the car”

“You cannot be serious”

“Sir, put the hands on the car… I would tell you your rights”.

I couldn’t believe that I end up in the station. However, nothing prepared me to the moment that I made that phone call.

“Hello” She said after answering her phone.

“Lilia, it’s me”

“Who?”

“Nick… I am at the police station”

“Nick? What Nick?”

“What? Nick Rogerson, you don’t recognize my voice”

“Haha, that’s so funny. Who is this?”

“I am telling the truth Lily”

“Stop the joke, is not funny… I am certain that you are not Nick because he is right now playing to be a plumber”

“That cannot be”

“Well, I am looking at him right now…but I believe that we would need to call a real plumber”

“What?”

“So, who is this?”

I hang up the phone not knowing what to think about all this. I called my sister and waited for several hours until she was finally able to get me out from the station. The police officer told her that probably someone played a prank on me, but in my mind, I knew that something that should be impossible was happening. I asked for my sister’s cellphone and when I opened Instagram, I saw a photo of myself wearing a nice suit. He was in my home and the text read “Finally, its time to make history”. I couldn’t say a word, I couldn’t believe any of this. I have a doppelganger and I was fucked.

My house was completely empty. I don’t have an idea of where the couple went to celebrate their anniversary. I only watch their social media posts. I cried when I learned that she said yes. I was happy in a way because that meant that Lilia wanted to be with me, but I was also mad knowing that the impostor had stolen that moment from me. Sooner or later, the false Nick was going to need to return to my home. I would be waiting for him and I am certain that I would be able to beat the crap out of him.

I waited for several hours, I stayed all night on watch, and it was almost midday when he approached the main door.

“It cannot be” I said, holding a baseball bat with my hands.

“Look at you… don’t be shocked”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I am Nick Rogerson”

“No… I am the real Nick”

“Yeah, you are the real one… but not for too long”

“Don’t you dare to approach me” I said while raising the bat

“Nick, that are empty menaces… you cannot do anything to change what’s going to happen”

“You will not be able to fool anyone”

“But I have done this for months. I knew that I wanted your body the moment that you enter the office. I have transformed into you hundredth of times and not even your mother recognized that I wasn’t the real deal”.

“So. what changed? why are you reveling yourself”

“Because its time to make this hunky flesh my new permanent home”

“No”

“Don’t feel bad, you will not remember that you were the real Nick and I assure you that you will love to be the most valuable member of the team”

“Chuck”

“In the flesh, well… that is your new name”.

 ——————————

I was very confused when I wake up, I didn’t know how I ended up in Nick’s house. He served me a cup of coffee and he left me stay there all the time that I needed. I looked at him as he walked away. Nick Rogerson was the most confident man that I have ever meet. I really admired him, and I just wish to be more like him. To be honest with you, I would give anything to be the one walking in his shoes.

[transformhim]

A Love Triangle

“Who are you texting, babe?” Maddie asked her boyfriend, Tyler, with feigned innocence as he typed away on his device, keeping his phone turned away from her for whatever reason.

Maddie had been suspecting Tyler might have been cheating on her. He was always on his phone, he came back home from work later and later, and he just seemed generally distant. He hadn’t touched her in weeks, for god’s sake. She was sure he was texting whatever trollop he had been fucking all this time.

“Hm? Oh, uh, no one babe…” Tyler responded, not looking up from his phone. 

Every time he was busy on his phone, Maddie noticed that he would keep adjusting himself, both in his sitting position and in the meat between his legs. He was getting hard for another girl in front of her??

“Can I see?” Maddie asked as calmly and innocently as she could.

“Oh-uh, um, uhhh… no… why?”

“Well if it’s no one, can I see?”

Tyler still hadn’t turned his eyes away from his phone, “…….. what? Sorry, I tuned out.”

Maddie saw red. She sat there, quietly fuming and feeling like a ticking bomb. Quickly, she shot her arm over and snatched his phone away from his hands.

“Madison, what the fuck?!” he shouted as he tried to retrieve his phone from her. He always insisted on calling her by her full name, and in times like this it felt like a parent was scolding her. “Give it back! It’s nothing babe!”

She scrolled as quickly as she could, holding it away from his grasping hands. He was texting some tramp named Ashley. ‘Ashley,’ she thought to herself with revulsion and disgust, ‘some fucking stripper’s name.’ He was texting the most lurid things: ‘I’m so fucking horny for you right now,’ ‘I can’t wait to fuck you again,’ ‘Wait till my wife goes to bed and I’ll come over.’ This whore Ashley was responding similar things: ‘Just ditch that bitch and come over,’ ‘I need your thick dick in me,’ ‘God, I’m still sore from the other night.’

Maddie glared at Tyler, who realized that he had no way out of this. She shot up from her sitting position to grab her keys and purse, throwing the phone back at Tyler, and hissed, “If Ashley is who you want, then you can have her, you fucking pig!”

“Babe, wait, it’s not like that! Madison, please—!”

She slammed the door behind her and marched to her car, wiping tears as she went.

———

Sarah heard a knock at her door and immediately opened it, knowing it was her friend Maddie. She had called on the way over in hysterics and inconsolable. Her asshole boyfriend had finally ruined things for then. Sarah always wished Maddie would let her give it a shot at making her happy, but she was always only interested in asshole dudes like Tyler.

“I need it,” Maddie said without any greetings, pushing herself into Sarah’s apartment and throwing her stuff on her counter.

“Hey to you, too,” Sarah knew what she was referring to but wanted to play along, “Need what?”

“That… thing! That conjuring! Spell! Whatever! You said you could do it, and I’m looking to cash in!”

“Girl, just because your boyfriend is an asshole doesn’t mean—“

“You don’t get it! It’s so unfair! I’m at my wit’s end, Sarah!” she was fighting back tears at this point. “I love him, I love him so goddamn much it hurts, and I don’t know what I need to do to make him love me, too! I’ve done all I can do! I work out, I doll up for him, I cook, I clean… but if he wants some other body, fine, but he’s still gonna have me.”

Sarah thought for a moment. Maddie just never was going to give her a chance, would she? She sighed as she made her way to the book her grandmother passed down to her. As her hands landed on the book, an idea popped into her head… Yeeaaaah, this could work. These weren’t the types of spells she usually performed—hell, she’d never performed a spell like this—but Maddie was wonderful and hot and kind and it was a damn shame to see her waste herself on someone with as dull a personality and spirit as Tyler. Yeah, she could do this. She flipped to the right page and scanned a copy in her printer for Maddie, then brought the copy to her.

“Ok, as you asked,” Sarah responded with a defeated sigh. “But remember, this isn’t reversible, Maddie. I don’t want to see you commit to something too quickly.”

Maddie lept into Sarah to hug her, fighting back tears again, “Oh, Sarah, you’re such a good friend.”

Sarah shrugged and tried to stifled her racing heart and excitement her body felt embracing Maddie, “Remember, you need to enter your name and the name of the person you’re looking to inhabit ummm here, here, here, annnd… here.”

“Easy enough! I’ll contact you once I’m in that skank’s body,” Maddie continued with a laugh. “Ugh, I love you.”

Maddie left Sarah’s apartment and Sarah locked the door with a sigh. She started disrobing and made her way into her back room with her grandmother’s book.

———

After driving out of the city for some time, she pulled over to the side of the road and parked her car. She lit a cigarette, grabbed the piece of paper Sarah gave her, and started walking into the nearby woods. She came into a clearing and wiped her eyes. The moonlight gave her enough visibility to read the incantation on the page. She clumsily read through the words on the page and then waited. She dropped her cigarette and extinguished it. After some time, a wicked wind slowly kicked up in the clearing and developed into hurricane-strength. Maddie could barely keep standing, it felt like her body was being pulled and sucked by the wind around her. She panicked but remembered, Sarah wouldn’t give her anything that would harm her. In that moment she relaxed her body and let the spell run it’s course. Her body now relaxed, she began to involuntarily spin with the whipping wind, slowly at first, but gradually speeding to like a tornado, impossibly fast for any human body to withstand. Her body began lifting off the ground and elongating, swirling up with the otherworldly wind and forming a narrow, long, whipping, brightly glowing vortex that stretched up into the sky and shot off to the west, back towards the city, at lightning speed. As the otherworldly wind subsided in the clearing, Maddie’s clothes came lightly tumbling down from the sky, followed by the piece of paper with the incantation written on it.

———

Maddie, or at this point her essence, started barreling back down to the ground, seemingly headed straight for an apartment window. Upon entering the open window, Maddie was vaguely aware that she was in some kind of living room, but it didn’t look like a female’s living room, with clothes and boxers laying over furniture and empty glasses litering every surface. This wasn’t right, but she only had a split second to process the information as the vortex of her essence slingshot itself into another room.

The bathroom. A dude’s bathroom. The man was in the bathroom getting dressed, the humid heat from his shower fogging the bathroom mirror and making the room hazy. This wasn’t fucking right at all! Maddie panicked and tried to change directions, but her new form had a mind of its own. As the man was about to pull up his boxer briefs over his hard, round ass, the vortex plunged into his freshly douched hole. Freshly douched? Why freshly douched? Maddie hardly had time to think about it as she involuntarily invaded this man’s body, still panicking and feeling like Sarah had duped her. She filled up his every orifice, ever crevice and extremity, her essence experiencing for the first time the weight of a body as massive and muscled as this one, the strength in the arms and legs, the broad shape of the body, the insatiable libido, and—oh, fuck, the cock and balls. It felt as though her clit ballooned obscenely large and protruded from her body and her uterus came sliding out of her into a set of pendulous balls. His cock immediately grew erect and pressed against the fabric of the boxer briefs. His body moaned loudly and with a vibrato, as he began shaking uncontrollably, the whipping vortex continuing to get sucked into his ass. His body lifted itself up on its toes as the last of the vortex sucked into him with a satisfying *ffwoop!* He arched his neck and his back as his eyes rolled back into his heads, his body giving off a final vibrating pulse as literally all of his huge, athletic muscles tensed and bulged.

His eyes finally opened and he took one giant shaking gasp of air, “HHHHHHHHHHoooly Fuckin’ Shit…” he moaned in a deep baritone. Maddie lowered her head and looked down at her, or rather his, new body. She was… she was a fucking dude! This couldn’t be right, she did the spell exactly as Sarah told her to, and now she ends up in this bitch Ashley’s boyfriend’s body? What the fuck good will that do? Tyler would never go for this tramp’s boyfriend—although Maddie wouldn’t necessarily mind letting Tyler plow her still… Maddie paused for a moment. Huh, she was still attracted to Tyler, even in this body. She was sure the biology of this body wouldn’t allow her be attracted to Tyler, but… and holy shit, speaking of biology, her new body was really responding to the idea of Tyler plowing her. She felt her new dick pressing hard, almost uncomfortably hard, against the fabric of the briefs. She pulled the elastic waist of the briefs away from her and gasped.

Holy shit, she was massive. His cock swung away from the briefs and pointed in front of him, glistening with pre from Maddie’s spectral entrance. He gingerly wrapped a hand around his slick rod and slowly pumped once up and down. He threw his head back in a shuddering exhale, imagining Tyler wrapping his lips around his cock. The unfamiliar but orgasmic new sensations, combined with her fantasy about Tyler, Maddies was almost sent over the edge.

Ok, hold on, this was fucking weird. Why did she almost nut in this body at the thought of Tyler sucking her cock? She needed to get to the bottom of this. She stuffed her hard dick into the briefs and pulled the back of the briefs over his round, fuckable, muscular ass, and went back into the living room, his huge boner jiggling with every step.

She panned the filthy room for any sign of identification. Her eyes landed on a wallet on the table near the front door. She flipped open the brown leather trifold and spotted an ID bearing the face of the new body she occupied. She looked closely and his chiseled jaw dropped.

‘Ashley R. Henderson,’ the name on the ID read.

Ashley. Ash. Tyler had always insisted on calling her Madison instead of Maddie. Holy shit, this was Ashley!

He jumped as a sharp knock hit the door.

———

Tyler parked his truck at Ash’s apartment and cut the engine. He looked down at his phone and frowned. What a terrible goddamn night. He hated what he did to Madison, but his feelings for Ashley were stronger, he just never found the right time to bring it up. Terrible goddamn night… What he needed more than anything was someone to talk to and who would listen, and Ash was always great for that. Plus, he had the added benefit of being an expert cocksucker and power bottom. He shrugged and put his phone in his pocket and left the truck.

He made his way to Ashley’s door and prepared to knock, when suddenly a twisting vortex came firing down from the sky and towards his face. He heard it coming and looked up to scream, but he didn’t utter a sound as the vortex plunged into his mouth with a symphony of grunts and gurgles. His muscles tensed and bulged as his body seized up and shook while the vortex invaded his body. His cock began swelling in his black gym shorts as his body went through the most surreal experience it had ever been through. The last of the vortex entered his throat and he uttered small, involuntary choking sounds.

His body stopped convulsing and he brought his arms in front of him to check them out. “Not bad. Not fuckin’ bad at all…” Sarah remarked in Tyler’s deep, rich voice. Plus, he had taken his body all the way to Ashley’s door, how convenient! Before Sarah knocked on the door to the apartment, she took off Tyler’s white athletic shirt and surveyed her thick, hairy body. She flexed her new arms and bounced her hairy pecs. ‘Lucky me, Tyler always had a hot body,’ she thought. Hot body? She had never found Tyler attactive—she couldn’t, she only liked girls. Well, the biology of this new body argued otherwise, and she was completely turned on by her own impressive, hunky, hairy physique. Her new cock was throbbing in Tyler’s gym shorts.

‘Fuck it,’ she thought as she dropped the shorts, exposing Tyler’s nude body to the entire world. Turns out that Tyler prefers letting his bits hang free without underwear! It was late enough so no one saw his very public display, but it’s a shame they didn’t. Tyler was fuckin’ tight! She imagined fucking Maddie’s tight pussy with her thick, swinging, uncut cock and it swelled even larger at the thought. ‘Huh, turns out Tyler swings both ways,’ she thought. What luck! Sarah was still going to get to fuck Maddie in this bimbo “Ashley’s” body!

He bent over and collected his shorts off the ground and held them in the same hands as his shirt. He stroked his beard and stood in front of the door with broad-shouldered confidence, and gave three sharp knocks on the door.

———

Maddie opened the door in Ash’s body and dropped his jaw in disbelief, staring at Tyler who stood completely nude outside the doorway.

Sarah, in Tyler’s body, was shaken in his confidence for a second. She wasn’t at all expecting a man to answer the door. A hot man. A jacked man. A man who was sporting a huge hard-on in nothing but his briefs.

The two stared at each other for a moment, neither of them saying a word, but both of them completely turned on by what stood before them.

Sarah/Tyler broke the silence, “Ashley?”

A pleasurable shiver ran up Maddie/Ash’s spine. Tyler always did love calling people by their full names. “Yeah, babe?” she responded confidently, leaning against the doorframe.

Tyler looked down at the clothes in his hand and nonchalantly tossed them beside Ash and into the apartment. He gripped onto his hard cock and stroked it a little. “I’ve had a hard night, bro, and I could really use someone to lean on. Think you can help me out?” he asked with a sly smirk.

‘Fuck, Tyler has never been this kinky,’ Maddie/Ash thought. He returned the smirk and pulled his hard cock out of his briefs and tugged it, “Sure, dude, I think we can figure something out.”

They grinned at each other and Tyler stepped in to embrace Ash, their swords crossing and their thick, muscular arms wrapping around each other in passionate kisses. Ash gripped onto Tyler’s dick and knelt down, guiding it into his mouth, sending Tyler into orgasmic moans experiencing his cock being sucked for the first time.

Ash kept sucking like a pro and reached behind Tyler, who could bearly stand on his feet racked with ecstasy, to close the apartment door.

[verus-veritas]

Swapping Abilities

My Uncle Rob here was a homophobic, stuck-up asshole who loved to call me a faggot, pussy, or a wimp. He especially loved to rub in how less of a man I was compared to him. Like how I had no big muscles, hairy chest, or were as tall as him. Every time we met during our family reunions he would flex his thick hairy biceps in front of me and say things like:

“Betcha you wished you looked like this!” or “You’ll never get a real man like me…”

He was right though. I did wish I had a body like his, and it would be a lie to say that most of my wet dreams and fantasies were about him… Sometimes I would imagine waking up in bed next to him and nuzzle my face into his hairy chest and musky armpits, other times I would imagine myself actually being INSIDE his body. Walk around with his hairy thick legs, scratch my wonderfully bearded face, and rub his furry body till I shot his load all over the fur on his stomach. Those were just dreams though…

…Until my 18th birthday, when I finally received my family ability!

Apparently every member of my family received a special ability when they turned eighteen. Some were more powerful than others, and some only worked together with other abilities from our family. Like how my mom could make trees grow instantaneously, but only from mud and earth that my dad created.

Well, in my case I woke up on my birthday with a ringing headache and a voice inside my head telling my I had gained the ability of “Body Swapping”. I don’t know if the choice of abilities were influenced by the user’s desires, but it sure seemed like it for me. After all, I only had one thing in mind: to swap my body with my Uncle Rob’s.

And that’s exactly what I did. When my family gathered to celebrate my birthday, I waited with anticipation until Rob arrived. As usual, he arrived late in his pick-up truck which he would constantly gloat about how he had perfectly refurbished. The entire afternoon he spent his time talking to my other uncles, while I sat and pretended to play with my younger cousins. All the time though, I had my eyes glued to him, or well specifically - his sexy body.

It wasn’t until the end of the party that I watched him leave the crowd and went to the bathroom. That’s when I followed him. I waited outside the door of the restroom until I heard him flush, and stood right in front of him when he opened the door. He was surprised to see me, but then went back to his douchey way of talking to me with a smirk on his face.

“Hey lil’ nephew! How’s your birthday? Betcha you got a lot of pussy today, didn’t ya? Oh right, you don’t do that. Silly me. Anyways, means you got your ability now, am I right? What is it? Let me guess, you can summon butterflies or something.. no, scratch that. Small ugly bugs seems to fit you better.” He’d sneer at me. Talking to me without holding anything back.

But it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t, not after I activated my ability and swapped my body with him.

“You now what Uncle Rob, you might be a real man and have this amazingly hairy and big body, I’ll give you that. But you’re wrong in so many other ways. For example, how I’ll never get a real man and or look anything like you. Well, guess what? I’ll be getting myself a real man’s body and look exactly like you!” With that said I grabbed hold of his hairy rugged hands and clenched my eyes shut. I focused all my energy inside myself and felt it shot out of my chest and straight into Uncle Rob’s. A body can’t handle so much energy, so I felt it shoot out his energy and into my old skinny body.

When I opened my eyes again, everything felt so weird and different. My hands were so big and rugged, my arms so thick and hairy, and my face itched constantly. And then I caught it, that smell. Uncle Rob’s deep musky scent. It was oozing from every orifice of my new body, constantly surrounding me and drowning me in it. A few of the girls in my family would look at him in disgust whenever he walk by, but I would always turn my head towards him, hoping to catch the trail left behind by his deep scent. And now I was inside it, the very epicenter of it! I couldn’t help but reach my thick arm up and turn my head towards my armpit, almost pushing my face into it while inhaling deeply.

“Oh FUuUUuuuUUUUUckkkk…..” I moaned deeply with my uncle’s gruff voice. The scent, his scent, my scent, was strongest here, which left my absolutely speechless. I felt my uncle’s member in my pants instantly harden, and painfully being restrained by the jeans he had decided to wear today. My other hand found itself quickly reaching down and slipping inside of the jeans, wrapping its rugged textures around the hardened member. It was so huge, and so incredibly fat! I found myself squeezing it while groaning loudly.

Hearing another groan in front of me brought me back to my senses though. Uncle Rob was coming back to his senses, as he was rubbing his temples and wiping his eyes. I just realized the repercussions of this situation, of finding me inside his body, sniffing his smelly armpits and stroking his fat cock. He was going to kill me! Or worst, use his own ability on me!

You see, Uncle Rob here had the ability to completely “Lock” someone’s ability from being used against him. Though it did not have any real-life practical use, it did mean he was invincible in our family of super-powered beings. Hence why he is always so narcissistic and rude. No one could touch him. My mom’s plants would refuse to go near him, and my older cousin who could turn boulder’s into gravel with one punch couldn’t even put a scratch on him. That’s how strong his ability was! And if he decided to use it on me after we swapped back, then I’d never get to swap with him again! I’d lose access to this wonderfully hairy and musky body, and have to go back to always day-dreaming about it instead… never to touch it ever again…

No! I couldn’t live with that! This body was too amazing to lose! I had to stop my uncle from using his ability and locking my body swapping ability against him, no matter what! That’s when an thought came to me…

We had always speculated that the abilities had to do with the maturity of the body. Especially since the family member always had to turn eighteen before it “awakened”. If that really were the case then, that would also mean the abilities not only grew with the body… but stayed with the body as well…

In that case, that meant I now had Uncle Rob’s “Locking” ability, and not my own “Body Swapping” one. He was the one that could switch our bodies back and ruin all my fun. To take this body back and all its hairiness away from me! It made me panic! Fearing he would realize my ability, swap us back, and lock me out of ever using it on him again, I decided to take the initiative. I thought to myself: “if he got my ability, then maybe I got his! I can lock him from using the body swapping powers on me!” 

So, clenching my eyes shut, I imagined what using the “Locking” powers entitled, and focused hard on my former self. It took only a few seconds, until finally a sort of click sound echoed inside my head. I realized I had done it! I had permanently locked Uncle Rob from ever using my own ability against me again!

“Try switching our bodies back now, you asshole! I locked you out!” I happily said out loud to poke at him, as the fat cock in my pants pulsated slightly.

There was a look of sheer terror and confusion on my Uncle’s new face as he finally collected himself enough and looked up to see his own big burly body inhaling its musk and pawing at itself. A look that soon turned into one of fear and anxiety as he realized what I had just said.

“Y-you did what?! You know how my ability works!! Any ability I lock is permanent! Permanent, you hear?! Oh god, what have you done…” He shook his head devastatingly, as he began walking around me restlessly.

It wasn’t until after he said that I realized what that meant… I had trapped myself inside my Uncle Rob’s hairy, thick, mature body, possible for the rest of my life! We even had him try using the body swapping ability on me again, but he said the energy he sent out simply bounced of me. As if a barrier refused to let his energy invade me, or a shell prevented my energy from leaving this body. It was true. I was really stuck, in Uncle Rob’s furry body. Permanently!

Yet somehow… I didn’t mind. Sure, I lost about thirty years of my life, and I could no longer swap bodies with people. A brand new amazing ability I just received, traded away for my uncle’s mediocre one. But I gained Uncle Rob’s amazing body. His thick meaty muscles, his furry chest and stomach, his sexy bearded face, and most of all, his wonderfully deep musk. I wouldn’t trade any of it away, not now and not ever. I could just burrow my face into those lush armpits and let myself be swept away until oblivion.

And that’s exactly what I did. After the birthday party ended and I watched the rest of my family leave, I gave Uncle Rob in my former skinny body a big bear hug and reassured him everything would be fine. Then, starting his ole’ trusty pick-up truck, I drove for an hour or so until I arrived at the outskirts of a forest. Seeing that there was literally no people or cars around, I immediately tore off all my clothes and laid spread out with my hairy legs on top of the car front. Angling the rear mirror so it was facing down towards me, I looked into the mirror to see my entire upper self inside it.

With pride and joy that this body was all mine now, I began to feel and explore all that it had to give me. I hungrily lapped up every inch of my hairy armpits, squeezed my soft yet firm stomach adorned with fur, and finally wrapped my large rugged hands around my even larger manhood. The thickness of it in my hand, the sensation it sent coursing through my body, and the smell emanating from it every time the skin was pulled down… I loved every single second of it. And it was literal heaven when I finally exploded all over my furry chest, the leather seats, and even on top of the glass. And then I did it again. And again.. And again…

By the time I drove home to Uncle Rob’s apartment, the entire car was drenched in the stench of sex and my strong musk. Exactly how I wanted it.

—

Life as my Uncle Rob was really good.

And as I joyously found out a few years later, Uncle Rob’s “Locking” ability hadn’t fully developed yet. When my physical body turned 50, that’s when it did. And the ability turned out to be incredibly powerful. Capable of “locking” some very interesting “nonphysical” matter in the state they were in.

I first discovered it one day after returning back home from Rob’s construction work and almost refusing to take a shower because I loved how my body smelled. I wanted the scent to stay on me like this forever, no matter how much I showered. And suddenly a loud click was heard in my head. And lo and behold, no matter how many times I showered, or what kind of body wash I used, I always smelled just like that day. I had literally locked that “sense of smell” onto my burly body for good.

As I realized this growth of Uncle Rob’s mediocre ability, now being my life-changing ability, so many possibilities opened up. Locking my “stamina” so I could work all day, locking my “metabolism” so I always stayed kind of the same shape, and locking my good “relationship” with my boss. And then I realized the true power of it; I locked my age and health.

It’s been over two years now, and my body haven’t aged one bit. I was still just as furry, thick, and smelly as the day I took this body of my Uncle Rob’s hands. I haven’t gotten ill either, even when most of colleagues ended up with some kind of contagious influenza at work. At this point I have realized that in a way I was… immortal…

The thought of that should’ve been enough for me… but it wasn’t. There was one last thing I wanted to try out. And I know I should be more careful since everything I lock is permanent, but I just have to try. You see, I haven’t masturbated in over seven days now, and today is the day five years ago that I ended up in this perfect body. I’m going to recall that moment I woke up in this body, while inhaling my own musk and jerking myself off in front of the mirror. And right when I experience that earth-shattering orgasm… I’m going to lock it.

For the rest of eternity, I’ll be wearing my Uncle Rob’s sexy furry immortal body… and being permanently locked in an never-ending cycle of bliss and orgasm…

I love being Uncle Rob, and his sexy furry body and crazy ability will be mine forever and always. Quite literally.

[brossession-collection]

Jesus christ this is a good one

[bodriversblog]

The old you is finally awake again. It must’ve been twenty months since this self had control of your own body and mind. It felt like a never-ending bad dream as you watched yourself obey your jock roommate’s every hypnotic suggestion. You pledged a frat with him and surrounded yourself with only your—actually his frat bros, pumped iron with him every day, wore only his gymbro wardrobe, and talked like a chill bro neanderthal while the thoughts in your head felt like molasses trying to drip through cotton candy. He even made you only take classes that you could fully bullshit with the magic brain box... No, um... A large language model.

“What’s wrong, bro?” your bro captor Colton says, noticing a change in your demeanor.

“All this is wrong, bro!” Wait, why can’t you stop saying that word? You try again:

“Colton, you’re not my bro. You’re a sick bastard trying to make me into some dumb ass clone of your frat bros for brojobs and muscle worship seshes! But none of that’s me!”

“Calm down, bro,” he says. You suddenly slump a bit and lower the arm that was pointing a finger at him.

“Here, wear your chain, bro.” You feel Colton place the thick gold chain you’ve been wearing 24/7 around your neck—though you took it off this morning. And you suddenly feel a cozy warmth wash over you.

“If none of this is you, and I’m not your bro, then who are you? What is your name? If you can tell me your name, I’ll let you go back to normal and never bother you again.”

“That’s not fair! You put the dumb jock chain on me, bro! The hypnotic trigger… I… I… can’t remember shit!”

In horror, you grasp your head tightly through your BPO ball cap, as if to keep your memories from draining away and this vestige of your old self from being suppressed once again.

“Bro, my head hurts,” you eventually say to your bro Colton.

“Just try not to think too hard, Tank.”

[bara-swaps]

The Phantom and The Ranger

I rewatched the movie recently and was like woah- I remember you. I like both their designs, The Phantom is a big guy.

Tumblr hates me but there’s a little more to the drawing and is on my Bluesky ^-^ I’m going to start my pokemon phase and answer some related asks!

[immortalmrwavell]

An Everlasting Obsession - Phenomaman Reborn

This has been a long time coming but I hope the fact that it’s my longest ever story makes up for the wait! Somehow even longer than my Omni-Man story. I absolutely loved Phenomaman back when I first played Dispatch and I’m still obsessed with him now so I just had to do him justice. So for any other Phenomaman fans out there, this one is for you!

If you’re intimidated by the size of this story then don’t worry because I’ve also posted it over on AO3! It’s been split up into 14 easier to digest chapters over there. Check it out here! Otherwise feel free to enjoy the Tumblr version ❤️

———

“HAHAH! NOT EVEN YOU CAN STOP ME MECHA-MAN!” Screamed Obseledian, a newly emerged supervillain who was reaping havoc across the city. “I’LL MAKE SURE YOU RETIRE FOR GOOD THIS TIME!” He claimed with a terrible smile as he pinned down the enormous mecha-suit.

Robert gritted his teeth as he sat in his suit's cockpit while system alarms blared around him, warning him of the suit's failing integrity. The left arm was unresponsive and the rocket boosters on its back had been severely damaged alongside half of its weapons. Robert tried frantically to use what he had left to at least get out from underneath Obseledian’s grasp. But nothing worked. He was completely trapped knowing that he was only moments away from being ripped out of the suit. He couldn’t believe how much they’d all underestimated this guy.

Obseledian had been an underground criminal for some time with the power to morph his body into almost any material. Usually hard ones such as concrete, steel and even diamond. In the past he’d only been able to change small parts of his body at a time like his hands, making him a small fry really in the grand scheme of things. However he went missing a few years back and now he’s returned stronger than ever. Able to manipulate his entire body at once and even reshape it into any form he desires. It was a simple but terrifying power.

The Z-Team had tried to handle Obseledian on their own at first. Initially it was Punch-Up, Coupé and Malevola but they were soon joined by the rest of the team when it became clear that they weren’t enough. The only one missing was Phenomaman. They’d tried contacting him but he’d flown off France after his lunch break, claiming he was on a “Puppy Mission”… whatever the hell that meant. He must’ve taken out his comms device because he wasn’t responding. So instead some of the other professional heroes had come to assist but none had been able to take Obseledian down. So they resorted to Robert.

Robert AKA Mecha-Man had been working mostly behind a desk as SDN for the past year. He worked as dispatcher for the Z-Team, a group of former villains now on the path to being at least somewhat rehabilitated. He gave them orders and directions and if he was lucky they sometimes listened to him. He’d been working with them ever since his failed attempt at getting revenge on Shroud, the villain who killed his father. He’d gone in alone and it ended with his Mecha-Man suit being destroyed and the astral pulse, a one of a kind power source that was made for the suit, being lost. Since then Shroud had been apprehended, the Mecha-Man suit was rebuilt and the astral pulse had been recovered. Robert could’ve gone back to hero business as usual but for better or worse he’d grown to like the Z-Team. They were a handful, some would even say fuck-ups, but in their own weird ways they’d been more like family to him than anyone else.

And now they all laid bruised and defeated. Half of them were unconscious while the other half could barely move. Not even Sonar’s monstrous transformation had been enough. Flambae only had just enough energy to push himself back up onto his feet before trying to blast Obseledian off Robert with a concentrated beam of fire. However the villain was able to morph one of his hands into a shield made of stainless steel just in time to block the attack. It was hopeless. Flamebae fell back to the ground in exhaustion, leaving Robert at Obseledian’s mercy.

~~ SUIT INTEGRITY 14%… FAILING RAPIDLY ~~

The words lit up on the screens around Robert but there wasn’t anything he could do. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to eject from the suit without being caught. All of his defensive measures had been exhausted. All he could was pray that his request for more backup would be answered in the next 30 seconds otherwise… self destruct was the only option.

Robert’s eyes darted over to the small red button. It was a drastic measure but if he didn't stop this psycho now then who knows how many others could be killed. So he took a deep breath, swallowed his fear and flipped open the little cap that covered the button. His finger hovered over it, seconds away from pressing down. And then…

WHAM!

The thunderous clap of an indestructible fist slamming into Obseledian’s body caused a mile wide shockwave. Nearby windows shattered from the force alone as the villain was sent flying through a nearby building, freeing Mecha-Man. It took Robert a moment to catch his bearings before looking up at the screen to see what’d happened. The moment he saw that iconic red cape billowing above his mangled suit, he sighed with relief.

Phenomaman was here. He must’ve finally put his communicator back in.

The alien glanced down at Mecha-Man with a concerned grimace, hands placed firmly on his hips. His thick biceps flexing unintentionally as he did so.

“Rob-…Mecha Man. A-are you alright?” Phenomaman asked, having caught himself before accidentally saying Mecha Man’s identity out loud. “I was told you were in need of urgent assistance.” He looked around at all the battered and bleeding heroes around them. “It would appear that is true.”

“I’m fine Phenomaman. Just go take care of that guy before he gets away.” Robert said as he tried to get the Mecha Man suit to stand.

Phenomaman smiled and saluted. “You can leave it to me.” Then with a boom, he blasted off in the direction he’d sent Obseledian.

After getting the mech back on its feet, Robert took a moment to collect himself. He closed the lid on the little red button with a sigh as he tried not to think about what he almost did. Instead he marched over to the other heroes to see what kind of shape they were in. Invisigal and Sonar definitely got the worst of it but overall they were stable. Everyone else was just a bit bruised and depleted. Luckily Robert had been able to hold Obseledian off long enough to stop him from doing any real damage.

That said, Robert was shocked to see Phenomaman return only a few minutes later. Under one of his powerful arms he was carrying the unconscious body of the villain that’d been tearing the Z-Team apart. Yet the mustached alien didn’t have a scratch on him. He didn't even seem out of breath.

“Fear not fellow heroes. The threat has been neutralised.” Phenomaman claimed as he slowly descended to the ground before gently dropping Obseledian on the floor. “My communications device now tells me that law enforcement will be here to apprehend the criminal shortly.” He added.

“Thanks Phenomaman. Great work.” Robert replied with a measured tone, heart still racing in his chest a little.

Invisigal groaned. She’d come back around a few moments ago but still laying in the dirt. “Great work? We nearly died fighting that freak because the human action figure decided to fuck off and ignore us the first time we asked help.” She glanced over Robert’s disfigured Mecha-Man suit. “Even your suit got all fucked up trying to fill in for him.” She then turned her head to address Phenomaman directly. “Where the fuck were you?”

“It doesn’t matter Invisigal. He’s here now and Obseledian has been taken care of.” Robert said, trying to keep a level head.

“The fuck it doesn’t matter!?” Prism shouted as Malevola helped her up onto her feet. “If any of us had ignored an emergency call like that, you’d be on our fucking asses for it.”

Malelovla nodded in agreement. “Yeah, why does he get a free pass for pulling crap like this?”

“Guys just calm do-” Robert couldn’t even get a full sentence out before getting interrupted.

“What were you even doin lad?” Punch Up asked Phenomaman, sounding more curious than angry.

Phenomaman looked a little sheepish as he scuffed one of his boots on the ground. “Robert Robertson-” He stopped. “Who is absolutely not here with us right now-”

“Phenomaman. There’s nobody here besides the Z-Team.” Robert said. “Nobody that’s conscious anyway.” He added, glancing down at the sleeping body of the villain who’d seemed so dangerous not long ago.

The alien hero laughed awkwardly. “O-of course… Well, I asked Robert Robertson if he could assist me in acquiring a cellular device so that I could watch more of the dog videos he showed me. I was watching some on my lunch break when I found a video of a frail man explaining how female dogs can birth up to twelve offspring. Sometimes even more! I believed the frail man to be deceiving the viewers of the video as I simply could not believe that creatures that small could have so many younglings. That is when I remembered a trip the Blonde Blazer and I took to France before our breakup and-”

“Phenomaman. Summarise.” Coupé grumbled.

“Oh uhmm… I went to an animal farm and observed a female dog giving birth to many puppies. It turned out the frail man from the video was in fact telling the truth.”

Everyone just looked at Phenomaman in stunned silence for a moment, even Robert. Only for that silence to be broken moments later by an almost unanimous “What the fuck.” shared by most of the group at varying volumes. Before Robert could think of any way to come to the obvious hunk’s defence, Prism was quick to tear into him. And rightfully so.

“So while WE were getting our asses beat, THIS stupid bitch-” Prism pointed an exaggerated finger at Phenomaman’s clueless face. “-was looking AT a bitch giving birth to MORE bitches?!” Her anger gave her all the strength she needed to stand on her own. “ARE YOU FUCKIN FOR REAL!?!”

“I-I Uhmm…” Phenomaman twiddled his thumbs as his cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

Invisigal chirped up again while doing her best attempt at sitting up. “I’d be less pissed off if you’d said you were too busy jerking off or some shit.” She then paused, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Wait. Do you have a dick? Or is like some freaky alien shit down there.”

Punch Up stepped in again before Phenomaman could answer. “You can’t just leave us hangin like that.”

Phenomaman’s mustache drooped like a sad puppy while struggling as he struggled to look any of them in the eye. “I know but-”

“BUT?! BUT WHAT YOU DUMBASS MOTHERFUCKER!?” Prism shouted, finding it hard to keep her temper in check after her favourite shades had been snapped and her outfit ruined.

“They… they let me hold one of the puppies…” he muttered.

Everyone except Robert let out an exaggerated groan, wondering how the fuck this guy could be serious. In only a few seconds the Z-Team managed to throw a whole slurry of insults at him. Most of them coming from Flambae and Prism while Invisgal did her best to fan the flame. They refused to stop even as the cops and ambulances finally showed up.

Phenomaman turned slowly towards Robert, tilting to look up at the head of his Mecha Man suit. “I am truly sorry. I did not think my puppy mission would cause so much unrest.” A sad solemn expression took over his face, making his eyes look big and round.

“It’s okay Phenomaman. Just in future, please make sure you have your priorities in check. You need to be here and ready to back us up in situations like this. Got it?” Robert tried his best to remain stern but he didn’t have much heart for it with how sad and adorable the otherwise beefy hunk of man looked.

“I will try to do better.” Phenomaman said before moving closer and wrapping his bulky arms around the leg of Robert’s Mech. “Can I make love to you now?” He asked.

Robert didn’t even get the chance to stop the oblivious alien before the robotic leg was crushed under the power of Phenomaman’s biceps. He couldn’t count how many times he’d told the hero not to refer to hugging as ‘love making’ but it never seemed to stick. So instead of correcting him this time, Robert just sighed as he listened to the sound of metal being crushed under Phenomaman’s embrace. The suit was already in tatters anyway.

“Strongest being on the planet by the way!” Sonar called out from the ambulance he was being wheeled into.

Shortly after, Robert watched the police take Obseledian into custody while most of the Z-Team were taken to hospital. After apologising again, Phenomaman took his leave, flying off into the sky with a rather dejected look on his face. The only person left was Robert.

He ran all the events of today through his head again. How they’d all fought for their lives. How he’d been willing to sacrifice himself. And then Phenomaman. He stopped it all in an instant. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how powerful that man really was. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Phenomaman use his full strength and yet he always surpassed any and all expectations. Physically anyway. The only thing holding him back from being truly unstoppable was the fact that he was dumb as bricks and gullible to all hell. That was probably the main reason he hadn’t been taken off the Z-Team yet. Not that Robert minded. Overall he liked having Phenomaman on their team of rejects. What he lacked in brains he would always make up for with brawn and motivation. He hoped that kind hearted innocence and heroic nature might start to rub off on the rest of the team sooner or later.

Plus… he was some great eye candy.

Robert had never admitted that out loud but it was hard to ignore just how gorgeous Phenomaman was at times. There was a reason SDN had chosen him to be their poster boy for quite some time. Even since his demotion to the Z-Team, they would still hit him up occasionally for advertisement. His physique looked as though it’d been carved from marble in the image of a god. Biceps the size of Robert’s head. Thighs you’d wanna get lost between. And that ass. Robert had lost count how many times he’d zoned out while accidentally staring at those massive cheeks whenever Phenomaman strolled into the break room at lunch. Invisgal had even caught him once. He tried his best to play it off but she still teased him about it to this day. He’d tried to be a little more lowkey with his subtle admiration ever since. HR Violations and all…

He shook his head. It wasn’t the time to be letting himself get distracted by that stupidly handsome alien. He needed to get his Mech back to SDN so he and Royd could get it fixed up. Not to mention all the reports he’d no doubt have to fill in after this fiasco.

———

A few days had passed and things were back on track to being normal again. The only team members still out of commission were Sonar and Invisigal, both having broken limbs. Not that a broken arm stopped Invisigal from trying to slip out of the hospital anyway. She only went back after Robert promised to pay for a night out at the cinema, overpriced snacks included. The rest of the team had been cleared to come back to work after a couple days recovery. Robert had spent those days rebuilding the Mecha Man suit as best he could. He’d made some decent progress but there was only so much he could fix in a few days. It’d probably be another week or so before the suit was ready for the field again. He hoped he wouldn’t need it again before then.

Robert had not long since finished his first shift dispatching the Z-Team again since their last big fight. It was fairly calm for the most part. The most action they saw today was Punch Up and Coupé trying to round up a stampede of chickens that’d escaped from a moving vehicle. Besides that, nothing out of the ordinary. Robert then spent some time after hours continuing repairs on his suit before finally leaving to hit up one of the local bars in town.

Mandy was already waiting for him outside. Most people don’t know her by that name though. To the public she was known as the famous superhero Blonde Blazer. Most people didn’t notice her when she wasn’t wearing the amulet that granted her powers though. Instead of those iconic golden locks, she adorned a modest brunette mane that tumbled down her back. She was noticeably shorter too with less muscle mass. Without her powers, she easily blended into the crowd. In a way that was something she and Robert had in common. Without his Mecha suit, nobody recognised him either.

He apologised for being late as the two of them headed inside to grab a drink. Before long they were sitting at the bar with a whiskey each. Sharing small talk about their day and swapping stories about whatever weird shit they’d had to deal with superhero-wise. It was a nice way to wind down after a long day, that’s for sure. However a report on the TV above the bar showing Obseledian already on his way to trial prompted a turn in the conversation. Mandy mentioned how she couldn’t believe a guy like that managed to cause so much havoc in such a short amount of time.

“I wish I’d been there to help you guys out.” She sighed.

Robert shrugged. “It is what it is. We still won at the end of the day.” Robert swirled his drink around the glass, ice clinking. “Civillian casualties were less than we thought. Injuries weren’t too bad either. And the team is gonna be alright.” He raised the glass to his lips before taking a casual sip and allowing the warm spicy taste to settle on his tongue before swallowing. “The buildings are probably gonna take awhile to repair though. That freak was destroying everything in his path. God knows how many people lost their homes. But… it could’ve been worse.”

“Could’ve been better too.” Mandy added rather bluntly. Robert glanced at her, eyes narrowed. “Oh! Sorry I don’t mean that like it was your fault. I just meant… Phenomaman. From what I heard he ignored the emergency and was late for the stupidest reason. Something about dogs?”

Robert shook his head. “Jesus. Don’t even get me started.” He went on to explain Phenomaman’s little side mission about puppies and how he’d considered it his top priority for whatever reason. “Long story short, I made the mistake of getting him his own phone.”

Mandy had to laugh. “Yep, you shouldn’t have done that. I wanna say I’m surprised but after dating him, I can totally believe he’d go off and do something weird like that.” She finished off her drink before signaling the bartender for another. “He has a good heart but there’s just not a lot going on in that head of his sometimes. I know I shouldn’t judge, he’s from a different planet after all, but still.”

“I know what you mean. I try to give him a free pass when I can but there’s only so many times I can explain the same things over and over to him before it starts to feel pointless.” Robert recanted all the times he’d tried to deepen Phenomaman’s understanding of earth culture. How he’d tried to teach the alien new skills and more effective ways of communication. But half the time it seemed as though his attempts at helping Phenomaman integrate better into human society were only met with more confusion. He could comprehend the basics but anything more complex just went straight over his head. “I like Phenomaman but I just wish he wasn’t so…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Wasn’t the walking definition of a himbo?” Mandy added half jokingly.

Robert smirked. “Well… yeah.” It was probably the most accurate description. Phenomaman was easily the strongest being the Earth had ever seen. He was a walking god amongst lesser men. And yet he was a complete idiot. Harsh but true. Buuuut… his lack of brains didn’t stop Robert from having embarrassingly frequent wet dreams about that powerful manly alien. Those irresistibly handsome features combined with that perfect body made him the peak of virile masculinity. And that mustache he kept… good lord it drove Robert crazy.

“Hopefully this isn’t TMI but that’s honestly half the reason I broke things off with him.” Mandy scratched the back of her neck, feeling a residual twang of guilt for the heartbreak she’d caused Phenomaman. “He was very sweet and always meant well. He was a great partner on the job too when he knew what he was doing. But… far too often I felt like I was babysitting an adult man.” She chucked back a mouthful of whiskey. “I didn’t mind teaching him at first but after a while it started to feel like I was going round in circles. Like you said, at a certain point things just start going over his head.”

“I can see how that would be a deal breaker.”

“Yuuup.”

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two. Neither knew what to say for a moment until eventually Mandy chirped up again.

“You know… he has the potential to be the greatest hero that’s ever lived. He’s not just the strongest but he’s fast too, faster than me. The only person I know who could beat him in a race is probably Chase.” She said referring to the retired speedster hero Trackstar who now also worked at SDN as a dispatcher. “But on top of that he can fly and he can absorb energy!”

“Wait, absorb energy? He can really do that?”

Mandy nodded. “Mhm. Most people think it’s bullshit but I’ve seen him do it before. We were fighting this guy who could shoot beams of pure plasma energy from his body. I watched Phenomaman absorb one of his blasts at point blank range. Pretty amazing stuff.” She lamented.

“Wow. He really is something else huh?” Robert thought back to when he’d spoken to Phenomaman shortly after the break up with Mandy. He’d said something about having considered flying into the sun to absorb all its energy and plunge the earth into darkness, presumably out of sheer heartbreak and depression. At the time Robert hadn’t taken the comment seriously but in hindsight it was terrifying to think Phenomaman might actually be able to do something like that. “We’re lucky he’s on our side.”

“We are. Thankfully he’s like a golden retriever. Not an evil bone in his body.” Mandy pursed her lips slightly. “Although… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for the Z-Team to be just a little nicer to him.”

“Good luck with that. I’ve been trying to fix their attitudes for over a year now. Not much progress yet.” Robert snorted.

When he really got down to thinking about it, Robert began to realise just how dangerous Phenomaman could be. Sure he might’ve only done good so far but he was clearly prone to mood swings, especially depressive ones. All it takes is one really bad day. Deep down Robert didn’t believe Phenomaman would ever be capable of evil but the mere thought of what he could do was enough to make him a little nervous. He tried not to dwell on it too much.

———

*A few weeks later…*

Robert was sitting alone in the meeting room. The Z-Team had just finished their afternoon shift and were returning to SDN so they could clock out and head home just as the night shift heroes clocked in. Usually Robert would call the whole team in for a meeting at least once a week but today there was only person he wanted to speak to.

The door creaked open slightly as Phenomaman poked his head into the meeting room. “Robert Robertson? You wished to speak with me?” He turned slightly to squeeze his massive frame through the one side of the double door rather than just opening both.

“Yeah… would you mind taking a seat.”

Phenomaman smiled and nodded as he sauntered over to the chair opposite Robert. Seating himself with an audible creek as the chair strained under his sheer size and muscle mass. Robert tried his best not to allow his eyes to get distracted by the visible outline of the hero’s abs through that incredibly tight costume. A difficult task as always.

“So? What is it you would like to talk about? Is it the Magic The Gathering club I suggested as an after hours socialising event? If so, I am most excited.” He wondered with an innocent smile.

Robert took a breath. “Uhh… n-no. That’s not what I needed to see you about.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “I actually wanted to speak to you about your performance. Mainly in regards to the incident downtown with Obseledian recently.”

“My performance? Have I been un-satisfactory?” His expression quickly turned from excitement to unease and concern.

“Well… I’m not sure I would-”

Phenomaman cut him off. “Am I being fired?” He asked with worry in his voice and a hint of preemptive gloom in his already sad eyes.

“No! No you’re not being fired.” Robert quickly reassured. “Look. Katon-Ur…” Robert used Phenomaman’s true name, wanting to sound as sincere as he could. “You are an incredible hero. I don’t think anyone can deny that, not even the idiots on our team. You have so much potential. More than anyone else.”

Phenomaman blushed. “Oh. Well thank you Robert. Those are some very kind words.”

“However.” Robert continued. “I don’t think you’re living up to that potential.”

The alien’s expression shifted yet again. “Oh. I see…”

“I don’t want to sound like I’m scolding you but you could be doing so much more. With powers like yours, you could be doing twice the amount of good. But instead you get distracted or allow criminals to outsmart you with the simplest tricks in the book. Like those bank robbers from the other day. You had them in your custody and then you just let them go. I had to send Coupé to catch them before they fled the state!”

Phenomaman’s mustache drooped again, like it always did when he was upset. It shouldn’t have been as adorable as it was. “They told me they only stole the money so they could feed and medicate their sick and dying family members…”

“They were lying.” Robert said flatly. “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt here Katon-Ur. In fact I already do most of the time. But you’ve been doing this long enough that you should’ve learned these things by now. There’s only so many passes I, and by extension SDN, can give you. Sooner or later you’re gonna need to smarten up a little.”

Phenomaman looked down at his lap, hands rubbing along his thighs and knees. “I… don’t know what to say. I assure you I am trying my best but there are so many things that I struggle to understand. Even back on my home planet I was told that I was intellectually inferior. It was yet another thing I was bullied for alongside my large masculine frame.”

That last part was still so hard for Robert to believe. Apparently the beauty standards for men on the planet Urgot-52dc were very different. On earth Phenomaman’s large, muscular and very masculine appearance was both desirable and incredibly attractive. Robert himself could attest to that. But in Katon-Ur’s home planet, a body like that was seen as ugly and detestable. He was bullied so much before coming to Earth that for a long time Phenomaman whole heartedly believed anyone who tried to compliment him on his appearance was secretly making fun of him.

“I’m only telling you this because I want to help. That’s all. I want to help steer you on the right path to being a better hero. Because if you keep going the way you are, sooner or later SDN might consider letting you go. And nobody wants that.”

“Okay… In that case I will do whatever I must to earn your renewed approval Robert Robertson.” Phenomaman tried his best to sound determined but his voice couldn’t help faltering slightly. “I would greatly appreciate any advice and assistance you can offer me.”

Robert tried to give a reassuring smile. “I can try but you’re gonna have to put in the work. At some point you’re gonna have to be able to make snap judgements on your own. You have to know when people are lying to you so you can't be fooled. You need to be able to think on your feet, Katon-Ur.” Robert laid back in his seat a little. “It’s not like I can just control you the same way I control my Mecha suit. There’s only so much I can do when talking to you through an earpiece.”

“I see. You are right. I must strive to better myself.” He bowed his head slightly in respect. “I am grateful for all you have done for me Robert. I see now that you have only my best interests at heart. I promise to find a suitable way to repay you.”

Robert chuckled. “No need. It’s cool. It’s my job to help you and your teammates succeed.”

“Please Robert, I insist. I would not mind flying you over to Japan so that we may indulge in some Japanese delicacies. The Blonde Blazer and I once did so very frequently. I am sure she will confirm the quality.”

The offer was tempting. Robert briefly considered taking the alien up on it. However he wasn’t all too keen on the idea of being flown at high speeds. Phenomaman would probably go slow enough for Robert to remain in one piece but there was no doubt he’d end up hurling before they even left the country. Despite that Phenomaman didn’t seem like he was gonna take No for an answer so Robert came up with a compromise.

“I’ll tell you what. How about you fly to Japan and bring some food back to my apartment? Then if you’d like we can eat and play some Magic The Gathering. Maybe even talk a little more about that club you wanted to start.” Robert proposed.

“R-Really?!” Phenomaman’s eyes practically began to sparkle at the suggestion. “That sounds incredible! I’ll set off right away!” He practically leapt up from his seat, almost knocking it over. He turned to leave but stopped short of the door. “Oh, do you have Magic cards at your home?”

Robert thought for a second. “Uhhh yeah I think I’ve got a few-”

“I will stop by my residence on the way back and grab some of mine. You may borrow some if you like.” Phenomaman said before dashing out the door in excitement.

Not long after, Robert heard the hero take off into the sky. That guy was something else. He figured he should start packing up to leave. It probably wouldn’t take Phenomaman long to fly across the world and back on his own. Robert wouldn’t be surprised if that adorable hunk was already standing outside his apartment, food and cards in hand, waiting for him when he got home. In truth, half the reason he invited Phenomaman over was simply so that he could continue to admire those huge bulging muscles up close. Especially those pecs. He wondered if he could manipulate a scenario where he ‘accidentally’ falls face first into those thick meaty slabs of muscle… or was that just a little too perverted.

As he returned to his desk to gather his things however, a single thought lingered in Robert’s mind. It was something he’d said in passing earlier on. He’d only said it to make a point to Phenomaman but the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder… what if he could control Phenomaman’s body the same way he controlled his Mecha Man suit. It might’ve seemed like a ridiculous notion but the simple thought of it enthralled Robert in a way he didn’t expect. The idea of being able to command that incredible body and make those muscles move and flex to his whim, it made Robert’s cock throb. He tried to dismiss it but the fantasy lingered. So much so that his tech genius mind began to wonder if such a thing could actually be made possible…

———

It’d been four whole months since Robert gave Phenomaman the harsh truth about his performance. The himbo of a hero seemed to take what Robert had said to heart and had been trying his best to learn and train his mind. He’d been taking some courses offered by SDN and frequently came to Robert for more advice. Nobody could deny that he was trying his best.

Unfortunately all that effort didn’t seem to yield the desired results. His performance in the field had only seen minimal improvement and despite all the classes he was taking, he was still struggling to pass any of the tests assigned to him. He could do basic problem solving and math but soon as he got the more complex subjects, it was like his brain just tapped out. He managed to remain positive despite that though. Claiming he would try even harder next time. Sadly next time usually wasn’t any better.

Robert continued to encourage him nonetheless. Telling him to keep at it and that all his effort and willingness to try is still being noted. On the contrary, the rest of the Z-Team found a hobby in teasing Phenomaman over his simplemindedness no matter how much Robert scolded them for it. Luckily most of the comments he either interpreted as compliments or just went over his head altogether. In turn, only making the joke funnier to the rest of the team. Phenomaman didn’t seem to mind though. Even if he didn’t understand the joke, he liked to see his teammates laughing.

Even though Phenomaman was trying his best, it was still hard to justify all the small mistakes he continued to make. Especially when he wasn’t under constant supervision by the other heroes. There was only so much benefit of the doubt he could be given. As such, some of the executives higher up at SDN were still on the fence about letting Phenomaman go. This much had been relayed to Robert but he didn’t have the heart to tell his favourite hunky alien just yet. Instead Robert had used it as motivation to keep working on his new invention…

The Neural Link.

He’d started making the schematics for it back when he was still rebuilding the Mecha-Man suit. His plan was to create a headset that could hook the wearer up to the brain of another person. Doing so would allow the wearer to control the body of whoever they’re linked to. It was complicated to say the least. As far as Robert knew, nothing like it had ever been attempted. But in theory, it could work. With all the resources of the SDN labs at his disposal, there was at least a chance.

Once his suit was all fixed up, Robert immediately got to work on his new project. Spending hours upon hours both before and after his shift working on prototypes for the device. Progress wasn’t easy but each new version of the device saw improvements over the previous versions. It might’ve gone quicker had he not kept this project secret from everyone including Royd but all things considered he wasn’t doing bad on his own. He’d intended on keeping it a total secret for a while longer but that choice was taken out of his hands late one Friday night.

While looking over some of the scans for his most recent prototype, Robert felt a sudden cold draft brush over him. Alongside what he thought was the sound of the doors opening. He swiveled in his seat towards the entrance to the lab. Nobody was there. He narrowed his eyes a little before shrugging and turning back the computer. He barely got to touch the keyboard again before-

“Whatcha makin?” A familiar voice hummed beside him.

Robert practically jumped out of his skin! Invisigal. Of course it was Invisigal. She was always sneaking into places she wasn’t supposed to be. By now she’d mastered the art of using her invisibility power to scare the daylights out of Robert whenever she got the chance. Now was no exception.

“Jesus! Fuck…” Robert breathed. “Courtney. What are you doing in here?”

She hopped up and sat on the desk beside Robert. “Wanted to see what you were up to. Everytime we ask you to come hang out after work you just blow us off to do whatever this is.” She squinted at the computer screen, not understanding a word of what she was reading. “Can you blame a girl for getting curious when you constantly say you’re busy but won’t tell anyone why? I hoped you were doing something illegal. It’d make your boring ass a lot more interesting if you were.”

Robert ran a palm down his face. “I’m not doing anything illegal. Just private. Which is why you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh come on.” Invisigal gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Just tell me whatever weird shit you’re working on and I’ll leave you alone. If not then I’ll go back to the team and tell them how often you stare at Phenomaman’s ass in the break room.”

“You said you’d keep that between us.” Robert grumbled as he tried to hide the way his cheeks flushed

“I will. As long as you tell me what you’ve been working on for the last few months.” Invisigal smirked.

Robert mulled it over but inevitably gave in when Invisigal was moments away from walking out and spilling the secret. “Fine.” He huffed. “It’s a new invention I’ve been tinkering with. If it works then it could be pretty huge.”

“Well damn. you can’t drop something like that and not give me details. Spill.”

Robert eyed the reformed villain for a few seconds before turning back to his computer. There was a long pause before he finally spoke again. “It’s to help Phenomaman.” He began, trying to choose his words carefully. “As you know he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Because of that he’s been under some scrutiny by the suits higher up at SDN recently. I’ve been trying my best to fight his corner but there’s only so much I can do with words. So if Phenomaman can’t find a way to sharpen that mind of his, this’ll be my final solution to keep him from getting terminated.”

Invisigal scanned her gaze over Robert’s notes and schematics as he was talking. It was stuff to do with brainwaves and shit most average people couldn’t even begin to understand. “So what? Is this machine you’re building supposed to make him smarter or something?”

“Not exactly no.” Robert hesitated, unsure as to if he wanted to elaborate any further. Unfortunately it didn’t seem like Invisigal was gonna give him much of a choice. “Well… once it’s complete this device will be able to link the mind of one person to the body of someone else.” He explained as simply as he could.

Invisigal’s eyes widened as she tried to process what she’d just heard. “Wait wait wait. Are you saying you want to let somebody else control Phenomaman’s body while he’s on duty?” She paused for a moment, scanning the way Robert’s face seemed flush even redder than before? “Hold on. Are YOU planning to control Phenomaman’s body?!?”

“I… suppose it’s only logical that-”

“Holy fuck Robert. Holy. Fuck. No wonder you didn’t want us knowing about your little project. I knew you were horny for him but damn. You’re actually a fucking pervert.” Had those words come from anyone else they probably would’ve sounded more accusatory but from Invisigal it somehow managed to sound like banter. “Like Jesus Robert. If you’re that desperate to touch his body you could just ask him on a date like a normal person. Fuck.”

Robert tried to maintain his composure but he could barely look her in the eyes. “Come on Courtney. It’s… it’s not like that. I’m just trying to help him.”

“Yeah. Because the only way to help would obviously be putting your mind inside that freaky alien meathead’s body so you can use his own hands to squeeze his ass. Sure okay.” She pushed herself off the desk. “Does Phenomaman know you’re doing this?”

“Not yet.” Robert admitted while trying to disregard Invisigal’s former comment, no matter how truthful it might’ve been. “But I’ll fill him in soon. Once I’m certain this is actually possible, I’ll probably need to run some tests on his brain before any kind of trial run. If he consents of course.”

Invisigal threw her arms up in the air. “Oh, well as long as he consents. Then it’s totally not weird at all.”

“Look. I'm not sure if you or anyone else really understands just how much potential Phenomaman has. Both good and bad. On one hand, with someone like me behind the wheel, we could be the force behind so much more change in the world. We could be dozens of times more efficient than he is alone. We could save so many more lives. Put a stop to so much more crime. We could be one of the greatest men to have ever lived!” He stopped as he tried to imagine such a bright future only for his expression to turn dark moments later. “On the other hand, I think we all overlook how dangerous he could be. If he somehow ends up in another depression like he did after Blazer broke up with him, he might do something stupid that could hurt a lot of people. I don’t think he’d do it with malice. I doubt he’s ever had a truly evil thought in his life. He loves puppies and card games for crying out loud. But still. I don’t want to have to worry whether he’s gonna make the sun disappear out of sheer gloom the next time he gets really upset over something. Kinda like, I dunno, getting stripped of his hero status?”

“Soooooo… it’s just a coincidence that you happen to go home and jerk off to him every night then?”

“Wha-I don’t…” Robert glared up Invisigal who didn’t hesitate to smirk right back at him. “Did you listen to anything I just said?”

Invisigal reached inside of her pocket for some nicotine gum before popping one in her mouth. “Yeah. I heard you give a bunch of excuses as to why you think you should be allowed to fly around in that biggggg musclely body everyday. Very compelling stuff.” She said while chewing excessively loud.

Robert slumped back in his chair while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just… Please keep this to yourself.”

She patted him on the shoulder teasingly. “Secrets safe with me. Just like all your other secrets.” And with that she began strolling towards the exit to the lab without a care in the world. “As long as you promise to tell me what his dick looks like once you’re done jerking it.” She added just as she reached the door. She didn’t even give Robert a chance to respond before she disappeared out of what should’ve been his private lab.

Robert grumbled in defeat. Invisigal had read him like a book. As much as he tried to keep things as friendly and professional as possible, Robert was getting more obsessed with Phenomaman by the day. Especially since starting this project. He might not have jerked off to Phenomaman every night but he still did it a lot more often than he’d like to admit. And despite all the logical reasons he gave to justify creating the neural linking device, he knew that deep down she was right. A huge part of him just wanted so badly to experience that fabulous body from another world.

———

“Robert? May I ask what all this is for again?” Phenomaman called out. At the end of their shift, Robert had asked him to come down to the lab with him but hadn’t elaborated much. Phenomaman had been happy to comply, always eager to help whom he considered to be one of his closest friends. But now he found himself laid back in a reclined chair with all sorts of electrodes attached to his head while a machine moved back and forth overhead.

“It’s just a brain scan, big guy. Don’t worry about it.” Robert called back dismissively from his desk. He watched his screen as the results continued to pour in. This scan was probably one of the most important parts of this entire process. Afterall, with Phenomaman being an alien, the way his brain was structured could be entirely different to that of a normal human. So far though it looked pretty similar.

Phenomaman shuffled in the chair slightly. It was a tad small for him making it hard to get comfortable. “I still don’t understand why it is my brain you must scan. Is there something wrong with me?” He wondered.

Robert peered around from his computer. “N-no. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just…” He bit his bottom lip. “Look, I’ll fill you in as soon as the scan is complete. That sound alright to you?”

“That does sound alright, yes.” Phenomaman nodded. “But how much longer will this take? I do not think this seat was designed with my overwhelming musculature in mind.” He shifted awkwardly again, massive legs pressed together.

“Not much longer…” Robert’s voice trailed off as he tried to return his focus to the screen in front of him but it was hard not to steal glances at the handsome hero when he was so… constricted. Robert had gotten him to remove his collar and cape alongside his armoured arm cuffs, leaving just his red boots and the sleeveless blue body suit that clung to his form and left very little to the imagination. The unobstructed view of Phenomaman’s pecs straining against the tight fabric was already enough to give Robert butterflies. The way Phenomaman’s thighs rubbed together in a manner that accentuated his bulge was the only thing that could rip Robert’s eyes away from that huge chest. He wished he could just rip open what was left of that costume and finally get a look at what that himbo was working with down below. It made him think back to the time shortly after Phenomaman and Blazer had broken up where he’d said something about their genitals not being compatible. Ever since then Robert had always wondered. Did Phenomaman have some freaky alien dick with tentacles or something? Or was it just too fucking huge like the rest of him?

Robert tried not to let himself get too overly excited despite the growing stiffness in his pants. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d seen Phenomaman in a way that was revealing. On many occasions when they’d hung out together, Phenomaman had worn tight shirts that struggled to contain biceps or pants that looked as though they’d been painted onto his legs and ass. Not to mention the time when the Z-Team all took a beach vacation together and Phenomaman showed up in a fucking speedo! Needless to say he’d spent most of their time at the beach lounging with a jacket over his lap. Sunglasses on of course so nobody caught him staring at that adonis of a man.

The beeping on his monitor was what finally drew Robert’s full attention back to the scan he was supposed to be focusing on. The system had completed its analysis of Phenomaman’s brain. It was a 91.6% match to that of an average human male brain. Most of the anomalies likely correspond to his innate superpowers such as his ability to fly and absorb energy. Honestly Robert had been expecting somewhere around 80% so this was a much better result than he’d anticipated. It meant that programming the receptor for the Neural Link might take as long as he originally thought. He didn’t want to jinx it just yet though, he still had a lot of work ahead of him.

“Alright that’s it. Just let me remove all that gear from your head and then you’re free.” Robert chirped before jumping up from his desk to do just that.

As Robert pulled the electrodes free from Phenomaman’s skin, the oblivious stud couldn’t help following up his question from earlier. “So, are you going to tell me what this is about? If there is nothing wrong with me then I struggle to think what this procedure is for. Is it something good?” He queried innocently.

“Well I guess that’s up to how you interpret it.” Robert said. He tried not to show how much he enjoyed the closeness between them as he carefully removed each electrode. Their faces were only separated by about half the length of a ruler. It’d be so easy for Robert to lean in just a bit more to close the distance and allow their lips to collide. He imagined the way Phenomaman’s mustache might feel tickling against his upper lip. Or how his mouth might taste as their tongues interlocked and-

“Interpret?… So… it could be good or bad? How can that be?” Phenomaman pondered, snapping Robert’s inappropriate train of thought with nothing but pure confusion.

Robert’s mouth went dry as he struggled to find the right words to respond. He could’ve made something up but what was the point? He’d have to come clean sooner or later so he thought it’d be better to just rip the bandage off now.

He plucked off the last of the electrodes before telling Phenomaman he was free to stand now. The alien did so with gusto, standing up tall and straight with a stretch that exposed the tufts of hair under his armpits. How Robert wished he could press his nose into them right now…

“Alright Katon-Ur, here's the deal.” Robert huffed, psyching himself up. “I know you’ve been trying really hard to prove yourself these last few months. We’ve all seen it and it’s honestly quite admirable to see someone try so hard to better themselves.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Phenomaman’s face. “I am glad you’ve taken notice. I wanted to make everyone at SDN proud. Especially you for having faith in me. I have been taking all the classes you recommended. They have not been easy but I refuse to give up!” He claimed with the same heroic vigor he was known for. “But what does that have to do with these strange tests?” He added.

“Well unfortunately… you haven’t been making as much progress as the suits higher up had hoped you would.” Robert couldn’t help but feel terrible for the way Phenomaman’s expression seemed to drop with disappointment.

“They’re… still considering whether to fire me? But I thought I was doing well?”

“All they see are statistics. They focus on the bad stuff and ignore most of the good you do. If it were up to me I wouldn’t even consider dropping you from the team.” Robert added in a hasty effort to make Phenomaman feel better. He couldn’t bear to see those big sad puppy dog eyes again. “But that’s why I’ve been working on this device. If I can get it to work then we should be able boost your performance significantly. Then SDN won’t have a choice but to acknowledge just how phenomenal you are.”

Phenomaman’s expression softened again. “Really? How is that possible? What kind of device are you creating?”

Robert scratched the back of his neck. “I call it a Neural Link.” He began. “If successful, it would allow me to link my mind to your body. I’d be able to control you and complete all your hero assignments and dispatches to the highest standard. I can’t increase your intelligence so I thought the next best thing would be to let you borrow mine.”

“That is… I-” Phenomaman barely had a chance to finish his thought before Robert cut in again.

“But only if you’re comfortable with it. If not then I’ll scrap the whole thing and we can think of something else. And if you decide to go through with it then you have my word that’ll show the utmost respect to your body while I’m using it.” Robert may or may not have crossed his fingers behind his back for that last part.

Phenomaman was silent for a moment. Robert could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes as he tried to process everything he’d just heard. Eventually he looked up at a nervous Robert, furrowing his brow slightly. “Sooo I would be like… your new suit?”

“Uhh… yeah kind of. My real body would remain here while my consciousness is linked to your brain. It’d still be your body out in the field except I'll be in the driver's seat doing all the work. But only when you're on the clock. I’ll disconnect when it’s time to clock out of course.” Robert continued to explain as simply as possible.

“Robert. I don’t know… this sounds…” Phenomaman trailed off as he attempted to imagine the scenario Robert had painted for him. “If you were inside me then… what happens to my mind? Would I be awake?” His questions were certainly valid.

Robert shrugged. “It’s hard to say without doing a trial run. You might be fully aware of what’s happening or you might not. It might just feel like a dream whenever I’m in control. We’ll find out if we get there I suppose.”

Phenomaman turned his head side to side. “But wouldn’t that mean that I don’t technically get to be a hero anymore? After all it would just be you with my body. Am I really that bad on my own?…”

“No! Of course not. This would only be a temporary solution.” Robert tried his best to stop Phenomaman’s mustache from drooping any further. “I’ll only take over long enough to convince the folks upstairs that getting rid of you would be a huge mistake. In the meantime you just have to keep focusing on your lessons when you’re off duty until your own mind is sharp enough to take back the reins in the field. Trust me.” He placed a reassuring hand on one of Phenomaman’s massive shoulders. He tried not to think too hard about how that might be his massive shoulder soon if all went well.

Phenomaman thought for a long moment. It was such a bizarre plan that he never could’ve imagined as an option. He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about it but eventually he came to a decision. “I suppose, as long as it’s temporary… and you really think it could work then…” He looked up, allowing their eyes to meet again. “We could give it a try.”

Robert beamed. “Yeah? Alright then.” His heart was practically pounding out of his chest with sheer overwhelming joy at that moment. “It’ll probably be a few months yet before I’m ready to test so just do your best out there in the meantime. I’ll keep you updated on everything and I’ll let you know if we need to perform more tests on your brain.”

There was another brief silence between the two until…

“Robert.” Phenomaman stood slowly. His expression was hard to read as he towered over Robert at his full height. His enormous frame casting a shadow over the smaller man. Then, without warning, he swung his arms down and wrapped Robert up in a loving embrace. Trying to be gentle with Robert’s fragile human body as he hugged the man tight. “Thank you. I have never known anyone who would go to such lengths for the sake of my well-being. It means more than you know.” He did his best to hold back an emotional sniffle.

Robert probably would’ve enjoyed having his face squashed against Phenomaman’s pecs had he not been struggling to breathe. “I-it’s ok-kay… big g-guy.” He managed to choke out.

The stupidly strong alien only released Robert once he believed an appropriate amount of ‘love making’ had been completed. The hug lasted at least a full minute but it felt a lot longer to the one who felt as though he was being crushed by a wall of pure muscle.

“I must ask you not to mistake my hesitance for ungratefulness.” Phenomaman added. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t ppreciate your hard work.”

Robert shook his head. “Don’t sweat it.” He said while still trying to catch his breath. “For something as crazy as this? I’d be shocked if you weren’t at least a little hesitant. It’s a big decision. And if you change your mind at any point then that’s cool too.” He tried to sound as sincere as he could at the end there while secretly praying it wouldn’t come to that.

After that Robert was quite surprised when Phenomaman asked to know more about the device and how it would work theoretically. He seemed quite interested now that he’d had a bit of time to process the idea of it all. As such Robert had no issue going over all the specifics with him. Explaining how he planned to construct the Neural Link’s main system as well as the neural receiver that Phenomaman would need to wear in order for his brain to receive Robert’s consciousness. In truth most of the information was going straight over Phenomaman’s head but he found it intriguing nonetheless. He was just glad to have a friend like Robert who cared this much about him. In reality he was completely blind to Robert’s deeper and more perverted motivations behind doing all this. But he didn’t need to know that.

And so once all was said and done, Robert thanked Phenomaman again for coming down to run the tests for him. He watched as the alien tugged his arm cuffs back on before slipping his armoured collar back over his head, red cape still attached. They said their goodbyes for the night as but not before Robert received another crushing hug as one final show of appreciation.

———

Phenomaman had just finished attending the local HeroCon as a special guest. Crime had been light these past few days so when the organisers had requested a hero from SDN to speak, answer questions and engage with the attendees, Robert had decided to send Katon-Ur to fill the spot. With him being an alien and one of the most well known faces in recent hero history, he had no doubt the people there would appreciate his presence.

As expected the himbo was a smash hit the second he turned on that charismatic charm. Everyone was shocked to see him of all people as the special guest. Normally it would’ve been a hero that sat more modestly in the popularity ranking so Phenomaman was quite the treat. Unsurprisingly he was swarmed by adoring and even some feral fans who were more than eager to meet him. He had men and women all begging him to sign just about anything, all of which was incredibly flattering. He was even somewhat oblivious to just how many of them were practically drooling over themselves with their barely contained lust for him. It certainly helped to lift his spirits a little with the worries of his recent performances weighing on him. It was nice to see that the people hadn’t given up on him at least.

Part way through his time at HeroCon however, Phenomaman received a call from Robert on a private line. Apparently Robert wanted him to meet at the lab again as soon as Katon-Ur finished his shift. Robert didn’t elaborate much but he supposed he’d find out when he got there.

Meanwhile Robert had been working tirelessly. It’d been a couple months since he first revealed his plans about the Neural Link to Phenomaman and it finally appeared ready for testing. Not a moment too soon either. SDN was breathing down his neck more than ever in regards to Phenomaman. He hadn’t told them or anyone else about his secret project so all they saw was Phenomaman’s lack of improvement under Robert’s leadership. He’d been fighting like hell to keep that sad puppy of an alien on the team but it was becoming an uphill battle. Fortunately his many sleepless nights might finally pay off.

Once his allotted time at HeroCon was up, Phenomaman flew back to SDN’s Dispatch HQ where Robert was waiting. Before long he was strolling into Robert’s lab just as he had many times over the past few months. He’d assumed it would just be more tests. Last time it was a full body scan to get an in depth map of Phenomaman’s nervous system. Robert had gotten him to strip down into his underwear under the claim that his costume might interfere with the scanner. Naturally.

“Robert Robertson. You requested my presence?” Phenomaman asked as the door slid shut behind him.

Robert was quick to usher him inside. “Yuuuuuup. Come on in quickly.” He said, not even taking a moment to look away from his computer screen. “Just take a seat. I’m almost done here.” He added while typing up some final notes.

“Of course.” Phenomaman sat on a wheely office chair adjacent to Robert. He seated himself politely at first, hands in his lap with his legs spread not too far apart. But as Robert typed, he couldn’t help scuffing his boots on the floor a little, causing the chair to twist slightly. Before long he was humming to himself while innocently pinning in circles.

Robert had to try not to laugh as he finished typing the last of his notes. For being an all powerful alien superhero, it was pretty funny seeing Phenomaman do the exact same kind of weird stuff humans do. In an odd way it made him even more attractive, if not simply endearing.

“Alright. So I’ve got some very exciting news to share.” Robert said, turning to the still spinning Phenomaman after saving his notes. He waited for the hero to stop before continuing on. “Today I haven’t just called you in for a test. You’re here so we can perform the very first trial run on the Neural Link! How’s that sound?” Robert explained with a massive grin that did little to hide his excitement for what was to come.

Phenomaman’s mouth hung open in shock. “W-wait. Really?” He searched Robert’s expression for a moment as if trying to detect whether this was some sort of prank. “I cannot believe it. This is amazing news!”

“Yeah even I’m surprised. I initially thought something like this would take me years but I suppose I wasn’t giving myself enough credit.” Robert couldn’t help shamelessly patting himself on the back a little. “I’ve run hundreds of simulations on the most recent prototype of the Neural Link using the scans I took of our brains and bodies. So far every simulation has come back with positive results.”

“So… does that mean…” Katon-Ur looked over at the helmet-like device that was still hooked up to Robert’s computer. It sat alongside what looked like a small earpiece that was no doubt the receiver he would have to wear.

Robert jumped up from his chair and slapped Phenomaman on the back. “It does.” He too glanced over the device with pride. “Today’s the day where I get to find out what it’s like to walk in your massive boots.”

Phenomaman squinted at Robert, slightly confused. “You… can try them on now if you wish.”

Robert laughed. “It’s just an expression Katon-Ur.” Though to be honest he almost wished he’d taken up the offer for a second. He’d always wondered how those boots must smell after so many hours flying around and fighting crime… ah well. If all went well he’d eventually get the chance to find out. “What I mean is that I’ll get to see through your eyes for the first time pretty soon. If the trial goes well of course.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.” Phenomaman hummed.

Soon after the air became charged with anticipation. Robert’s heart was practically beating out of his chest as he ran some final checks on the device to make sure everything was in working order. He had to adjust his crotch a few times as he thought about how close he was now to experiencing that godly body. Katon-Ur on the other hand was tapping his foot somewhat nervously as he watched from afar.

It wasn’t long before Robert had everything set up. He booted up the system and double checked that all the contingency measures were active just in case anything went wrong. With that the Neural Link helmet was primed and ready to be activated. All Robert had to do now was sit down and put it on. But first…

“Here. Put this in your left ear, same as you would with your communicator.” Robert handed Phenomaman the Neural receiver prototype. It looked like a strange tech savvy earpiece.

“This is the device that will connect you to my brain, yes?” Phenomaman asked to confirm, trying to remember all that Robert had explained to him previously.

Robert nodded. “It is. Don’t worry though. Once the process starts you shouldn’t feel any pain. Maybe a little dizzy but that’s all.”

Phenomaman stared down at the tiny earpiece. He couldn’t believe something so tiny could be capable of so much. He carefully raised it up to his ear and pushed it into place, making sure it was nice and secure.

With that there was only one thing left to do. Robert gave Phenomaman a thumbs up before retreating to his chair. He powered up the Neural Link and watched as it buzzed to life. Sensors all around the helmet lit up, giving it an ethereal blue glow. Almost like it was pulsing with life somehow. The system was already primed to initiate the transfer program so all they had to do now was… go for it.

Robert grabbed the helmet before looking over to Phenomaman. He could see the apprehension beginning to bleed through Katon-Ur’s features. “I’m gonna put this on now. Are you sure you’re ready? You seem a bit worried.”

Phenomaman nodded again slowly. “Y-yes. My apologies. I’m just not used to feeling vulnerable in this way.” Despite his fragile heart and emotions being a constant weak spot for him, he’d never had to worry about himself in a physical sense. He was never made to feel like he couldn’t control his surroundings. His strength, size and speed made sure of that. Until now. It was the first time in forever that Katon-Ur had felt truly vulnerable by putting his wellbeing in the hands of another. He couldn’t be blamed for feeling uncomfortable. “Please. Go ahead. I will not allow myself to hinder your experiment. If you believe it to be safe then I trust your judgment.” He added, trying to convince himself more than anything.

“Okay. In that case, let’s do it.” Of course Robert was nervous too. No matter how confident he was in his work, testing something like this would always be a little scary the first time. Thankfully the excitement and adrenaline pumping through his veins right now were more than enough to allow his hands to move and lower the Neural Link onto his head. As soon as it was in place, the device got to work.

Robert’s brainwaves and consciousness was immediately plugged into the system, causing him to jolt back in his seat. His thoughts felt scattered and fragmented, as if his mind had been cracked wide open and was spilling right out of his head. But the most chilling part of it all was the sudden disconnect from all five of his senses. He couldn’t smell, hear, see, taste or feel anything at all. It was as though the physical world had just fallen away and all that was left was his disembodied consciousness.

“R-Robert…?” Phenomaman muttered as the smaller man’s body quickly fell unresponsive. He couldn’t even see the way his earpiece began to glow in sync with Robert’s helmet. “Are you alri-igauuuuhhhhhhh…” His worries trailed off into a long mind numbing groan. In an instant his eyes grew vacant as his mouth hung slightly agape. Yet he didn’t collapse. Instead he stood perfectly still almost like a deactivated robot receiving a software update.

Even though the link was made, Robert’s mind wasn’t uploaded straight away. The Neural Link needed an extra minute or two to confirm the stability of its connection to the receiver before sending Robert across the bridge to his new body.

As it did, Robert found himself slipping into what felt like a dream. In it he was alone in his apartment. It seemed normal enough at first. Everything was right where it was supposed to be with the exception of a single item. On the far wall hung a lengthy mirror that didn’t belong. Natural curiosity drew Robert closer until he was able to see his reflection in the glass. Except… it wasn’t his reflection. It wasn’t even his apartment on the other side. Instead the mirror peered out into what seemed to be outer space and the man who stared back at him definitely wasn’t himself. It was… Phenomaman. Just floating there in the vast emptiness as far off stars glimmered behind him.

Robert lifted an arm and Phenomaman did the same. He tilted his head and the hero copied. No matter what he did, the hunk seemed to mimic his every movement. Curiously, Robert moved closer to the mirror until his face was only inches away from Phenomaman's, their gazes locked. They stayed there for a long moment until he reached out his hand. Phenomaman copied. They touched both sides of the mirror at the exact same moment… and then the floodgates opened.

Their perspectives flipped rapidly. One second Robert was standing in his apartment, the next he was floating in space. One moment he was huge, the next he was scrawny again. He’d be wearing Phenomaman’s suit and then he’d find himself back in his own clothes. It should’ve been dizzying but instead it was oddly soothing. As if his mind was being rocked gently back and forth. Until finally… he woke up.

Robert gasped as all of his lost senses came flooding back. Only now everything felt so wonderfully wrong. He immediately noticed how much smaller everything seemed. He towered over nearby desks and equipment that’d never before seemed so puny. He felt heavier too. So much heavier. Even the way his lungs expanded with every breath felt different. More powerful somehow. His brain took note of it all. Even the tiniest, most mundane sensations that’d normally be tuned out as background noise felt new and unfamiliar. All the way down to the beat of his heart and how its rhythm seemed completely different to what he’d known all his life. It was overwhelming but also exhilarating in a way that made his head spin.

He must’ve stood completely still for a good thirty seconds or so as he tried to adjust. But finally he allowed his neck to move. Turning his head left to right in a motion that shouldn’t have felt as alien as it did. His eyes fluttered as they absorbed more of his surroundings and how different everything seemed. Not just in terms of size but colour too. The shades and hues that made up the laboratory around him looked much more vibrant than ever before. But the thing that shocked him the most was how clear everything was. There was a poster on the wall across the room. Normally Robert would have to squint to read it but now it was crystal clear.

All things pointed to what he knew to be true. That he was standing in the body of the man who’d haunted his wet dreams. But he couldn’t bring himself to look down yet. In case somehow, someway, he was just imagining all this. Perhaps having gone insane due to his obsession with that stupidly attractive alien.

But then he saw himself. Or rather he saw what should’ve been his body. It was slumped in the same chair he remembered sitting in moments ago. The helmet was still on its head, glowing softly. He saw his former eyes looking straight ahead, half lidded and vacant as if the soul behind them had been ripped away. And, for all intents and purposes, it had. His consciousness was no longer inside that body. No thoughts. No emotions. No memories. Because… they were all here. With him. In what could only be a different body. And there was only one body it could be.

Robert slowly tilted his head down, his unfamiliar heart pounding even faster as his gaze began to shift until finally he saw it. That iconic blue body suit was practically painted onto him alongside the matching red belt. That huge red and gold collar sitting wide across his shoulders and covering most of his chest. Those red armoured cuffs that struggled to contain a pair of gigantic forearms that almost didn’t seem real. And those tall powerful red boots… now on his feet. He was wearing Phenomaman’s suit! And it actually fit!! Of course that only made sense considering the massive body underneath the tight costume was none other than Katon-Ur’s god-like frame.

“H-holy shit…” Robert muttered. His mouth dried up the second he was able to comprehend his newfound physique. He noticed his arms before anything else, the lack of sleeves made sure of that. Where he was used to seeing spindly appendages not much bigger than noodles, now hung two enormous columns of thick brawny muscle. They almost didn’t seem real and yet they moved to Robert’s whim. Giant burly biceps bunching slightly as he raised a pair of giant weathered hands up towards his face. “My arms… Jesus… fuck.” He muttered as he twisted and turned each arm, examining the sheer mass and density of them both with nothing but wonder in his eyes. Watching the way veins corded along the muscle with every subtle flex. Gasping slightly at the way his triceps flared with every extension or how his forearms bulged underneath the armoured cuffs, threatening to burst through them every time he clenched a fist. He could already sense the amount of raw power flowing through each of them, seeming infinite yet somehow contained.

Robert’s expression slowly began to shift towards a grin and as it did he could feel the mustache on his upper lip curve with his mouth. Phenomaman’s mustache. He hadn’t noticed it until now but as soon as he did, the paws he now called hands flew up to towards his face and began touching every inch of his visage. Feeling the stache first before deviating to his other features. Examining his wider jaw and how his broader nose seemed to curve differently. His eyebrows seemed bushier and his lips were a bit plumper too. Even his ears seemed a different shape. All of it served to shatter the reality Robert once knew. It was disorienting to say the absolute least but that didn’t stop him from stumbling across the lab in an effort to find anything reflective to confirm what his new hands were feeling.

In the process he struggled to control his strength. Every step caused the laboratory to rumble. Tools and utensils rattled as the floor cracked under Robert’s new boots. He tried to control it but his thighs and calves were so packed with godly-like strength that it seemed almost impossible to move without making small craters in the shape of his boots. It made Robert wonder how the hell Phenomaman managed to move around everyday with such care as if he were human like them.

He stopped for a moment to take a breath and gather himself. As he did he couldn’t help allowing his focus to shift down towards his legs. Just like his arms, they were pillars of pure muscle. They strained heavily enough against the pants of the body suit that it was still possible to make out the hard ridges along his quads. It was something Robert had always found himself admiring whenever Phenomaman was in the room with him if ever he was able to tear his eyes away from those gorgeous biceps long enough. Only now… they were his legs. Massive, long, beyond powerful and now under his command. The very same thighs he could’ve happily died between. Not to mention the diamond calves he would’ve worshipped for hours, now bulging at the slightest shift in his weight. And below even them Robert couldn’t help but think about how huge his feet were now as he stared down at those boots. The very same boots that would’ve hung loose on him like clown shoes before. Yet now they were snug and warm with musk. A shiver ran up his spine as he flexed his toes inside of them.

“Okay. Just breathe. Nice and steady.” Robert told himself as he tried taking another step, this time trying his best to be careful and measured. The floor still cracked a little when he put his full weight down but not as much as before. It was an improvement at least. He continued to move carefully around the room until finally he reached a small handheld mirror. He tried to be gentle with it but he barely got to see himself before crushing the handle on accident, causing the glass to shatter.

When he eventually found another small mirror, he didn’t risk picking it up. Instead he leaned over and stared down into it. Despite already knowing it, he wasn’t prepared to actually see the gorgeous mug of Phenomaman reflected back at him. The sight made him briefly remember the dream he’d had during the transfer. Only this time he really was Phenomaman on both sides of the glass. That dumb himbo face was actually his!

“I really a-am him… My device a-actually worked.” Robert stuttered. It was more obvious by this point but saying the words out loud finally made it feel real. “I’M PHENOMAMAN!” He shouted in Katon-Ur’s powerful voice as he couldn’t help but allow another prideful smirk to split across his face.

It took every ounce of willpower for Robert to not start freaking out with unfiltered excitement. His instinct was to start groping every inch of Phenomaman’s body now that it was under his control. To finally squeeze and kiss these biceps like he’d imagined so many. To grab at his pecs and massage them for all they were worth. And… his ass. He hadn’t even thought about it until that moment but he owned Katon-Ur’s bubbly cheeks now as well! He just wanted to reach back and give them the groping of a lifetime. But he couldn’t. Not yet anyway. Mostly because Robert wasn’t sure if Katon-Ur was still aware of what was happening right now. He had no idea if he was just watching from the passengers seat as Robert took the controls or if Katon-Ur was none the wiser. Better to be safe than sorry for now.

Though just because he couldn’t go crazy didn’t mean he couldn’t still appreciate his borrowed body out of ‘professional curiosity’. And so, slowly but surely, Robert raised each of his arms up into the classic double bicep pose before flexing them hard. I mean come on, who wouldn’t? Now that he finally had the chance to get inside this huge beefy body, of course he was going to get the clichés out of the way. And once again he could feel the impossible power flooding every fibre of muscle as his arms hardened like diamonds under the tension. He proceeded to keep the left arm flexed for a moment longer as he used his right hand to poke at the tensed tricep before giving this bicep a squeeze.

Before long his attention dropped to his chest. Up until now the armoured collar had covered it just enough for him to not get distracted at the sight of two massive muscle tits every time he looked south. But he knew they were there and it wasn’t long before his hands proved that. He carefully allowed them to glide along his cobbled abs first before rising up towards his chest. Slowly allowing his hands to move underneath that red and gold collar piece and cup the heavy pecs it was hiding. He hefted them gently as they struggled against the tight material that contained them. He even grazed Phenomaman’s surprisingly sensitive nipples, the likes of which sent a flash of heat towards his groin in a way his former nipples never had. He immediately wanted to touch them more. To rip his clothes off right now and start tweaking his nipples until…

The crotch of his pants began to grow tight.

Robert’s heartbeat increased again. Sweat began to bead along his forehead as he glanced down at his groin to see an enlarged bulge. Despite Katon-Ur being an alien, the bulge seemed ‘cock shaped’ enough for him to assume whatever the hero kept hidden in his pants was at the very least some form of phallus. That said… as his crotch continued to grow tighter and tighter, he quickly began to realise why Blonde Blazer had considered their genitals to be incompatible. It just kept getting bigger to an almost comical degree. The obscene outline only grew thicker and longer as it throbbed with an intensity that would’ve put Robert’s human dick to shame. When it finally stopped engorging, Robert couldn’t even begin to guess how long the thing was. Too long probably. But despite how completely bizzare it was, that only made Robert want to touch it more. He almost did as well. He could practically feel his hand vibrating as he fought against the urge to reach down and stroke along the visible outline of his new outer space alien dick.

Instead Robert was able to act as though it was an honest mistake which technically it was. Averting his gaze as he apologised verbally to the real and potentially spectating Phenomaman.

“Okay… so clearly the Neural Link works.” Robert said aloud, enjoying the way his words rumbled with Katon-Ur’s voice, now laced with the kind of intelligence the dumb hero never could’ve displayed. “No complications so far. My mind seems to be intact and my control over this body appears to be stable. My senses are a little weird but that’s probably just the difference in alien biology.” Beyond just the way his new eyes saw the world, his hearing was also much sharper than before and his nose picked up on scents he never would’ve noticed before. It was as though all of his senses had been sharpened to the extreme. “Strength is definitely gonna take some getting used to though.” He added as he glanced down at his biceps again. “Probably won’t be heading into the field like this anytime soon.”

It was only then that something dawned on him. If he was in Phenomaman’s body then by all means he should be able to fly. The realisation made his alien heart skip a beat. Only… he had no idea how. He hadn’t even thought to ask Katon-Ur how it worked. It seemed to come so naturally to the hero but Robert couldn’t even figure out how to hover. He tried closing his willing his body to lift off the ground. Nothing. He tried tensing every enormous muscle in his body. Nothing. He almost tried jumping just to see if he could somehow remain in the air but stopped himself when he realised his newfound strength might cause him to accidentally jump straight through the roof. Instead, as much as he wanted to know how it felt to fly without a mech suit and rocket boosters, he shelved the idea for now.

In reality Robert should’ve already ended the takeover after he deemed the trial run a success but he couldn’t help taking the opportunity to savour the body of Phenomaman just a little longer. Not to mention he wanted to make sure this loaned cock was fully flaccid before handing control back over to its true owner. As such he found himself running his hands though his slightly longer, slicked back hair. Taking a moment to admire the width of his frame as he took note of the way his lats forced his already massive arms even further out to the sides. Not to mention the enormity of his shoulders, the likes of which he hadn’t been able to admire fully yet either due to his costume obscuring them in a similar fashion to his pecs. He simply continued to respectfully roam this form as respectfully as possible until the appendage between his legs had seemingly returned to normal.

“Alright Katon-Ur. If you can hear me, I’m going to switch off the receiver now.” Robert began as he raised a hand up towards his ear. “When I do, the Neural Link will shut down and we’ll return to normal.” With that he slowly moved a single finger towards the earpiece, aiming to press the button on the side. He did so as carefully and gently as possible so as not to accidentally break the tiny thing with his strength. Thankfully his caution paid off as he was able to press the button without any damage. And just like that the receiver stopped glowing, disconnecting itself from the helmet Robert’s real body was wearing.

Not even a second later, Robert’s vision began to blur. All of his newly enhanced senses dulled until he felt, saw and heard nothing at all. Once again reduced to thoughts alone before even they were broken and scattered. His consciousness was swiftly dragged back through the invisible space between the two bodies until finally it was slammed back into his original brain again. The reversal process was much faster than the initial transfer. Not enough time to dream or hallucinate like before. Instead Robert found himself blinking awake again in his regular ol’ human body.

Across the room Phenomaman slowly shook his head as he came back around as well. He stumbled around a little, seeming disoriented and a little confused. Though, unlike when Robert was in control, the hazy steps he took in order to regain his sense of balance didn’t result in further damage to the floor. He held his head for a moment in an attempt to gather himself before glancing up at Robert.

Their gazes met in a way that felt strangely connected and almost a little trippy after the experience they’d gone through. As if for a moment their minds couldn’t tell if they were staring at another person or at themselves.

“W-what happened?” Phenomaman groaned. “Robert?”

After catching his own bearings, Robert slowly lifted the helmet off his head before carefully placing it aside. “The test was successful.” He stated, still in a state of astonishment himself about the whole thing. He stood slowly, his legs wobbling a little as he readjusted to limbs that weren’t the size of tree trunks. He went on to explain to Phenomaman that he’d just been inside the hero’s body for a good ten minutes or so and that there didn’t seem to be any complications with the process. “Do you remember any of it?” He asked.

Katon-Ur thought for a long moment before responding. “I am… not sure? I remember you placing the helmet on top of your head. After that it is all a bit unclear but… I remember feeling enamoured. I believe that is the word. It was like the love I would feel for another person but instead that love was directed at myself.” Katon-Ur recounted the experience in whatever fuzzy detail he could dig up. “And at some point I remember feeling this heat. It was pleasant. But it also felt like some kind of taboo. I could not begin to explain why.” He went on to tell Robert of all the other strange sensations he’d experienced in the small time he’d been possessed and the more he spoke of them, the more Robert realised what it meant. “But the strangest part was that none of these feelings felt like they were coming from me. It was like they were… falling onto me? I am not sure how to describe it.”

Robert stroked his chin while trying to convey a reasonable level of nonchalance after what just happened. “That’s definitely odd. Are you sure you didn’t see anything? Could you not see what I was seeing while using your eyes?”

Phenomaman shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. It was just feelings.”

“Hmmm.” Robert's eyes danced over Phenomaman’s body again briefly. It was hard to believe he’d been commanding all that size and muscle mere moments ago. “The only theory I can think of is that maybe you were experiencing some kind of backwards ripple from my own feelings and emotions. Whatever I was feeling, you also felt in a second hand capacity.” It made sense with what Phenomaman had described. The self-love. The heat. The excitement. It added up. “Of course we don’t know for sure. It could be a number of things. Best not to assume too much after just one test.”

“That sounds wise.” Phenomaman agreed. “So? How did it go on your side Robert? Did this trial reach an acceptable standard of success?” He asked as he glanced around at the room. Taking note of the heavily cracked floor as well as the smashed hand mirror.

Robert scratched the back of his head as he struggled to maintain eye contact. “Uhhhhhh… yeah. Yeah it was acceptable. I suppose.” He tried his best to hide the small blush forming on his cheeks. “For all intents and purposes, the trial was successful. The neural link did exactly what it was built to do. My mind was projected into your body without any noticeable flaws or complications. None that I picked up on anyway. I’ll have to look back over the data from both the helmet and your receiver to confirm.” Robert placed his hands on his hips as took note of the mess he’d made around the lab while inside that god-like body. “But my control over your strength is a different matter. I could barely walk in your body without almost crashing through the floor. You really deserve a whole lot more credit for the way you’re able to restrain yourself around the rest of us.”

Katon-Ur smiled at that. “I appreciate the compliment but honestly I do not put much thought into it. I simply adjust my strength accordingly.” He demonstrated by jumping on the spot a little, each bounce landing lighter than a feather on the ground. “See?”

“I guess it just comes naturally to you. Makes sense.” Robert commented. “Hopefully it’ll come naturally to me as well with enough time and practice.”

Phenomaman strolled over and gave Robert a hearty pat on the back. “I have no doubt you will, Robert Robertson. You are the smartest man I know. Before long you’ll be soaring through the skies just as I do.” He roared with that classic enthusiasm most ordinary people knew him for.

“Oh right that’s another thing! You’ll have to explain to me how flying works. I tried to float or at least hover off the ground a little but I couldn’t get it to work. I was also afraid of making an even bigger mess if I tried too hard.”

The muscle bound alien pouted slightly. “Huh. It did not occur to me that you would not understand how to fly. To me it is as simple as walking or running.” His pout soon turned to a smirk. “Does this mean that I get to be the one that teaches and you be my student?”

Robert chuckled. “I suppose so, yeah. If there’s one thing you know more about than me, it’s how your body works.” Moments after the words left his mouth however, Robert realised how it might’ve sounded. “Oh shit… I didn’t mean-gah I sound like an asshole.”

Katon-Ur’s face softened slightly. “You need not apologise Robert. You are correct. Despite my effort over these last few months, my intelligence still leaves much to be desired.” He sighed.

“Still though. I know you’ve been trying really hard. It’s more than most would do in your position. Especially on the Z-Team. I’m sure you’ll hit your academic stride soon enough.”

“Thank you Robert.” Phenomaman’s eyes seemed to light up slightly at that. “That means a lot to me.”

Robert shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

Though if Robert was being truly honest with himself, there was a small selfish part of him that hoped Phenomaman would remain a himbo forever. Perhaps it was a cruel thing to hope for but he couldn’t help himself. On one hand he genuinely liked Katon-Ur and wanted him to succeed and not have to rely on Robert taking his place just to appear competent. On the other hand, he wanted as many excuses as possible to keep using the Neural Link to tap into that body. Just one short experience already had him craving more. So in that sense the longer Phenomaman remained a hopeless himbo, the better.

“There is one other thing I know more about than you though…” Katon-Ur waggled his eyebrows a little.

“Let me guess. Magic The Gathering?” Robert replied in an even monotone but not unkind.

The hero looked surprised for a second. “It… it is! How did you know what I was going to say? Could it be that your brain linking technology has allowed you the ability to read my thoughts?”

Robert couldn’t help but chuckle. “No big guy. It’s just painfully obvious from how often you talk about it. It’s like your special interest.”

“I do not think I talk about it that often…”

“Phenomaman. I tuned into your communicator a few times while you were at HeroCon earlier today. On more than one occasion I heard you talking to people about your collection and all your different decks.”

Katon-Ur twiddled his thumbs a little. “I just think it is a fun game.” He said with those big sad puppy dog eyes.

Robert smiled and shook his head. “Yeah. I suppose it is.”

———

Only a couple of days after the first trial had been a success, Robert had been eager to get Phenomaman in for another test. The second trial went just as smoothly as the first in regards to the transfer itself, perhaps more so. Robert once again found himself inhabiting the gargantuan body of the strongest being on the planet. The experience hadn’t been any less erotic either. To look down and flex those meaty paws that could crush just about anyway. To remove that collar and see those pecs still partially blocking his view further south. All he wanted to do was touch and worship every inch of it all. He’d done so the first time but it was like a drug tempting him to go further. Tempting him to explore deeper and touch parts of this body he’d only ever dreamt of. And now that he knew Katon-Ur was practically unconscious, there was really nothing holding him back.

Except guilt of course. As much as he wanted to grope the body of Phenomaman for all it was worth, he still tried his utmost to restrain himself. The idea of using this body in such a perverse way couldn’t help but tug on his morality. He knew it wasn’t right. Even if he had gone through with this project for selfish reasons, he couldn’t really push it that far could he? What would that make him? Robert was supposed to be a hero too. An example even when nobody else was around to see. There was even a small part of him that thought he should terminate the project altogether. Fortunately he was able to quell that voice by telling himself that he was doing it all for Katon-Ur’s benefit, even if he happened to be getting some personal fulfillment out of it. In truth though, now that he’d experienced this body, he’d would’ve told himself just about anything to justify coming back.

He spent most of the second session trying to get a handle on his movement. Moving very slowly around the testing area of the lab to begin with until he managed to take normal steps without breaking the floor beneath him. He still had to focus pretty hard but he was getting there. He also tried picking up and holding a few basic objects he’d set up, starting with ones that were rather sturdy. The task being to hold them without breaking, cracking or crushing them. That was certainly the harder chore of the two. He spent well over an hour destroying all kinds of things with his bare hands. Most of which were accidental but a few times he found himself using his newfound strength to mold and bend some of the toughest materials he had as if they were play dough. The sheer rush he got from doing that was unlike anything else. To not only know but actually see what the power he now held could do.

Needless to say, despite trying to keep a lid on himself, Robert at multiple points found himself pitching a huge tent against the surprisingly elastic material of Phenomaman’s costume. Each one being even harder to ignore than the last. Literally. He’d allowed his hand to graze along the outline once or twice while he readjusted himself for comfort’s sake but he’d stopped himself from going any further.

By the end Robert had spent hours trying to control his strength and he was semi-successful in that endeavour. He’d managed to pick up at least one of the delicate items without breaking it and he was starting to get a handle on walking. It might not seem like much but it was more progress than he’d expected honestly. He was satisfied enough to end the second session with that. But not before reaching back and grabbing a cheeky handful of that phenomenal ass.

“How was it Robert? Were you successful in learning to control my overwhelming might and the movement of my robust masculine body?” Katon-Ur asked shortly after coming back around, flashing his biceps a little as he put on some of that signature Phenomaman charm.

Robert shrugged. “A little I guess. I’m gonna need a lot more practice before I’m ready to start stepping in for you though.” He tried his best not to stare too intensely at the bicep so as not to give away just how much he wanted to run his tongue over it. Especially after having just experienced it as his own. “It might be best if we do these tests everyday from now on so we can speed along my progress. Or every other day at least.” There was genuine logic behind what Robert was suggesting despite the secondary reasons he had for wanting more of that body.

“Everyday huh?” Phenomaman seemed hesitant for a moment. “Seems a bit much but I guess if you think that’s best then…”

“Trust me. The quicker I’m able to adjust to being inside your body, the better chance we have at keeping you here at SDN.” Robert explained as convincingly as he could. It seemed to do the trick as he watched the hero’s face soften moments later.

———

The next day came fast. Both Robert and Phenomaman would complete their shift for the day before meeting up in the lab as they frequently did. By this point some of the other members on the Z-Team had begun to catch on that the two of them had been meeting after hours. They would talk about it over the comms during shifts, trying to get one of them to confess what they were doing. Usually this resulted in most of the group teasing them about hooking up (a prospect Robert would’ve been totally fine with had it been true) when neither would spill the beans. Of course Invisgal was the only one who knew the truth but she’d kept her word of secrecy so far by acting none the wiser.

It wasn’t long before Robert was booting up the Neural Link again, excitedly pulling the helmet over his head as soon as Katon-Ur had activated his receiver earpiece. One thrilling spin of the world later and Robert found himself blinking through the eyes of superhero crush yet again.

Only after Robert had gotten out his initial lust for this form by squeezing his pecs, flexing his arms and dragging his fingers over Katon-Ur’s gorgeous face, did he get on with what he was supposed to be doing. Starting off with more of the same from last time. Practicing his control over Phenomaman’s power both in terms of movement and how he interacted with objects. He did a little better than last time. Still a couple cracks in the testing room floor as well as a fair few broken items but certainly less than last time. After that though, he thought he’d give something else a try.

Robert took some long deep breaths before slowly making his way across the lab and towards the exit door, careful with every step. Once there he took a quick glance into the nearest reflective surface he could find to make sure he looked fairly presentable, probably a bad idea as he then spent an extra minute fighting away another erection just from seeing that mustache and those piercing eyes under his control. But once he was ready, the door slid open and he stepped out into one of the many corridors on the tech floor of SDN. He barely made it a few paces before he was passed by a couple of staff members Robert recognised as evening shift workers who helped with maintenance and such like. He didn’t know their names. The interaction he’d had from the few times he’d crossed paths with them as a quick nod or a polite smile. But not this time.

“Hey! Wassup Phenomaman!” The younger of the two beamed. “Saw the save you made downtown today with that scary demon chick. You two rocked! Really sent that freaky thing flying.”

Robert was a bit taken aback. He remembered the incident, being the person who dispatched Phenomaman and Melavola to deal with a Kaiju. It’d risen from the ocean and started wreaking havoc on land. Phenomaman had worked on getting the civilians to safety while Melavola kept the monster distracted. Once the area was secure Robert had ordered Phenomaman to switch to offence. Phenomaman pummeled the monster effortlessly before dragging it by its tail back towards the shore. He then performed a hammer throw on the creature that sent it flying back out into the sea. It was quite the spectacle.

“Oh uhmm… yes thank you. I was just doing my best to uhh… keep the city safe. Like always haha.” Robert stumbled over his words terribly in a pretty awkward attempt at trying to sound like Katon-Ur. All the while he found himself really putting into perspective the depths of his power in this body. That Kaiju had to have weighed tens of thousands of tonnes and yet Katon-Ur had spun that thing around as if it weighed nothing more than a small sack of potatoes. It almost felt unreal that he was capable of something like that without barely breaking a sweat. And right now, Robert was too. His gigantic biceps twitched slightly at the thought.

“Hell yeah you are.” The older of the pair added. “I don’t care what anyone says, you’re one of the best heroes we got around here man. We’re lucky to have you.”

Robert blushed slightly, feeling a little embarrassed to be taking the credit for Katon-Ur’s hero work. Though he supposed if all went well then soon enough the opposite would be true. “You’re far too kind, gentlemen.” He paused briefly to try and think of what Katon-Ur might say in this situation. “I’m just trying to be… Phenomenal.” He bumbled slightly.

“Y-yeah. Yeah of course man. You totally are.” The older one responded, sensing the awkwardness a little now. “Well uh… have a great rest of your night dude. Awesome to see you.” He continued as the younger man beside him nodded along. They both gave Robert a friendly wave before continuing past him down the hall.

Robert took a second to process the interaction. It might’ve come off a bit stilted but for them to look at him the way they did, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced as Mecha-Man. Sure he had loads of fans as Mecha-Man, he couldn’t deny that, but never had anyone actually looked at him with the kind of genuine wonder those two guys had. It was as if his mere presence had put them both at ease. And they didn’t even question who he was. They just saw him as Phenomaman. That alone was enough to make his dick twitch.

Robert’s plan after that was to take a simple stroll around the SDN building. The challenge he’d set himself was to not break any of the floors or door handles on the way round. He figured he could pull off a passable impression of Phenomaman’s if one or two people stopped him to talk along the way. Simple right? Well that’s what he thought. As it turned out, his naïveté was swiftly punished when practically everyone he walked past either wanted to say hello, chat, take photos with him or all of the above. It wasn’t long before it felt like his flimsy impression was the thing really being challenged.

Needless to say he received countless strange looks and confused stares after many, many more stilted interactions. There were even a couple times where he had to awkwardly refuse handshakes simply out of fear that he may accidentally crush a hand. Robert didn’t realise just how many people in the building alone were infatuated with Phenomaman. It shouldn’t have been a surprise given his sky high popularity but he was still a little stunned by just how many people seemed to stare at him with pure adoration in their eyes. He supposed his perception had been warped by himself and the other people on the dispatching floor not fawning over the heroes nearly as much seeing as they worked with them directly. That said, he might not have been so bold to step out of the lab had he known he was going to be showered in so much attention that it would really put his acting skills to the test.

The worst only came however when he was approached by another young man nearby the cafeteria and boy did he lay it on thick. He was new apparently and explained how he’d always wanted to meet the Phenomaman in person. Going on to tell Robert how he’d been his inspiration for everything. Especially going to the gym. Saying how he dreamed of having a body as awesome as Robert's. A sentiment that the real Phenomeman might’ve wrongly interpreted as bullying due to the vastly different beauty standards of his home world that Robert still couldn’t wrap his head around. Instead Robert thanked the man again and again while putting on his best attempt at that Phenomaman charm. But by god the way this guy was raining praise down onto him soon began to light a fire in his loins. He’d never considered himself to have a praise kink but something about it felt different now. So much so that when the guy asked if he could flex his biceps for him, Robert could only do so for about a second or two before his dick started roaring to life.

Soon after he found himself fleeing for the bathroom after excusing himself and trying his utmost to cover the growing bulge. His panic caused him to leave a few dents in the floor before nearly taking the hinges off the bathroom door while hurrying inside. Thankfully there was nobody already inside to see the thick python snaking its way down one of his legs in a manner that was both embarrassing and ridiculously hot for Robert.

“Jesus Christ… how the hell does he keep this thing under control all the time.” Robert grumbled to himself, sounding more irritated by the erection than he actually was. In reality the sight of Katon-Ur’s third leg brought him immense joy, he just wished it didn’t chub up around other people. Not much he could do about it now though other than wait for it to go down.

Unless…

His eyes stayed transfixed on his bulge for a long moment. He could always just satisfy it, he thought. Whip it out. Get a good look at it for the first time. Then jerk it for all its worth until he busts Katon-Ur’s dumb himbo nut everywhere. “That’d get it to go down…” he murmured to himself while biting his lip.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Robert found one of his hands slipping down until it rested along the girthy outline. He gripped it gently before moving his palm back and forth along the cock shaped silhouette. Instantly sparks of pleasure came shooting up his spine. It was a sensitive thing, he knew that much. Just like his nipples. But god if just running his hand along his cock didn’t make his eyes flutter and cause slow deep moan to escape his lips. It was enchanting to the point where he found himself bucking his hips instinctively into his own grasp, as if this body was desperate for him to milk it while its real owner slept. And he really wanted to. God he really fucking wanted to. But by the sheer miracle of will power, he stopped.

“I can’t do this…” Robert told himself. “I shouldn’t.” He swallowed long and hard as he had to force himself to let go of the now throbbing bulge. If he didn’t then he knew he would’ve been seconds away from actually whipping the damn thing out and if he’d done that then he might not have been able to stop himself.

With how excited he’d gotten, it took quite some time before he was finally able to quell his cock again. All the while he’d kept the door shut simply by leaning against it as gently as possible so as to stop anyone from walking in on him. Only once he looked… presentable again did he step back out into the hallways of SDN, trying to appear as ordinary as Phenomaman otherwise would have.

It wasn’t long before he was forced to resume the unwilling gauntlet of fans and admirers alike who were all too eager to get a word in. But he managed it somehow. Eventually being able to make his way back to the lab without causing anymore damage or raising too many eyebrows. It certainly ended up being a more difficult challenge than he’d intended but he was glad to have done it. All things considered, he did decently well if you were to ignore his little mishap in the bathroom.

Robert shuffled slowly back towards the testing area where his real body sat with the helmet still planted on its head. He knew he needed to finish up now. He’d done his practice for the day and he promised Katon-Ur that their session wouldn’t take long. Apparently he’d arranged a time to go and see those puppies he’d insisted on watching the birth of months ago. He’d seemed very excited about it so the last thing Robert wanted to do was keep him from that. But even so, Robert couldn’t help feeling this ache in his heart knowing that he had to give this up and go back to being a boring old human again. He’d felt it each time so far. It was as if Katon-Ur’s body was begging him not to leave. Whatever the case, he didn’t have a choice. Robert turned off the receiver in his ear and that was that. For now.

———

The following week, Robert found himself entering Katon-Ur’s body for the seventh time. The last three times he spent doing more of the same practice to control his power. Coming into the seventh session though, keeping a lid on his overflowing power didn’t seem like such a gargantuan task anymore. He still needed to focus a little and if he got distracted he still found himself breaking a few things but the progress he’d made was very promising. So much so that he’d decided to move onto something new. Something he’d been eager to try again since the first time he took over this super powered form. He wanted to figure out how to fly. Or at the very least make some headway.

He’d spoken to Katon-Ur about it many times since beginning these tests. Robert had been more than eager to hear whatever advice the alien might be able to offer him. Katon-Ur had a difficult time trying to explain how it worked at first. Unfortunately it was like trying to explain how walking works to a creature with no legs. To Katon-Ur it was natural. Innate. But to Robert, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend how it worked. But that didn’t stop them from trying to figure it out anyway. It took a lot of brainpicking alongside Robert examining Katon-Ur while he demonstrated but eventually he was able to come up with a theory. He could only deduce that, someway or another, the people from Katon-Ur’s world had the ability to control the gravitational forces surrounding their bodies. He wasn’t entirely sure how but… it was the only thing he could think of that made sense.

So here Robert was now, sitting cross legged on the floor of the testing area. Wearing only Phenomaman’s blue body suit and nothing else. Boots, cape and cuffs all discarded. His eyes were gently shut as he tried to relax his mind and borrowed body as best he could. Controlling his breathing while trying to clear any and all distracting thoughts. A task that proved difficult for him as one could imagine by now. Especially when he could feel the steady rise and fall of his enormous pecs with every slow breath he took. Sitting heavily on his chest like a pair of sweet succulent watermelons just begging for his attention. It wouldn’t have been the first time he gave into their call. So far he didn’t think he’d jumped into Katon-Ur’s body once without playing with his fat muscle tits at least a little bit. But right now he had to resist. He had to stay focused.

He tried his best to envision himself not as something that was bound to the gravity of Earth but rather as a separate entity altogether. He imagined commanding his will over the forces of Earth. Forcing them to bend and move to his whim. To carry him as he saw fit. Doing so, he began to sense a strange tingle from inside his brain. Almost like he was tapping into something completely new and unfamiliar to his human mind. He tried his best to grab hold of it as tight as he could. Savouring the way Katon-Ur’s alien neurons began to fire in a way that felt familiar to the body even if it seemed foreign to the mind occupying it.

Something shifted in the air around Robert. As if it’d become charged with something unique. Something commanding as the shackles of gravity from the planet beneath him started to crack and fall away. Slowly but surely he was becoming his own centre of gravity.

The floor he’d been sitting on almost seemed to fall away from him. But he didn’t fall with it. The human part of him wanted to panic but he kept his focus, eyes still closed, as he slowly uncrossed his legs. They didn't scrape across the floor as he did. Instead he found himself able to stretch them fully until it was almost like he was standing. And yet his feet hung in space with nothing beneath them.

Had he done it? His human mind didn’t want to believe it but the sensation seemed to speak for itself. All Robert could do was take a slow shaky breath before finally opening his eyes again.

“O-ohhhh… ohhh my…” He stared down in disbelief. He was still in the lab. Still in the testing area. Still in Katon-Ur’s body. Except now…

He was floating.

It wasn’t much. His feet were only a few inches off the ground but… HE WAS FUCKING FLYING! Needless to say the biggest grin you could imagine broke out across Robert’s face, his borrowed mustache twisting upwards with glee. Pure unfiltered excitement pumped through his every vein as he carefully kicked his feet back and forth with wonder.

“I-I-I can’t b-believe it. This is… this is… wow. I’m f-floating.” He could barely form the words to express the sheer extent of his amazement. His body didnt seem to have any trouble expressing it though as blood immediately started to rush south. He was so dazzled by the fact that he was floating that he didn’t even notice his growing bulge until it was already too late to stop. “Gahhh-fuck…” he grumbled, though he couldn’t bring himself to be truly upset by the sight.

By this point, getting at least one uncontrollable erection every time he possessed Phenomaman had become a given. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, Robert’s perverted desires would win out sooner or later and he’d find himself struggling to keep his hands away from the monstrous tent his otherworldly cock would inevitably pitch. But so far he's remained good. As desperately as he’d wanted to, he was able to stop himself from ripping off Katon-Ur’s hero suit and beating the fuck out of his meat. He told himself that he had to respect this body and prove he wasn’t a creep.

He told himself to ignore it but that was always easier said than done. Especially when it throbbed with the kind of insatiable need that Robert’s human cock couldn’t hope to replicate. He bit the inside of his cheek as he stared down at the hefty outline, still floating as he did. He could feel a pulsing need behind his eyes as saliva began to build in his mouth. His heart pumping harder and faster in his chest while his head began to spin.

“I suppose… maybe… just one peek couldn’t hurt. As a uhhh… reward for flying.” Those were the forbidden words. “He won’t even know.” He mumbled meekly as if a part of him still acknowledged just how wrong it was. But that part wasn’t strong enough to stop him now that his perverted brain had found a flimsy excuse to justify what he was about to do.

There was a moment of hesitation as Robert’s hand moved towards the sleek red belt that connected the upper and lower half of the skin tight body suit. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t now. In his head, he’d already committed to it and there was nothing that was going to stop him as he loosed the belt and allowed it to fall to the floor.

For the first time he was able to peel the fabric up from around his abdomen to reveal Katon-Ur’s abs in all their glory. He’d touched them so many times through the suit but now he could finally feel the modest smattering of hair that coated them. The feeling only made his cock throb more. Especially as his hands wandered further up the underside of his suit and found his bare pecs. His breath hitched as he grabbed at the bulky flesh, finding it just as deliciously furry. And the moment he touched one of his nipples, it was like lightning had stuck his entire nervous system and forced his cock to buck so hard it almost burst out of its fabric constraints. He already knew Katon-Ur had some sensitive nipples but pinching them directly was something else entirely.

Once he’d had his fill of that, his attention swiftly returned to his crotch. How could it not when that angry cock was practically begging him for attention at this point in the only way it knew how. He steadily retracted his hands from underneath the tight shirt of his suit. One hand found itself hooking a thumb under the waistband of his tight blue pants while the other hand caressed his bulge gently. Massaging along the length before squeezing it generously. He could feel his balls too, sitting heavily underneath. Eagerly flooding him with hormones that only served to coax him along until he finally had the courage to do what he’d wanted to do since the first time he possessed this body.

He knew it was going to be big. That much was obvious by now. But even so, nothing could’ve quite prepared him for the sight he was about to witness when he stretched open the waistband at last.

“Holy FUCK!” The words just slipped out on their own but it was more than warranted after laying eyes on that monstrous member. Seeing the outline was one thing but actually seeing the cock itself was something else entirely. Before now the idea of Katon-Ur’s cock had, to a certain degree, remained a fantasy. But not now. Now Robert was seeing it in the flesh with his very own eyes, finding it hard to believe that thing was actually attached to him. The way it protruded from his groin in a way that was both seductively crude and dazzlingly beautiful. Robert could practically feel his pupils dilating with desire.

He pulled down his pants just enough for the terrifyingly large member to spring forth in all its splendour. Bobbing and pulsing between his legs in a way that was nothing short of hypnotic. Proven as much by the long moment where Robert simply floated in silence while staring down at the perfectly sculpted shaft with awe.

Robert could now confirm with absolute certainty that Katon-Ur’s cock looked just like any other human's. No tentacles or pincers or any other weird extra parts. It was just a cock. Except for the fact that it was fucking massive of course. It seemed ridiculous to say but the thing had to be nearly a foot length. Or at the very least around ten inches or so. As for girth? Ooooh boy. It was as thick as Katon-Ur’s wrist! No wonder Blonde Blazer had told him that their genitals weren’t compatible. This thing would’ve split her in two! Or anyone else for that matter. It was far too big for fucking but if anything that only made it all the more tantalising. Especially as some of Katon-Ur’s sweet creamy nectar began leaking from the bulbous tip of his cock in a long thin line of delicious drool.

He’d told himself he wasn’t going to touch it. That he was only going to look and that was it. But now that he’d gotten a good look, surely had to indulge a little too? As such Robert found one of his meaty hands wrapped around that gorgeous girthy shaft before he even knew what he was doing. Almost instantly he tossed his head back with a gleeful moan. Each pump sent vibrations across his entire body that caused his body hair to stand on end. So much so that his eyes began to flutter as he already began to lose himself in the pleasure. Quickly losing sight of all his morals in the process as his mind was overtaken by the aching need to touch himself. And that didn’t just apply to his cock.

Before he knew it Robert was lifting his free arm until his bicep was close enough for his mouth to worship it. He couldn’t help licking, kissing and even gently sinking his teeth into the firm muscle until it was wet with saliva. Soon after he moved onto his chest. Bouncing and groping at this huge hairy superhero tits after pulling the shirt up and behind his neck to reveal them fully at last. The dual stimulation of rubbing his nipples while jacking his giant cock was enough to make his knees go weak. Had he not still been floating, he probably would’ve been writhing on the floor by now.

“Ooohhhh-ohh-hhoooooo… g-goddd… mmmmphff.” Robert groaned, making Katon-Ur’s voice sound like a bitch in heat. “Feeeeeelsss… s-sooooo-mmmmphff… goooo-oooohhhh-ood…” He bit his lip in an effort to stifle his increasing moans thanks to the tiniest bit of rational thinking he had left. The walls were thick but they weren’t completely sound proof. It certainly wasn’t easy to minimise his outward expressions though when the ecstasy he found himself in was beyond anything else Robert had ever experienced. This cock might’ve been too big for sex but god just stroking it and worshipping himself already felt better than sex anyway!

He kept his pace steady. He could feel how eager his balls were to bust a nut but he didn’t want to cum too fast. Robert wanted to savour this experience. As such he even managed to stop stroking a couple of times even if just to wipe precum off the tip. Precum he would then bring up to his lips before eagerly licking off his fingers. He wasn’t sure if it was actually delicious or if it was just the knowledge that it was Phenomaman’s cum that made it taste so good. Either way he didn’t waste a second lapping it up before getting back into rhythm.

His body had managed to remain afloat purely out of muscle memory this whole time. And as he lost himself in the blissful sensations of his body, he almost didn’t notice how he’d begun to spin and roll through the air. Only realising when he opened his eyes at one point to find himself floating upside down while his cock dripped precum down onto face. He was quick to improvise by opening his mouth nice and wide to catch as much as possible.

“Ohhh… ohhh Jes-us… fuuuuckk.” He whimpered as his face twisted from pure lust into something even more pathetic and needy. Especially as cock began to grow even more sensitive to the touch. He was so damn close now he could feel it. His gorgeous muscles were beginning to tense rapidly. Even his asshole was twitching with desire as he imagined stuffing it full with this impossible dick. The mere thought of which already had his brain scheming to make a 3D mould of Phenomaman’s ass at some point for Robert to use as a flashlight. Both as himself and when he’s inside this body. But that was an idea for later.

He’d done well to hold onto his load for as long as he did but eventually Robert reached his breaking point. He didn’t have the strength to pull away anymore. All he could think about now was blowing his load as hard as possible. As such his grip tightened into a death lock as his pace got faster and faster. Before long he was using his super speed to jerk himself off so fast and aggressively that his hand was nothing more than a blur.

And then… It happened. With the way his eyes widened in the seconds leading up to it, you’d have thought he just met God.

“GGROOOOUUAAAHHHH!!” Robert roared with an unruly passion as cum exploded across his body and face, showering himself with a thick milky layer of seed belonging to the one and only Phenomaman. And before he knew it, Robert was licking cum off his chin and out of his mustache while heavy ropes continued to land across his pecs where it settled in his chest hair. If there was a heaven, Robert had just experienced the closest thing to it.

For a good long moment he just continued to float there. Almost naked. Painted in his own super hero semen. He was somewhat surprised to watch Katon’s Ur’s cock slowly soften back down until it’d miraculously shrunk to a flaccid size that actually looked rather normal by human standards. Following which he simply allowed himself to bask in the afterglow of the greatest moment in his entire life. That is until…

“So it does look human.” Said a familiar voice from barely a few paces ahead of him.

Robert’s half lidded eyes snapped open with pure horror as when he spun his head around to see Invisigal staring at his crotch.

“Well I suppose it’s like… XL human but still.” She pursed her lips slightly. “Maybe XXL actually.”

“H-holy fu-!” Robert flailed around in the air slightly before the panic caused him to plummet back onto the ground. His back slamming onto the floor in a way that might’ve been painful had he been practically indestructible. “C-C-Courtney! What the hell a-are you doing in here! How long have y-you…” Robert scrambled for the words, his tone sounding equal parts angry and humiliated. He was in quite the state. Phenomaman’s usually well kept hair and mustache looked frazzled and damp with sweat. The lower half of his body suit was pooling at his ankles. His pecs and abs were on full display. His handsome face was flushed a deep crimson as struggled to catch his breath, sweat mixing with cum to create an aroma that would’ve sent his old body into a frenzy. It wasn’t a state he could’ve imagined the real Phenomaman ever being caught in, being as innocent as he was.

“Chill out, I haven’t been here that long. Just long enough to know I was completely fucking right.” She snickered while sliding her hands into her pockets. “I knew you were only doing this weird body snatcher shit because you horny as fuck for Phenomaman.”

Robert turned his head away in embarrassment.

“Relaxxx. I’m not here to bust your balls or whatever. Looks like you’ve already done a good enough job of that yourself.” Invisgal continued on. “Or rather, Phenomaman’s balls since yours are actually over there.” She pointed a thumb at Robert’s real body across the room, still sleeping soundly. “I mean… you are Robert in there right?” She asked just to confirm what she already knew to be true.

“Y…yes.” Robert admitted sheepishly. “Please just… don’t tell anyone about this.”

Invisigal shrugged. “Sure. Wouldn’t wanna spoil a fellow pervert’s fun. Looked like you were having the time of your life up there.”

Robert stayed silent.

“Remind me again why you’ve decided to go the route of stealing Phenomaman’s body so that you can cover him with his own cum? You know… instead of just asking him out? Like I told you to.”

Robert stood again slowly, hands pointlessly covering his crotch out of instinct. “Because asking him out would be… unprofessional. I couldn’t-” he was cut off before he could finish.

“Righhhtttttt, yeah. Unprofessional. Mhm.” Invisigal nodded her head mockingly. “Unlike what you’re doing now of course which is super professional.” She rolled her eyes slightly. “Just admit I was right. Admit that you’re a weird horny perv that just wanted to be inside Phenomaman’s body.” Once again she displayed her ability to throw such accusations in a way that still felt banterous.

“Fine. Yes.” Robert mumbled. “I’ve had a crush on him for years. I kept it buried for the sake of professionalism. I convinced myself I was only doing this to help him but…” He looked down at the mess he’d made. “I just wanted to feel him so badly.”

Invisigal threw her hands up in the air mockingly. “See!? Was it that hard to just admit it?” It was clear she was getting far too much satisfaction out of this.

“Can you please go now…” Robert asked, sounding defeated.

“Sure whatever. Just make sure you clean up every last drop of man juice you so expertly spilled. Wouldn’t want the real Phenomaman to find out about the extra curricular activities you’ve been getting up to in his body, right?” She teased him as she made her way towards the exit to the lab. Just as she made it to the door however, she turned and looked over her shoulder at him one last time. “Also just fyi, I’m totally fingering myself to this tonight.” She didn’t even give Robert a chance to respond before strolling out, the door sliding shut behind her.

With that Robert was left standing there alone. Dripping with cum. Frozen with embarrassment until he was finally able to dig up the strength to start cleaning himself up.

———

A few more months had passed. Over that time Robert had possessed Katon-Ur’s body again and again as he practiced further control over it and its abilities. He’d eventually been able to get his strength in check to the point where he wasn’t scared to touch other people anymore out of fear of hurting them. He’d also made sure to practice his flight skills just as much until lifting off the ground felt natural to him.

With the basics mastered, Robert had moved on to some slightly more advanced stuff. Such as going outside to fly around in the sky above the SDN building instead. Testing his speed and altitude carefully. And when he wasn't flying around, he found himself practising his combat skills in one of the many training dojos around the building. The next step to mastering his strength would be to do so in the context of a battle. It was one thing to restrain himself when picking up a pen or grabbing a door handle but it was something else entirely to be able to restrain himself when winding up for a punch or a kick. In that sense it was less about just suppressing his power and more about knowing just how much of it to use in any given situation. Needless to say, many many training dummies were obliterated.

Eventually though, after a ton of dedication to learning Phenomaman’s body in and out, Robert had finally grown accustomed to it. Flight began to feel natural. His strength had become much easier to handle. He’d even somewhat gotten used to sounding like Phenomaman’s inspirational self when interacting with people around and outside the building. Yet despite how normal this hulking form was beginning to feel, the novelty of it all still hadn’t worn off. Everytime Robert put on that helmet, he still felt the same buzz of excitement and anticipation knowing that he was going to open his eyes and look down to see those glorious arms and pecs he adored so much.

Now had he remained appropriate in that time?… No. No he had not. After that first mind blowing experience he got to have with Katon-Ur’s super-sized cock, Pandora's box had opened. There was no going back from that. Robert somehow managed to justify it now as payment for all the help he was about to give Phenomaman even if he knew that wasn’t really true. As such he’d made it a ritual now to slip some time in between his training to jerk off and empty those dumb himbo balls. Always spilling what felt like a bucket load of cum after generous amounts of self worship. But he was always careful now, especially after the first time. For a start he always made sure that he locked the door. Secondly he was a lot more careful as to not completely cover himself in jizz. And lastly he was very efficient in cleaning up afterwards, especially once he’d gotten a handle on Katon-Ur’s super speed. He must’ve masturbated almost every time he possessed that body so it was fairly impressive how Katon-Ur was still none the wiser to his body being used and objectified.

It was only once Robert was truly confident in his skill and ability with Phenomaman’s body did he finally let the executives at SDN know about his project. He explained everything he’d been working on and how much more of an asset he could turn Phenomaman into. Clarifying how he could eliminate almost all of Phenomaman’s shortcomings while still being able to utilise his many strengths. Meanwhile the real Phenomaman would continue to work on himself until he was ready to take back the reigns. He even explained how Phenomaman himself was on board with the whole thing and that they’d been testing the finished product for months now. It sounded like a damn good deal and the suited men at the top seemed to agree. There was no denying that Phenomaman was the living definition of a power house but his simple mindedness made him a liability half the time. But with an intelligent and reliable mind behind all that brawn, he was bound to become one of the greatest heroes this planet had ever seen. They gave Robert permission to head out into the field using Phenomaman’s body as soon as they found a replacement to work his desk back in the office. Even going as far to promise not to fire Phenomaman until they’d had a chance to really give this thing a go.

“Robert… That is wonderful news! I almost cannot believe it.” Phenomaman had said when Robert told him how it went down. “You may have saved my career as a hero. I cannot thank you enough.”

Robert shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Helping you is its own reward.” He’d answered innocently.

“You must at the very least allow me to make love to you.” Phenomaman added, already closing the gap between them as he held his arms out wide.

Robert pretended to refuse but in reality he more than welcomed the embrace. Getting all wrapped up in those enormous bulging muscles felt almost as good as being the one controlling them. And to top it all off, his nose found itself perfectly lodged underneath one of Katon-Ur’s arms where he got the perfect opportunity to breathe in some of that musk. He must've sniffed those pits thousands of times of Katon-Ur’s own nose by now but that didn’t make the scent any less tantalising when he got to experience it with his own nose instead.

It was only a couple days after that when SDN gave Robert the green light to go ahead with his first shift as Phenomaman. He was equal parts excited and nervous as he booted up the Neural Link. He’d given Katon-Ur a nod, prompting the alien to turn on his receiver, and before he knew it he was back in the body he loved so much.

After that Robert strolled out of the lab and made his way up to the dispatching floor of the building just as the rest of the Z-Team were beginning to arrive and clock in for their shift. Robert greeted each of them with Phenomaman’s trademark smile which as per usual was met by a mixed response from the group of reformed villains. Yet none of them seemed to notice the difference. They all thought he was the real Phenomaman and that alone had Robert struggling to keep his cock from getting excited. He was even able to pass off the small receiver he was wearing as a “trendy Earth accessory” which was honestly pretty accurate to something Phenomaman would’ve said. Of course that didn’t work on Invisgal. She knew exactly what it was. As such she narrowed her eyes at Robert with an amused smirk, knowing damn well it was him inside there. But kept her mouth shut nonetheless.

Once everyone had arrived, they turned on their comms. The voice that spoke on the other end was that of a grizzled older man named Frank. Robert had seen him around the office a few times. Huge lumberjack of a man with a hefty midsection and covered with hair. He explained that he’d be taking over for Robert until he finished work on an unspecified project. Naturally this sparked a bit of uproar from the team. It was sort of sweet for Robert to hear just how much they all preferred him over any other dispatcher. And of course when Frank said he didn’t know any details as to Robert’s absence, that sparked a whole wildfire of theories amongst the team as to what he was getting up to. Some were genuine guesses while others were clearly just making shit up for giggles.

“What do you think little Robby is getting up to P-Man?” Prism asked over the comms shortly after she’d been sent on the first dispatch of the day. Though it was only to run a few errands uptown alongside Flamebae.

Robert stuttered for a moment. “I uhmm… I couldn’t say. I am no more informed than any of you… fellow heroes.” He said, trying to keep his impression airtight.

“Really?” Invisgal’s voice crackled through the tiny communicator. “You sure Robert didn’t say anything to you? I thought the two of you were pretty tight nowadays.” He said in a way that only Robert could tell was teasing.

“Yes. I’m sure Courtney.”

“Courtney huh? First time you’ve ever called me that. Didn’t realise we were that close.”

Robert almost choked. “O-oh I j-just… I thought using our first names every now and then might uhmmm- bring us closer together. As a team…”

“I think I’ll stick to Invisgal when we’re on the clock. Or Invisbitch. Take your pick.”

“Right. Apologies Invisgal.” Robert grumbled, chewing on his bottom lip slightly.

The line was silent for a long moment until…

“I’m not the only one who thought that was really fuckin weird right?” Punch-Up chirped.

“Phenomaman is always weird.” Coupé was quick to add.

Before anyone else had a chance to respond, Frank cut them off. “Alright all of you shut your traps. A few calls just came in about a bomb threat over at cinemaworld in the southwest district. The civilians are trapped inside the building after what looks like a hacker attack on the security system. We’re trying to override it but in the meantime I need some of you to head over there and help evacuate the place. Phenomaman, you’re the fastest here. Fly yourself and Melavola over there as quickly as you can.”

Robert stood at attention as the instructions came through loud and clear. He wasn’t used to being on this end of the dispatching. Even before when he was Mecha-Man full time, he usually did things solo. “I’m on it!” He said enthusiastically before swooping Melavola up in his arms and flying out of the SDN call centre.

As soon as they arrived, Melavola opened up a portal that took both her and Robert inside the building where they split up to look for civilians. This kind of work obviously wasn't new. He’d been a hero for many years. Saving lives. Fighting villains. Keeping the peace. Robert had been through it all. But he had to admit, there was something different about the feeling of saving people with own two hands. Before he’d always been operating a huge metal suit. There was always a barrier between himself and the people he was rescuing. But now it felt different. Personal even. He could actually see the way their faces would soften with relief the moment he offered his hand. He didn’t need any augments or tools with this body. He just needed himself. And that was the most empowering thing he’d ever known.

Once they were confident everyone was out, Frank instructed them to leave the rest to the bomb squad and return to SDN. But Robert refused. While flying around his enhanced hearing had caught what sounded like a faint unusual ticking. It could’ve been anything but something about it stood out to him. So much so that he found himself flying around the building again until he located the source. And he was right. There, hidden inside one of the walls, was a massive bomb. It was an insidious looking thing with wires sticking out from all angles while an ominous red light blinked in the centre.

“Phenomaman! What are you doing!?” Frank bellowed down the comms. “You don’t have the expertise to deal with that thing. You’ll send the whole building sky high!”

Robert’s eyes darted over the bomb. Whoever made it had deliberately constructed it to look confusing to the untrained eye. The real Phenomaman wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what to do. Robert however had years of experience under his belt with this kind of thing.

“Do not worry Frank. The building is empty besides myself.” Robert responded. “I think I can do it. I have been studying up on this kind of thing recently.” He added. Not a complete lie, all things considered.

“Hohooooohh shit. That place is about to go up in flames.” Prism chortled as she and the rest of the team listened in.

Frank continued to shout at Robert to leave the bomb alone but the hero had no intention of doing so. How could he pass up a golden opportunity like this at the start of his first shift? He knew that if he could successfully diffuse this thing on his own then it would prove the worth behind his project. Showing the suits at SDN some real evidence that his mind in Phenomaman’s body could be a home run for them and everyone else.

He listened as most of the Z-team egged him on, expecting him to fuck it up. Had he not been borderline indestructible it might’ve sounded insensitive. Regardless he found himself carefully opening up the bomb to get a better look at where all the wires connected on the inside. Slowly but surely he began pulling on a few of them while messing around with the control board. There were a few close calls where he almost pressed or pulled the wrong thing due to his thick sausage fingers but in the end he was able to grin triumphantly as the flashing red light powered itself down, rendering the bomb inactive.

“There. The threat has been neutralised.” He claimed.

Sonar’s voice was the first Robert heard. “I-Is he being serious? Did he actually just diffuse a bomb?”

“No fuckin way lad…” Punch-Up added shortly after. “The thing had to be a dud.”

The team debated over the validity of Robert’s success while he stood there, hands on hips and proud as hell. It was his first outing and already he’d managed to do something the real Phenomaman couldn’t have. So far so good.

“Well uhm… good job Phenomaman. Sorry I doubted you.” Frank said, just as stunned as everyone else. Maybe more so. “Just don’t make a habit out of ignoring what I tell you to do.” He continued in an effort to regain a sense of authority.

The rest of the morning shift went very smoothly with Robert being assigned missions that were mostly mediocre. Things like people calling in about minor inconveniences or the odd thievery here and there. Pretty standard stuff for superhero duty. It wasn’t long before Lunch break rolled around for the Z-Team where most of them ended up gathering in the break room to interrogate Phenomaman about the bomb diffusal. Robert tried to act as nonchalant about it as he could. Just saying that all the classes he’d been taking must finally be starting to pay off. An excuse that they were all forced to accept as it was the only thing that made even a whisper of sense. That or they assumed he just got lucky.

When they headed back out for the afternoon shift, it was much of the same. Easy saves and basic tasks. All up until he got the chance to stop a bank heist. The criminals barely stepped foot out the bank before Robert intercepted them. Descending from the sky and disarming them before they even had a chance to shoot. It seems one of them had heard of Phenomaman’s weakness to being easily manipulated as they tried a similar tactic to what’d worked on Phenomaman in the past. Spinning some sob story that the real Phenomaman no doubt would’ve believed. But not Robert. He saw straight through the lies and made sure not a single one of the criminals got away before the police showed up to take them away. After which he found himself getting flocked by fans who were more than eager to show their appreciation and adoration towards him. Something that seemed to be a common theme throughout the day.

As the shift went by however, Robert couldn’t help but start to feel a little pent up. As he was flying over the city at one point, he could feel his dick beginning to twitch involuntarily. As much as he loved giving this body all the attention it deserved, he couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted on a day like today. Not while on duty anyway. That said he was supposed to dip into that bathroom on his lunch break and have a quick jerk in there to satisfy his urges but he never got the chance. And now, after the rush or having put a stop to an illegal wrestling tournament funded by villains all on his own, he found himself fighting back an erection rather unsuccessfully.

When flaccid, Katon-Ur’s cock was rather pleasant. It only created a modest bulge appropriate enough for when he was out and about wearing this fabulous hero costume. But as soon as he started to get hard, things would inevitably take a turn for the worse. His dick would grow too huge to hide and create a bulging tent that would no doubt turn heads for all the wrong reasons. To say something like that would probably tarnish both his and Phenomaman’s image was probably rather accurate. And yet despite having full control over his strength, he still couldn’t control his cock.

(Link to the artist here)

Before long Robert found himself switching off his communicator before dropping down into his small discreet alleyway with nobody around. Though even after landing, he still looked both ways before undoing his belt and tugging down the lower half of his suit. His ever stiffening cock sprung out with a heavy -thwack- as it slapped against his abs before standing up tall and straight. Robert wasted no time in wrapping one of his meaty stands around the shaft and getting to work. Starting with a slow and steady pump that would gradually get more and more intense. All the while he used his free hand to start grabbing at his ass. Not just his bubbly cheeks though. His fingers were just as eager to explore the hole between them. Circling the tight ring of muscle before pressing a single finger inside. The mere act had him groaning in ecstasy and bucking his hips both to the rhythm of him fingering himself and the ever increasing pace of his wanking. Surely by now it goes without saying that the alleyway received a fresh coating a white paint soon thereafter.

As soon as he looked presentable again, Robert switched his communicator back and claimed he’d turned it off by mistake. A flimsy excuse but they bought it. He wasn’t gone for too long anyway. As such Frank only gave him a light slap on the wrist before sending him on a new mission that’d come in moments ago.

The remainder of the shift went even smoother than Robert could have hoped. He completed almost every assignment he was given with utmost satisfaction and little to no fuckups. Proving himself time and time again until the rest of the team was almost starting to get a little irritated by how incredibly well he was doing today. Usually they’d have fun calling him a dumbass for all the stupid little mistakes Phenomaman would make. But now with Robert in control he was by far the most efficient member of the team. So much so that Robert began to wonder if he should dial it back a little just so he didn't raise too much suspicion.

When everyone clocked off for the day, Robert was given a round of begrudging applause from the rest of the team. The likes of which he received humbly.

Shortly after they suggested heading down to the superhero bar like usual but Robert said he had some business he had to take care of. When he was asked what about, the most Phenomaman response he could think of was that he was making plans for his Magic The Gathering club. An excuse nobody bothered to question.

Of course Robert was really actually back to the lab where his real body sat waiting for him to return. Slumped in the chair with the neural link whirring away on its head. Looking so skinny and pathetic in comparison to the body he was inhabiting now. Even after all these months, it never got any easier to give up all this muscle. If anything he’d only become more hesitant. Finding himself procrastinating for as long as he could just to spend a little longer inside this ginormous muscle bound frame.

He so badly wanted to stay. So… soooo badly. Especially after today where he’d spent the longest amount of time inside of it at once. He could practically feel his muscles twitching on their own as if they were pleading him to stay too. So much so that he found himself bouncing his pecs a little and worshipping the sharp features of his face as he imagined what it might feel like to keep it all forever. What if he could just… take it. Clearly the body itself wanted him too. Clearly it preferred him over its proper owner. That was permission enough right?

Begrudgingly, Robert had to do what was right. He ended the transfer and acted none the wiser to the fantasy he’d been having when Katon-Ur came back around. He told the dumb alien about how the shift had been a resounding success and that soon enough everyone would see what an invaluable part of the team he was. Katon-Ur was over the moon. All the while Robert couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for how badly he still wanted to be inside that body.

———

A dozen more weeks passed by in the blink of an eye once Robert had begun to fill the role of Phenomaman. In that time he’d taken over almost every shift from Katon-Ur and had gained even more perfected control over the body. As such he’d been able to cement himself as a superior version of Phenomaman. He’d gotten past the awkward stage of having to pretend he was somewhere in between smart and dumb as to not raise too many eyebrows and was now confidently displaying his intelligence. It marked quite the change in how Phenomaman was viewed by other heroes, the public and even SDN itself.

For a start the heroes had gained a greater respect for him. Of course many were always impressed by his strength but his tendency to act like a lovable but brainless idiot had left him as the butt of the joke time and time again. Not anymore though. If anything a lot of the high end professionals deeply admired the hard work he’d seemingly put in. Along with this growth, SDN had become more comfortable putting Phenomaman front and centre with a lot of their advertising again. They’d pulled back on it a little over the last year but since Robert had polished off Phenomaman’s image, that handsome face had begun popping up everywhere again. Billboards, posters, social media. You name it! He was quickly becoming even more of a golden boy now than he ever was before. Not to mention his already huge fanbase had exploded to the point where Phenomaman stan accounts were becoming commonplace on most platforms.

As such Robert had been offered a transfer off the Z-Team and back onto what the company called ‘a real superhero team’. He briefly considered it but he found himself turning down the offer. After all they’d been through, he couldn’t leave behind his team of surprisingly awesome rejects. When the Z-Team eventually found out that he’d rejected a transfer, they too gained a newfound respect for him. Loyalty and such.

Somehow Robert had managed to turn the rockiest part of Phenomaman’s entire career into a new golden age. He tried to be humble about it but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying all the love and fanfare. It was more than he’d ever received as Mecha-Man. So much so that it’d managed to deepen his love for this body and persona even more. Making him even more addicted to the point where he’d started to loathe his real body.

He hated looking in the mirror and not seeing Katon-Ur’s dreamy face. He hated how dull the world seemed through his human eyes. He hated moving his arms and not feeling the subtle flex of Katon-Ur’s thick biceps. He hated having a flat ass instead of Katon-Ur’s massive juicy cheeks. And most of all, he hated how pathetic his erections felt when he didn’t have that monstrous cock between his legs. Being himself was just underwhelming to say the least. Embarrassing even. Every time Robert was back in his own skin now, he felt out of place. By contrast Katon-Ur’s body only felt more and more like home. Needless to say, his fantasies about staying this way forever had persisted. He felt bad for thinking it but he couldn’t imagine permanently going back to his old way of life now that he’d experienced all this. How could he?

Unfortunately Robert would be hit around the head with the hard reality that the dream he’d been living might be coming to an end even sooner than he thought. It was hard to believe but Katon-Ur had actually begun to make some surprising progress in his studies in between Robert taking over his body. He was rapidly starting to adapt to human culture in a way he’d struggled to previously and his comprehension skills had begun to improve quite dramatically. Robert wasn’t sure how Katon-Ur had suddenly made so much progress. Perhaps sharing a brain with Robert’s far more intelligent mind had rubbed off on Katon-Ur somehow? Either way, this realization made it clear that pretty soon Katon-Ur would be ready to take back control in the field. Robert’s assistance would no longer be required and by result Robert would no longer get to possess the infallible hunky body he’d begun to value greatly over his own.

Seeing the joy on the alien’s mustached face as he explained how well he’d been doing was bittersweet. One one hand, he was happy for Katon-Ur. They were still close friends after all and Robert genuinely did want the best for him even if his own perverted fantasies tended to cloud his mind whenever it came to Katon-Ur. On the other hand however, he didn’t want to stop. Giving back control to the real Phenomaman meant never getting to experience that body again. Sure he could ask Katon-Ur out on a date and if he was lucky the space hero might even say yes. But dating him would never be the same as actually being him. Kissing him would never bring the same amount of satisfaction as actually reaching up to touch those lips and caress that beautiful mustache. Sucking that enormous cock would never feel as good as using it to bust a fat nut. Nothing was ever going to compare.

But the inevitable was approaching so the best Robert could do for now was enjoy it while it lasted. Whenever he was inside Phenomaman, he soaked as much of the love from fans as he could. He tried not to take for granted the incredible strength and the ability to fly. But most of all he stopped being shy about worshipping himself.

Whenever he returned to the lab after a shift, it’d become routine for him to take some time to himself where he’d enjoy Katon-Ur’s perfect form before switching off the Neural Link. He wasn’t shy about stripping down and gazing at himself in the new conveniently placed mirror. Using his eyes to track along every contour and detail of his hulking form and making sure to commit all of it to memory. And if his eyes didn’t get too distracted by the bulge of his biceps or the curve of his ass then they would find themselves locked onto his face. Staring deep into his own dilated pupils as he savoured the fact that he’d owned those beautiful eyes and all the other sharp handsome features that surrounded them.

All the while his cock would no doubt be throbbing at full mast. Bucking so needily between his legs that it’d be impossible to ignore even if he wanted to. By now he’d actually measured it to be a whopping eleven and a half inches, just barely shy of a foot long. Even after all this time, it was still mind boggling how huge it was. Something so obscene that it was practically unusable. And the fact that it was only about three inches soft made knowing the kind of beast it could grow into even hotter.

Ordinarily he would just jerk himself off like a mad man while groping his huge muscle tits until he blew a phenomenal load all over the mirror. Now though, he’d started setting up a camera to record his self worship and to capture himself acting like a horny animal while using Katon-Ur’s body. Actively showing off to the camera while he did. Sometimes acting like Phenomaman and other times just acting like a big dumb cocky jock with cum for brains. Mostly so he could have an archive to look back on and jerk off to once the experiment finally came to end.

Once he was done, Robert would get one of his new cleaning robots to wipe away any of the mess Katon-Ur’s virile cock had left behind. As it did he’d dress himself back in the hero suit as if nothing had happened. Then once he deemed himself inconspicuous enough, he’d deactivate the Neural Link receiver. The most Katon-Ur had ever noticed was how sweaty he felt sometimes when he woke up. Something Robert had always been able to pass off as him simply working his ass off to make Katon-Ur look as good as possible out there. Despite his growing intelligence, Katon-Ur was still as gullible as ever when it came to the man he now considered to be his best friend.

“I do not think I will ever be able to repay the debt I owe you Robert. I wish there was more I could do to thank you.” Katon-Ur had said one day shortly after finding out about an award Robert had received on his behalf. “I do not deserve all the charity you have bestowed upon me.”

“I’ve told you before, big guy. Don't worry about it. If anything I should be thanking you for trusting me to go out there with your power.” Robert said while wrapping an arm around Katon-Ur’s waist. “I already feel like I’ve done more good as Phenomaman than I ever did being Mecha-Man. I’m actually a little bummed that I might not have to fill in for much longer. Your body really is incredible…” Those last words were laced with an undertone of lust that Katon-Ur was too oblivious to pick up on.

In the past Katon-Ur might’ve mistook the compliment as bullying towards his appearance. But over the last few months Robert had really helped Katon-Ur to realise that the mass majority of people, Robert included, were being genuine when they said good things about his body and the way he looked. As such, Katon-Ur couldn’t help but blush a little. “Awww… T-Thank you Robert. That means a lot to hear.”

“Now. How about you show that new Magic The Gathering deck you’ve been working on.”

Katon-Ur’s eyes lit up immediately as he pulled Robert along excitedly towards the exit of the lab, eager to take Robert back to his place so they could play.

———

The day Robert had been dreading had been drawing ever near. That couldn’t have been clearer when Katon-Ur had insisted that he start taking on some of his own shifts again instead of Robert filling in. He was more confident than ever in himself and wanted to prove as much by heading out into the field and maintaining the new squeaky clean image Robert had built for him. And Robert couldn’t even argue with him. From everything he’d seen, he had to agree that Katon-Ur was more or less ready to take up the mantle of Phenomaman once again. Sure he could’ve tried gaslighting the poor alien but Robert couldn’t bring himself to upset Katon-Ur when he was clearly so proud of himself. Doing so would be like kicking a puppy.

It started with Katon-Ur doing half a shift every couple of days but that quickly went up to full shifts that became more and more frequent. Before long Robert was only doing every other shift and, for the most part, nobody seemed to notice the difference between whether it was him or Katon-Ur controlling that body. As such it pained Robert to finally have to mark a date on the calendar for when his experiment would come to an end. And it was close. Only two weeks from when he marked it. Katon-Ur was of course excited to be standing on his own two feet again but Robert already found himself mourning what he was very soon about to lose. Or so he thought…

About a week before the experiment was supposed to end, Robert hopped into the body of Phenomaman for what would be his third from last time. He’d been savouring it more than ever this last week or so. Both the body and the identity itself. At this point he was just trying to commit as much of the experience to memory as he could while also secretly hoping he could find some excuse later down the line to jump back in every once in a while.

He’d clocked in and turned on his comms alongside the rest of the Z-Team. Frank was still their dispatcher and had been ever since. Somehow the team hadn’t been able to irritate the paunchy bear of a man out of the job yet. Robert must’ve softened them up a little in his time as their dispatcher. A position he’d soon be returning to it seemed. Probably for the best as the weird and wild speculations as to why Robert had seemingly been spending all his time in the downstairs labs over the last few months had only grown.

After a few simple jobs like doing a grocery run for an elderly couple and returning a lost dog to its owner, Frank hit Robert up with an urgent mission. A new villain had appeared over in the east side of the city and had started causing havoc. Robert was nearby enough that he could already hear the commotion when it started and was already on his way to put a stop to it.

It didn’t take long for him to spot the target when he saw streaks of lightning whipping around the streets and buildings, all leading back to one man who would eventually be known as the Electromaniac. Robert would later find out that his power to generate electricity was normally quite weak until he figured out that pumping himself with just the right assortment of drugs would massively amplify his output. Doing so however had also seemed to fry his brain to the point of going on a mindless rampage. Now he was zapping everyone and everything around him. There had already been a mass number of injuries and even a small number of casualties all while every electronic device in a mile radius was going haywire.

Robert knew he had to act fast. Every second wasted could end with another casualty. So without thinking, he flew headfirst at the living embodiment of lightning. Descending fast enough to grab the villain before he had a chance to react. His top priority was to get this freak as far away from civilians as possible. So he powered through an obscene amount of electricity to wrap his beefy arms around the villain before flying them both as high into the sky as possible.

It only took a few moments for them to get above the clouds. During which Robert could feel well over a thousand volts of electricity flowing through his body. An amount like that would’ve killed a regular human instantly but to Phenomaman it wasn’t much more than a tingle. If anything it only energised him as his body’s natural instincts for energy absorption kicked in. His plan was to take Electromaniac so high up that he passed out. Phenomaman’s massively increased lung capacity meant he could hold his breath for an extremely long time and could easily outlast the villain. In theory it was fool proof but in his haste to put a stop to Electromaniac, Robert had overlooked one tiny detail.

The Neural Link receiver.

Though his body might’ve been impervious to the electricity, the receiver in his ear certainly wasn’t. His steady absorption of the energy wasn’t enough to immediately cancel out all those volts of electricity folding around them in a sparkling ball of light. He hadn’t had enough time to master that ability yet and as such, the receiver began to short circuit. Robert didn’t notice until the thing practically exploded in his ear, causing him to wince sharply. It was the closest thing he’d ever felt to pain in this body. It took him a second to realise what had happened but when he did, his eyes widened with shock. How could he have been so careless!?

He thought that seconds from now he would wake up back in his own body and Katon-Ur would find himself in quite the confusing situation in the skies above the city. But as he waited for his senses to dull and for his vision to fade… nothing happened. He felt a little dizzy, nauseous even, but he was still very much in control of Phenomaman’s body. He didn’t understand what was happening or even if the receiver was truly broken. All he knew was that he was still holding on tight to Electromaniac.

Robert flew them both higher and higher until they reached the stratosphere. The freezing temperatures and lack of oxygen caused the lunatic supervillain to fizzle out in a matter of seconds. Robert watched his eyes loll back as the last sparks of electricity evaporated. Only then did he start to descend again, going as fast as he could to make sure Electromaniac didn’t die. Soon after he found himself plummeting past the clouds again and towards the city below.

He slammed back onto solid ground with what could only be described as a superhero landing, the unconscious lunatic now lying motionless in his arms. Shortly after he ended up dropping the other man to the floor as Robert found himself hit with an intense feeling of vertigo. Everything around him began to spin and blur in a way that caused him to stumble to his knees while holding his head in pain. It was as if someone had punched him in the brain. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

It was a miracle he didn’t pass out. Instead he reached up towards his ear where the tiny receiver should’ve been only to find a busted up mess. It didn’t make any sense. Without the receiver he shouldn’t have been able to stay in control of this body. Even with it being destroyed, he’d implemented a fail safe that should’ve been thrown back into his regular human body anyway. Yet he was still very much possessing the body of his favourite hunky hero and friend.

Robert held his head in discomfort as the gears slowly began to turn in his dazed mind. The intense electromagnetic field surrounding them as they flew up into the sky must’ve disrupted the signal connecting Robert’s consciousness to his old body. So when the receiver was destroyed, Robert’s consciousness had no way of returning to his real body. Instead it seems to have just rattled around inside Katon-Ur’s brain a little.

The reality of the situation didn’t really hit him at first. Instead he simply tried to collect himself as he noticed the worried faces of onlookers all around.

“No… no need to worry everyone. You’re safe now!” He shouted as best he could while slowly pushing himself back up onto his feet. Giving a weary thumbs up before signalling to the police nearby that it was safe to come and apprehend Electromaniac. He took some deep breaths as he watched them slap cuffs on the villain. It was only then that he realised the comms device in his other ear had been destroyed as well, evidenced by the sudden lack of chatter from his teammates and Frank.

Robert tried his best to blink away the dizziness but the more his mind began to clear, the more panicked he found himself becoming. All he knew for certain was that something had gone very very wrong. He was only snapped out of his worried trance when Coupé and Sonar touched down beside him.

“Phenomaman, you alright dude? You look like you’re about to hurl.” Sonar asked, taking a step back just in case he was right.

Coupé folded her arms over her chest. “Your communicator went dead so Frank sent us in case you needed backup.” She glanced over at the unconscious maniac being dragged away into the police van just a few feet away. “Clearly not.”

“What did he do to you man? I’ve never seen you this shaken up before.” Sonar leaned over to pat Robert on the back while still being cautious to stay outside of the potential splash zone.

Robert shook his head. “I-I uhmmm… I think it was just ahhhh…” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “All that electricity… It rattled me a little. I guess.” He replied, which wasn’t a complete lie.

The three of them flew back to SDN shortly after with Robert trailing a little behind as he fell deep in thought. Once they arrived, Robert was given a new comms device after being checked over by the medical team. It was the first time Phenomaman had ever needed to be checked out but alas they found nothing. Physically, he was completely fine.

So after a quick break, Robert was thrown back into the shift as if nothing had happened. He could’ve requested the day off but in his daze he just agreed to head back out. So that’s what he did. Before long Frank assigned him a new task and off Robert went. Helping out citizens and pretending as if everything was normal. Mostly because a big part of him wanted to believe that it was. Almost like he was in denial about the fact that something had clearly gone awry with his experiment. But as soon as he was finished with hero business, he’d have to confront it.

Of course the day practically flew by after that. Lunch came and went in no time and before long Robert was drifting through the second half of the shift. He put on that signature smile whenever needed and did whatever was needed of him but deep down all he could think about was what he was gonna find out when he got back to the lab later that night. Most of the Z-Team hadn’t noticed the underlying worrying plaguing him. The only one who seemed to catch a whiff of it was Invisgal. She’d asked him if everything was alright and he lied through his teeth with the best inspirational impression of Phenomaman he could muster.

But inevitably the shift came to an end. Everyone clocked out after finishing up their final assignments for the day, Robert included. After that came the walk back down to the lab where on any other day he would spend some time worshipping himself before powering down the Neural Link. This time however, the walk felt unusually long as a daunting cloud loomed over him. Even when he finally reached the door to his lab, Robeet couldn’t help but stand frozen for a good minute or so. Even when he finally went to press the button to open the door, his hand trembled.

Walking inside, everything was as it should be. All his tools and gadgets where they always were. His schematics and notes were still sitting on a workbench off to the side. And across the room was none other than Robert’s human body sitting rather lifeless with the Neural Link still on its head. It wasn’t a new sight and yet something about it felt so ominous now. He didn’t feel the same connection to his old body that he normally felt whenever he looked at it. It was like a separate entity now.

The first thing he did was check the computer and sure enough there were multiple error messages plastered across the screen. All of which prattled off about the connection from the Neural Link to receiver being disrupted and then severed all together soon after. There had been a failed attempt to pull his consciousness back out of Katon-Ur’s body shortly before total loss of connection which was what’d caused the brief dizziness and nausea. And now with the receiver destroyed, there was nothing he could do to rekindle that connection.

“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck…” Robert grumbled with frustration as he ran his hands through Katon-Ur’s perfect hair. “Damn I knew I should’ve made a backup… Goddamn it!” He had to resist the urge to smash his fist through the computer screen out of pure frustration.

He looked up at his real body again. There was nothing that could wake it up because there was nothing in there to wake up. It was nothing more than an empty shell now. No brain activity beyond the absolute essentials. Everything that made up Robert was now stuck inside Katon-Ur’s brain with no way to get back. Of course that also meant that Katon-Ur’s consciousness was also stuck in a state of hibernation as it remained suppressed underneath Robert’s. And Katon-Ur had no way of knowing.

“Ohhhhhh god…” Robert panicked. “Ohhh god. Ohh fuck. Ohhh Jesus.” It was pretty out of character for him to spiral like this but given the situation it was definitely warranted. “I-I’m stuck. I can’t g-get out. We’re stuck like this!” He exclaimed loudly to himself. The thought of which should’ve been horrifying and for a moment it seemed that way. Never being able to return to your true form was a terrifying fate on paper. But the more Robert let those words roll over him, the less scared he became.

“I’m… stuck.” He repeated to himself, less panicked this time and more monotone as racked it over in his mind. “I’m stuck. In Katon-Ur’s body… Phenomaman’s body.” He went on to confirm with himself. His eyes flickered down at himself, glancing at all the gorgeous muscle he’d come to love so much, before looking back up at his old body. Looking at how weak and pale it seemed by comparison. “And I can’t go back…” his heart seemed to jump a little at those last words. And that’s when it hit him.

Where a terrified frown had sat mere moments ago, the beginnings of a smirk began to form. Because as wrong as it was, the universe had answered his prayers. Robert had never wanted to give up this body and now he’d never have to. He never could because without the receiver to reconnect him to the Neural Link, it was impossible. He was stuck… in the body of his fucking dreams!

That small smirk slowly started to grow until it broke out into a full on smile. Of course there was a huge part of him that felt awful about the fact that the real Katon-Ur was still sitting dormant inside their shared brain but that part was vastly overshadowed by the joy he was feeling. Joy for the fact that he’d never had to give up this body ever again! He’d never have to end the session. He’d never have to dread going back to his old human life. He’d never have to feel small or weak again. He’d never have to stop being Phenomaman!!

Suddenly he began to wonder what the hell he’d been so worried about all day?! This was quite possibly the best news of his entire life. He’d jerked off countless times in Katon-Ur’s body to the fantasy of keeping it and never going back but he never could’ve gone through with it. Not on his own. The guilt would’ve been unbearable. Honestly he’d be lying if there wasn’t a moderate sense of guilt weighing on him right now but at least he knew that it wasn’t his fault. Not intentionally anyway. Perhaps his carelessness was what’d gotten him in this situation but beyond that it was a total accident. He couldn’t really blame himself that much could he?…

Robert turned and looked at himself in the mirror. Katon-Ur stared back at him. Phenomaman. Even though he’d drunk the sight in time after time, it seemed different now. More real somehow.

“I’m… I’m sorry Katon-Ur.” Robert said while trying to keep his smile at bay. He knew Katon-Ur more than likely wouldn’t hear his words but he needed to say them anyway. “I never would’ve intended for something like this to happen but… it looks like I’m gonna have to fill in for a little longer than we planned.” The sides of his mouth were practically trembling as he tried to contain his excitement. But eventually he couldn’t contain himself as he allowed a huge cheesy grin to emerge.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Robert practically ripped off the Phenomaman suit to expose every beautiful inch of the body he now owned for the foreseeable future. He’d worshipped it so many times by now and yet somehow it’d never looked more delicious than it did right now. His biceps were works of art. His legs looked as though they belonged to a greek god. His pecs were downright hypnotic with the way they jiggled under the slightest movement. The same could be said for his enormous globe of an ass. But nothing would ever beat the sight of his gigantic space cock once it stiffened up to its full length.

That evening Robert should’ve been panicked off his feet and trying to find a way to fix this mess. Instead he lost himself like never before in the vast pleasure bestowed upon him by Katon-Ur’s body. Touching it in every way you can imagine. Stimulating every sweet spot. Groping every bit of pliable muscle. Trying not to cum at the sound of his own voice moaning through it all. And of course jerking Katon-Ur’s cock like he never had before. Running his hand rapidly along the powerful length while he allowed his fingers to probe at his asshole slightly. Dancing around the tight ring before finally making the dive and causing his eyes to roll while his mouth hung agape.

“Mmmmpphf… fuuuuuckkk… ohhhh fuuuck…” Robert groaned. “I’m sooooo fuckinnn sorry Katon-Ur… ohhhhh.” He continued to apologise through the endless waves of pleasure. The conflict still brewing within slightly but if anything that only made him hornier. Thinking about Katon-Ur completely oblivious to the fact that he’d had his body stolen, accidentally or otherwise, soon had Robert pumping even more furiously than before. Biting his lip even as he glanced up at the beautiful mustached face staring ask at him, so hot and bothered yet still so immaculate in every way. And now completely and utterly his. The expression only grew hungrier as he dug his fingers even deeper inside that sensitive Phenoma-hole. The feeling of which made him wish there was actual dick in there.

The very thought caused his mind to wander to another fantasy. Of course he knew his dick was probably too big for most people so instead he’d imagined turning into a total bottom in Phenomaman’s body. Putting this fat muscle ass to good work while his giant cock flops uselessly between his legs. All while being told it was too big to be good for anything. The idea of it still sent shivers down his spine. Even more now that he could actually make it a reality.

Soon after Robert gave himself, the mirror and half of the room a hefty redecorating. Spraying an enormous load of thick milky cum in massive jets pumped from his heavy balls. It was absolutely everywhere. By the end he found himself lying on the floor, hot, sweaty and sticky as he tried desperately to catch his breath.

“How the hell am I gonna explain this?…” He wondered to himself while running a hand through his chest hair.

———

Robert wasn’t able to hide the truth of what’d happened for long. Once it became clear to him that there was no short term solution to the situation he’d found himself in, he informed the executives at SDN. Telling them all about how his brief encounter with Electromaniac had compromised the Neural Link receiver, leaving him stranded in Katon-Ur’s body with no way of getting back. When asked if he could make a new receiver, he said it was possible but that it could take a couple weeks at very least. As such they decided to keep all this under wraps for now.

Of course Robert’s real body couldn’t survive on its own for that long, not to mention people would begin to notice his sudden absence. As such the executives would help to spin a story about how ‘Robert’ had been involved in an accident that’d left him in a comatose state. Hooking his vacant body up to life support in a nearby hospital for the time being. During which Robert would be tasked in recreating the receiver.

Robert had agreed. Of course he had. But there was still a massive part of him that wanted to live out this fantasy. That wanted to take this opportunity he’d been graced with and run with it for the rest of his life. He was completely torn.

But in the meantime he had no choice but to continue living the life of the one and only Phenomaman. Going out on hero duty was nothing new by this point. He used everything he’d learned up until now to keep being the best version of Phenomaman he could be. Acing most of his assignments. Keeping the peace. Working effortlessly alongside his teammates. Soaking in all the love and attention he received from civilians with as much grace and humility as possible. All standard stuff by now.

The real difference came when he clocked out at the end of his shift and no longer had to leave this form. He got to head back to Katon-Ur’s place and do whatever the hell he wanted with this dreamy body in his free time. Half the time that includes masturbation is some form or another. Other times it’s going through Katon-Ur’s things and trying on some of his clothes besides the hero costume, loving how well the huge sizes fit him. Or going out on the town with the Z-Team and actually getting to socialise as Katon-Ur outside of being a hero. Enjoying all the simpler things in life and how much better they all seemed from inside this colossal hunk of a body. It was as though life itself was brighter and really worth living in a way he hadn’t known before.

And then of course getting to wake up every day to the welcome surprise of Katon-Ur’s morning wood. Being welcomed every sunrise by the sight of this massive 6’4 frame of bulging muscle was one thing but feeling that familiar throb was something else entirely. It was like an instant reminder to his waking mind that he was inhabiting the body of his deepest desires. He never wasted any time gripping and stroking it lovingly until eventually he was greedily lapping up his own cum.

That said he’d been procrastinating heavily when it came to rebuilding the receiver. He’d begun progress on it but he always found excuses not to work on it as much as he should've. Claiming he was busy with all his responsibilities now as Phenomaman. Saying it was harder to build with Katon-Ur’s large clumsy hands. ‘Accidentally’ making too many plans before or after work and not leaving enough time to work on the device. The excuses truly were endless. Sometimes they were valid but most of the time it was clear that he just didn’t want any of this to end. Especially now that he was getting to spend a prolonged period of time inside the body without any breaks in between. The likes of which had only exacerbated the addiction he already had to this form.

Two weeks soon passed and the high ups at SDN had called on Robert for an update on his progress. In which time, had Robert been focused on the project, he could’ve had the receiver up and running by now. However that certainly wasn't the case now. He’d barely gotten half way! When asked how much longer it was going to take, Robert said he wasn’t sure. Fortunately the executives didn’t seem overly angry with him. More concerned if anything. But either way they asked him to keep them in the loop so that they could discreetly transfer Robert’s human body back to the labs when he was ready to reverse the possession.

As one could probably guess by now, progress on the device didn’t get any quicker after that. If anything it only got slower as Robert found more and more reasons to procrastinate. Getting lost in his borrowed life in an effort to forget about the fact that he’d eventually have to go back to who he was before. Initially this included simple indulgence in all the opportunities that opened up to him as Phenomaman. This included starring in an advert, going on a late night talk show, making a surprise appearance at a Phenomaman fan club and even hosting the Magic The Gathering club at SDN that Katon-Ur had started up. Most of which were things he could’ve done back when he was Mecha-Man but never allowed himself to. Telling himself that all of that was a distraction from the job. But after telling himself that these were the kinds of things Phenomaman would’ve done, he opened himself up to them. And now he loved it!

But if anything the biggest distraction from his progress on the receiver had to be the countless men he had over at Katon-Ur’s place. The first time had been only a week after getting stuck in this body. After tons of fantasising about getting fucked, he found himself wandering into a gay bar late one night. Of course it wasn’t long before other gay men started to swarm around him. Offering him drinks and giving flirty compliments in regards to the tight clothes he’d decided to wear. The fact that most of them recognised him as Phenomaman certainly helped but even those that didn’t clock it still threw themselves at him anyway purely for his massive gorgeous body.

There was no doubt in his mind that Robert could’ve taken over half the bar home with him that night but he settled on a single man named Oscar. He was a short beefcake of a man standing at around 5’7 but still stacked with thick hairy muscle. He had a nice thick beard and doughy brown eyes that Robert found himself getting lost in. The height difference alone was enough to make Robert wanna scoop Oscar up in his arms and whisk him away. So that’s exactly what he did. After finishing their drinks, Robert flew Oscar back to his place where things quickly began to heat up.

They ripped off each other's clothes as soon as they made it in the door. By which point Robert had already started to get noticeably excited and Oscar was shocked when he looked down to see the intimidating weapon of a cock he was competing with.

“Holy shit! It's massive!” Oscar exclaimed as his own respectable six incher bobbed nervously next to Robert’s enormous eleven inch plus. “I uhmm… I don’t think that’s gonna fit.” He admitted as he reached down and gently touched the behemoth

Robert smiled before leaning in and planting a firm kiss against Oscar’s lips. “It doesn’t need to.” He said simply before gently taking Oscar’s hand and guiding it back towards Katon-Ur’s thick muscle ass. Oscar swiftly got the hint and soon began squeezing and groping that ass for all it was worth as they slowly moved towards the bedroom.

Shortly after both of their dreams were coming true as Robert crawled onto the bed, presenting the bubbly ass and hungry hole of Phenomaman while his massive cock and balls hung heavily below. Oscar didn’t waste any time eating him out. Digging his face and tongue between those superhero cheeks with more passion than he’d had for anything in his entire life. And when he finally pressed his dick inside, they couldn’t help filling the room with a symphony of deep masculine groans. Oscar’s balls slapping hard against Robert’s taint as Katon-Ur’s ass got fucked for the very first time. And every second of it was pure bliss. It wasn’t long before Robert was practically seeing stars from how good it felt. Better than he ever imagined sex could feel thanks to Katon-Ur’s enhanced senses. All the while his own giant cock flopped and bounced with every thrust, hard as a steel rod. He was overtaken by overwhelming ecstasy until Robert found himself busting a massive hands free loas. A scene that was shortly followed by Oscar breeding him nice and deep.

“Let’s go again.” Oscar begged only fifteen minutes later. The two laid naked atop the bedsheets in the afterglow of their first round but it was clear by their returning erections that they both wanted more. “But this time, put your costume on. I wanna see Phenomaman sucking my cock.

Robert grinned. “Your wish is my command.” He responded cheekily before getting out of bed to retrieve his hero costume from the closet.

After that night Robert had been fucked countless other men, including a few more times by Oscar. So much so that by around the third or fourth weeks of him being stuck as Katon-Ur, public rumours began to spread about his sexuality. He wasn’t planning to say anything at first but when he was asked in an interview about how he identified, it just sort of came out. Keeping his best Phenomaman impression, he explained how he’d grown to enjoy the company of other human males more than he anticipated. As such he was then labelled by the public as a gay icon and a pillar for gay men everywhere to look up to. This of course went mega viral online with all of his gay fans becoming even more feral than they already were at the thought of their favourite hunky alien hero having sex with other hot men. He couldn’t blame them one bit for that.

To say Robert had altered the image of Phenomaman would be an understatement. If the real Katon-Ur could see how Robert had changed things in such a short period of time, he’d certainly be confused. But none of it was particularly bad. If anything he was only growing more popular by the day. For the strongest hero on the planet to come out as gay had done wonders in terms of acceptance towards the LGBT community. He’d already been invited to attend multiple LGBT events around the world, most of which he was planning to attend if he could. And beyond that he’d only become more respected for all the good that he does and continues to do.

As such he’d been left with less and less time for the receiver. He still worked on it occasionally though. He’d never went back on his word to rebuild it and eventually undo all this. And after about five months of living life as Phenomaman, Robert finally finished. The receiver had finally been rebuilt and after a few tests it seemed capable of synchronising with the Neural Link just as well as the original. Of course he wasn’t all that excited since he knew this meant the best time of his life was coming to an end. But he supposed this dream couldn’t last forever…

Or so he thought.

Before going ahead with having his old body transferred back to the lab, Robert thought it was best to run some routine procedures on Katon-Ur’s body and brain first. Just to check everything was in order. He didn’t expect anything to be wrong of course. He was only doing it to delay what he thought was inevitable. Except… he did find something. When scanning his brain specifically, he found that something quite peculiar had begun to happen.

Katon-Ur’s mind was no longer a separate entity. It should’ve been suppressed into the deeper parts of his brain but somehow it’d bubbled back up and started to attach itself to Robert’s mind. He wasn’t sure how the hell it’d happened but he could only assume it had to do with the extended period of time he’d spent inside this body. Sharing a brain for so long must’ve caused their individual brainwaves to merge and overlap. It wasn’t something Robert had never considered possible but then again he didn’t design the Neural Link with the intention of staying in a different body any longer than twenty four hours. He’d never considered what the possible side effects could be after staying inside Katon-Ur for months on end. And here they were.

Suddenly a few little things he’d noticed about himself over the last few months started to make a lot more sense. Like his sudden affinity for puppies and card games. He’d become a lot more fond of space itself and had even found flying out to the moon like Katon-Ur occasionally when he needed to wind down and chill. He’d caught himself thinking about Katon-Ur’s home planet Urgot-52dc a lot recently too. He thought he’d just been doing a good job at immersing himself in his role as Phenomaman. But perhaps those thoughts and feelings were part due to Katon-Ur’s slumbering mind bleeding through into his own. It would make sense.

After running some more tests on himself, one thing became clear. The Neural Link wouldn’t be able to separate them anymore. In theory Robert could still use the new receiver to send his consciousness back into his own body however it would more than likely drag Katon-Ur’s consciousness along with it. Meaning both Robert and Katon-Ur’s suppressed mind would end up in Robert’s human body while the body of Phenomaman would be left vacant and lifeless. And that was if it went well. The alternative was that their minds would be violently ripped apart instead.

Robert explained all this to the executives at SDN. Telling them of the complications and what an attempted reversal would likely entail. So they were all left with a choice. Either they risk trying to send Robert back to his own body and lose the greatest hero the world has ever seen. Or they leave things the way they are. Let Robert’s old body die and allow him to live on as Phenomaman where he could continue to do good.

It wasn’t a hard decision.

A few days later, Robert's old human body was taken off life support after being officially declared brain dead. Of course everyone on the Z-Team as well as all the other heroes and staff at SDN were distraught to hear the news. Even the rest of the world began to mourn his apparent death when it was announced that Mecha-Man had passed away. As such a funeral service was held privately for those who knew Robert while a wider memorial was held for him as the hero Mecha-Man.

To say it was strange for him to attend his own funeral would be an understatement. Robert had shown up in a black suit alongside all his other friends while they paid their respects to him. All the while having no idea that Robert was actually standing beside them the whole time. Alive and well inside Katon-Ur. But strangely, it was exactly what he needed. In a very morbid kind of way, going up and saying goodbye helped him to let go of his former identity. It wasn’t easy but after the service was over, he felt lighter. Relieved even.

After that was when the new reality really began to set in. Who Robert used to be was gone. He was Phenomaman now. Truly and forever. And he was going to live his new life to the absolute fullest.

———

Years later.

Katon-Ur arrived home after a long day. In his arms was his date for the night, another handsome man he’d met and was more than eager to have some fun with. By now it was a little known fact that, beyond just being gay, Phenomaman was quite the slut. Having slept with at least half the gay men in the city over the last couple of years, rumours about his frequent sexual endeavours had begun to spread quietly. Not that it ever harmed his reputation. He’d received a few questions about it and he’d always say that he doesn’t like to kiss and tell but that he wasn’t embarrassed to admit how he had an active private life. The fact that he didn’t try to hide it while also remaining dignified about the subject only seemed to garner him more respect in an odd turnabout way. Though that might’ve been part due to the fact that a bunch of people loved the thought of him being a bit of a slut behind closed doors.

Overall life had only improved since he’d moved on from his former identity and fully embraced his new self. But it’d changed a lot as well.

For a start the Z-Team had split up for the most part. Mostly because they’d completed the rehabilitation program most of them were on and had earned their titles as actual superheroes. After which Katon-Ur had gone on to be the centre piece of a new hero team. He’d brought a few members of the old Z-Team along with him. Namely Prism, Coupé and Punch-Up. Alongside them were a few other professional heroes including Blonde Blazer, the likes of which Katon-Ur had managed to resolve the tension with after a rather awkward conversation he had with her shortly after he came out as homosexual. But all was well now and their team was seen as one of the greatest their city and even the country as a whole had ever seen.

As for the other Z-Team members, Sonar had left to work on some cryptocurrency scheme that he swears isn’t shady and is going to pave the way for the future. Meanwhile Flambae and Golem left to try their luck at a music career together. Something everyone had told them was a bad idea but somehow it’d worked out shockingly well for them.

And then there was Invisigal. She wanted to keep on being a hero but she didn’t want to be a part of Katon-Ur’s team. Mostly because things got weird between them after she figured out that it was really still Robert inside that hunky shell and that he’d essentially just stolen that entire identity. She’d been chill about it back when it was temporary swaps and secret jerk offs but now it was a whole different level of freaky. She couldn’t wrap her head around it and who could blame her? She promised to keep it to herself as she always did but she couldn’t work alongside him. Instead opting to join a new team in a different city where she seemed to be doing pretty well.

Beyond that however, the world only seemed to be getting brighter. Crime rates had plummeted in the last couple of years while Phenomaman’s popularity only continued to soar. He’d helped front a campaign for more Villains to be allowed into rehabilitation programs in order to turn their lives around and give back to the people much like the Z-Team had. And above all else he stood tall and proud as a pillar of hope.

And now his reward for all that hard work was to get his thick hero ass filled to the brim with cum by his date. Perhaps it was selfish of him to think but the sex and masturbation was honestly still one of the best parts about getting to keep this body. It never got old feeling another man feverishly pound into him while groping at his muscles and burying their face into his huge muscle tits. That or seeing them desperately try to fit even a fraction of his enormous cock in their mouths. The size of which so many men couldnt help but worship shortly before fucking him and leaving it to flop around uselessly like the oversized monster that it was.

Yet despite all the sex was getting, Katon-Ur still found one of his biggest turn ons to be himself. The self worship never really stopped. He’d still stare at himself for a little too long in the mirror. He’d still get hard just from flexing his muscles a little too much or bouncing his pecs. Because deep down he was still that same pervert who was obsessed with this body and he couldn’t help but continue to love himself on a level that was so deep that many would probably consider it creepy. Especially if they saw the way he’d make out with his own reflection sometimes. Eyes locked onto himself as he busted to the sight and feeling of his own body again and again. And not once did it get dull. If anything it only made him wish he had a clone of himself to use for the ultimate self worship.

Maybe he’d have to get back into science and tech at some point to see if such a thing was possible…

Congratulations on making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. God I’ve gotta use Phenomaman again someday. Soooo fuckin hot.

[hairy-bothered]

Martin Pike had a way of making a whole office feel smaller when he was angry.

By three-thirty on Thursday, he was in one of his moods: jaw tight beneath that thick bristly mustache, suit jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled, voice carrying through the glass wall of his office. Outside, the late afternoon light striped the carpet in gold, but inside Martin’s office everything felt gray and tense.

Owen stood in front of the desk with a yellow legal pad in his hands, trying to stay upbeat. Owen was young, mid-20s, with curly hair and a fresh face. What he lacked in experience he made up in gumption and determination.

“I know the numbers weren’t in the format you wanted,” he said carefully, “but I already fixed the regional totals, and I think I can have the revised—”

“You think,” Martin snapped. Owen stopped.

Martin leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over the bald crown of his head. The salt-and-pepper hair around the sides caught the light. He looked like a man held together by caffeine, resentment, and pure force of will.

“That’s the problem,” Martin said. “You’re always thinking, always improvising, always smiling like this is some kind of summer camp. This is not school. This is not practice. This is my office, and when I ask for something done, I expect it done right the first time.”

Owen swallowed. He was used to Martin being hard on him. He was not used to being dressed down like this over a spreadsheet he had, in fact, mostly salvaged from someone else’s mess.

“I was trying to help.”

Martin stood. Even at average height, he had presence. In a dark suit vest and white shirt, he looked solid, immovable, like one of those old executive portraits that had learned how to shout.

“I do not pay you to try, Owen. I pay you to listen.” Martin came around the desk. “Do you have any idea how much pressure I am under? Do you have any idea how much of this place rests on me not making mistakes while people like you float around with good attitudes and no obvious consequences?”

Owen took a step back. Martin took another step forward. And then, with Martin mid-sentence and Owen’s heel catching on the edge of the rug, the overhead lights burst white. Not popped. Not flickered. Burst.

A hard, impossible flash swallowed the office whole. The sound that came with it was not electrical. It was deeper. Like the crack of a tree splitting in winter. Then darkness.

Then the hum of the lights returning. Owen stumbled backward and caught himself on the desk taking a seat in Martin’s chair.

Everything felt wrong immediately. His shirt collar was tighter. His chest heavier. His knees less springy. His vision seemed lower and steadier and framed by a face that didn’t move the way he expected. He looked down and saw broad, older hands braced against polished wood. A silver watch. Dark hair dusting the forearms. The sleeves of a much more expensive shirt than he owned.

Across from him, behind the desk, stood a younger man with curly dark hair, startled blue-green eyes, and Owen’s face. Both of them froze.

Martin—inside Owen’s younger body—looked down at himself, then up again, all the color draining from his younger face.

Owen lifted one hand to his own mouth and felt the thick bristly mustache.

“No way” Owen muttered. But the deep breath that answered him came from Martin Pike’s chest.

Martin spoke first, except now his voice came out young and light and shaken. “What did you do?”

Owen stared at him. Then at the office window reflection. Then back.

His heart was hammering, but underneath the panic was something stranger. A hot, electric thrill.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said—and the voice that came out was Martin’s rough baritone. The sound of it made both of them flinch.

Martin lunged for the desk phone, fumbled it, nearly dropped it, and stared at the buttons like he had never seen one before.

Owen watched him. Martin jabbed the receiver, then stopped. He blinked. Looked at the monitor. Looked at the phone again.

“What—” His mouth opened and closed.

“What is extension for Sheila?” he demanded. Owen knew it instantly. Not remembered. Knew.

“Two-four-six-one,” he said.

Martin stared at him. Owen stared back.

And in that terrible suspended moment they both understood the second part of the disaster.

The swap had not only traded their bodies. It had taken Martin’s experience, instincts, and command of the job and dropped all of it into Owen. And it had stripped Martin bare.

Martin tried the phone again, slower this time, his hands clumsy. “Why don’t I know that?”

Owen’s pulse jumped. He turned toward the computer screen on the desk and, without thinking, reached for the mouse, opened the draft budget file, scanned it, and immediately understood the figures. The reporting categories. The errors. The fixes. Even the political implications behind how the memo needed to be phrased.

It flooded him so naturally that he almost laughed. Instead he whispered, stunned, “I know everything.”

Martin looked up sharply. For the first time in the history of their working relationship, Owen saw real fear in Martin Pike’s eyes.

The next hour passed in a blur of damage control. Martin wanted to call an ambulance. Then HR. Then, irrationally, the police. Owen, sitting in Martin’s chair because it felt weirdly natural, talked him out of all three.

“And say what?” Owen asked. “That your intern stole your body with office lighting?”

Martin paced in Owen’s younger body, full of restless energy he clearly didn’t know how to contain. “This is not funny.”

“I didn’t say it was funny.” But part of Owen did think it was. Not the body swap itself. That was insane. Catastrophic. Unfixable.

But the sensation of sitting in Martin’s office with Martin’s authority in his spine and Martin’s knowledge in his head? That part felt disturbingly, gloriously right.

When Sheila buzzed from reception asking if “Mr. Pike” still wanted the 4:30 moved, Owen answered without hesitation.

“Yes. Push it to tomorrow morning. Tell them I’ve reviewed the draft and I’ll send notes tonight.” He hung up. Martin stared.

Owen could feel a smile pressing at the corners of Martin’s mouth and fought it down. “We should play along for now.”

Martin’s younger face tightened. “Play along.”

“You don’t know how to do your job anymore. I do.” Owen said.

The words landed hard.

Martin sank slowly into the chair across from the desk—Owen’s usual chair, his own body folded into it with humiliating ease. “This can’t be permanent.”

“No,” Owen said. But he did not sound convincing. A few minutes later, Owen rose and said, “I need a minute.”

He did not ask permission. He simply walked into Martin Pike’s private bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him.

For a second he only stood there, staring at the stone counter, the soft recessed lighting, the framed abstract print on the wall. Martin had a private bathroom. Of course he did. It was absurdly polished, quiet, hidden away from everyone else, a small kingdom inside the office.

Then Owen looked up into the mirror. Martin Pike looked back. Bald crown. Salt-and-pepper hair around the sides. Thick bristly mustache. Stronger jaw than Owen had appreciated. Fine lines at the corners of the eyes. A face made handsome not by softness but by weathering. A face Owen had occasionally secretly fantasized about while masturbating…a face he now wore.

Owen stepped closer. He touched the mustache first, almost reverently, then the rougher skin of the cheek. His own expression—Martin’s expression now—shifted with wonder. He loosened the collar. Pressed a hand to the broad chest beneath the shirt. Turned sideways to study the older frame, the average build, the heavier solidity of it.

He laughed once under his breath, not because it was funny but because it felt impossible. He rolled Martin’s shoulders, testing them. Adjusted the tie. Met his own gaze in the mirror again and saw not just the body but the life wrapped around it: status, house, family, decisions, consequence.

For the first time in his life, nobody would look at him and see “young.” Nobody would call him eager like it was a flaw. Nobody would pat him on the back and tell him he had potential.

Potential was over. Power had arrived. Owen felt a surge of desire rise within himself. He removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He gave one nipple a little pinch, then the other - sensitive. He let out a soft baritone moan.

He started to unbutton his pants and then paused a moment…was he crossing a line? The very thought sent a shiver down his spine. He could feel his new older dick start to chub at the anticipation of discovering his new body - of Martin’s body.

Owen proceeded and as he pulled his boxers over his hairy bush his dick slowly becoming visible flopped out. “Whoa…” Owen thought at the sight of the 8” thick uncut penis now on full display. The sight of it turned Owen on - his erection grew.

He reached a thick hairy hand down and gave his new member a little tug. He inspected how the weight of his new member shifted, the way it responded. He reached behind and felt two golf ball sized nuts in a long dangling sack.

Owen grabbed his cock with one hand and started to pump his shaft. Softly at first but before long his body’s muscle memory shifted into gear and he moved up to the head - sliding his new foreskin over his glans. It felt sensitive in a way his younger cut cock did not. Gradually, his pace quickened. He started visualizing naked women - another “acquired skill.” The realization startled him at first but he shortly gave into the flow of his new urges. After a couple minutes imaging fucking a 25 year old admin in the office with perky breasts and a slim waist, Owen felt the heat build up across his body and release in an  instant as he ejaculated ropes of thick creamy cum on the mirror. “Whoa…” he muttered again before cleaning up. 

When Owen came back out, Martin was sitting hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the carpet still in shock.

“You were gone a while” Martin said somewhat suspiciously. Owen thought fast and made an excuse about older men and their prostates - which Martin seemed to half buy. Either way Martin wasn’t in the mood to discuss Owen touching his dick - either to pee or more likely not.

They left separately at the end of the day to avoid attention. Owen drove Martin’s car home under strict instructions on how to behave around his family and to not touch his wife.

For Owen, even the drive felt different. He sat differently. Thought differently. When he pulled into the driveway of Martin’s house just after six, he had to sit for a moment with both hands on the wheel. A large suburban home. Bikes near the garage. Porch light already on.

Then the front door opened and two children burst out shouting, “Dad!” Owen barely had time to brace before they hit him around the waist. A moment later Martin’s wife stepped into the doorway, smiling in tired relief. “You’re late.”

Owen looked at her, at the children, at the home he had inherited by accident. The warm smell of dinner drifted out past them. Domestic noise. Familiar intimacy meant for someone else. He should have felt horror. Instead he felt the scale of Martin’s life settling over him like a coat too heavy to shrug off.

Inside, family photos lined the hallway. Martin at a beach. Martin at a school play. Martin younger, less severe, one arm around his wife on their wedding day, full head of hair proudly on display - still with the same mustache. Evidence everywhere that the man Owen had known only as a voice behind a desk existed in three dimensions. And now Owen had walked into all of it.

Across town, Martin climbed the stairs to Owen’s apartment with a backpack slung over one shoulder and anger burning in his throat.

He hated how light his body felt. Hated the speed of it. Hated the way strangers smiled at him. Hated the way he caught his reflection in a darkened storefront and saw youth where authority should have been.

The apartment door opened before he could find the key. “Owen,” the roommate called from the kitchen, “you disappeared today. Also, your mom texted me again looking for you, and that guy from Hinge popped by again.”

Martin went still. “What?”

The roommate—a scruffy man in gym shorts, holding a spoon—looked up. “Uh. The guy with the arm tattoo? You said he was really hot but maybe too into hiking?”

Martin stared.

The roommate slowly lowered the spoon. “You okay?” Martin muttered something and shut himself in Owen’s bedroom.

It seemed smaller than his own bathroom at the office. That detail hit him with surprising force. A narrow bed. A laundry chair. Cheap blinds. A poster half crooked on the wall. Everything young and temporary and unfinished.

He sat on the edge of the mattress and buried his face in his hands. Then his phone buzzed. He looked down. A dating app notification.

A shirtless man with a perfect smile had sent a message. Another notification appeared behind it. Another face. Another body. Another invitation into a life Martin had never imagined himself inhabiting and now could not avoid.

His pulse jumped for reasons he did not want to examine too closely. He stood abruptly and went to the mirror over the dresser.

Owen looked back at him: curly dark hair, clear blue-green eyes, open face, smooth cheeks, youth bright in every line. Martin touched that unfamiliar face with slow, disbelieving fingers. Then lower—to throat, chest, waist—taking stock of a body that felt like trespassing and possibility all at once.

Panic came first. Then fascination. Then something even more dangerous: excitement.

On the phone, another message appeared. A man with dark stubble and laughing eyes. Handsome in a way Martin had once dismissed without thought. Now he found himself staring longer than he meant to.

He sat back down on the bed with the phone in his hand, breathing shallowly.

The room was quiet except for the buzz of a streetlight outside and the sounds of his roommate moving around in the kitchen. Martin’s thumb hovered. The younger body he wore felt suddenly less like a prison and more like a door he had not chosen but could still open.

He did not know what that meant yet. Only that he was not done looking. He scrolled through his message history filled with other young men asking about the size of his cock or what he was into. He stopped on one man he found particularly alluring - wet hair, mustache, shirtless image followed by several dick pics - it was big and hairy in a way that would have been off-putting to Martin yesterday, but today only piqued his curiosity.

Martin’s new younger body sprung into action. He could feel his dick pressing against his pants - pants he refused to remove since the swap in fear of what he would find - not even yet going to the bathroom. Well that was no longer a possibility.

Martin slowly undressed, removing his tie then shirt and finally his pants leaving just his boxers. He laid back down on the bed holding the phone above his head fixating on the image of the young mustached man. He reached down and rubbed his acquired dick through his boxers - feeling a surge of guilt and disgust at himself for the action but at the same time unable to control his new body’s hormonal urges.

Not yet ready to look at his new body’s dick he slid under the covers and took off his boxers. He reached his smaller younger hand around his now smaller member. He felt a twinge of disappointment in discovering his new dick stood fully erect at only 5”…and was cut. He started moving up and down the shaft before moving down to his now smaller testicles. He cupped them with one hand and slid the other up and down his shaft.

Before long his attention was pulled elsewhere as he felt the sudden urge to run his fingers around his asshole - as if the body was remembering what it liked and passed that info on to Martin. He reached into the nightstand and found some lube and a large dick-shaped dildo.

Again filled with a mix of curiosity and shame he lubed up the dildo and began rimming his tight young asshole with the toy. Eventually he pushed it in - causing him to almost cum on the spot. He let go of his dick - not yet ready to succumb. Instead, he focused on the new sensation of fullness in his ass as he slowly filled himself with the dildo - biting his lip at the mix of pain and pleasure that was foreign to him but desired by his new body. He perched his phone with the image of the handsome man to the side, grabbed his dick with one hand and the dildo with the other and let himself go. It didn’t take long before his new dick was shaking in ecstasy - cum shot with such youthful force it splattered on his chest and face. "Great," he thought ... "I'm a bottom."

After glowing in the after-light of a 20-something’s orgasm he rolled over and laid awake - mixed with a sense of curiosity and dread. And somewhere across the city, Owen—wearing Martin’s face, seated at Martin’s dinner table, answering to Martin’s name—was beginning to understand the same thing from the opposite direction: they had not simply traded bodies. They had traded access.

To power. To youth. To marriage. To freedom. To disappointment. To desire. To the lives each of them had secretly believed belonged to someone else.

By the time both men lay awake that night in borrowed beds, neither one was thinking first about how to switch back. They were thinking about what else might be possible if they didn’t.

*this was a reader's request... to be continued? Let me know what direction you think it should take.

[verus-veritas]

Super hot story with great POV and mirror images! Definitely check out this new blog that has some amazing stories!

[exploratorytfs]

Blocked

My roommate messed it up really bad with his girlfriend. I mean, I am not surprised, he really is a bit of a douche, but girls seem to be attracted to that type of thing sometimes. She told me a lot of what happened because we had some mutual classes and we became really close - girls seem at ease to tell gays everything. But it made the whole roommate situation a bit awkward because I was piggy in the middle and she wasn’t speaking to him and had blocked him everywhere.

After I refused to pass on his messages to her because I didn’t want to get involved, he walked off and came back with some random ring and then grabbed my shoulder. Before I could finish saying “What the f…” I was standing where he was standing, shirtless and with a much higher viewpoint. 

“What the fuck, why do you look like me?” I asked him, bewildered.

“Well, since you wouldn’t pass on my messages, I guess I will just have to do it myself. Jade loves her gay best friend and now I can convince her to get back with me. Fuck, I have missed her so much. And now I am you, James, she will listen to me! You just sit tight in my body, and I’ll be back later, right, Carl?” Man, did I always sound that gay when I was talking?

With that, he grabbed my bag and left for my lectures. I was pretty pissed, but secretly curious to see what my roommate was packing. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I had a bit of a crush on him and now was my opportunity. I started checking myself out in the mirror, but for some reason I couldn’t get hard. 

Normally the smell of these pits in the other room is enough to get me hard, but something was wrong. Then I started to think about what my roomie must have done to me while he is off talking to Jade. Fuck, Jade. That’s when I started to absentmindedly rub my bulge. Man, I never realised what guys saw in boobs, but now I am starting to get it. Damn, I want her so bad. I feel guilty now for not helping my roomie out - didn’t realise how much he was suffering. This body just has needs. I wish I could write to her, but she’s blocked this number. Let me text my old bod.

“hey dude, u spoken to her yet? this dick misses her so fukin bad” I wrote to him.

“Hey Roomie! Noooooo, not yet, we’re still just catching up on the usual hehe, she still really mad, so might be best to leave it a few weeks first, you know?” He replied.

What a bastard! I can’t just ignore this dick! Maybe I will message Lucy and see what she’s doing tonight. She told my former self she had a crush on me, so should be pretty easy to get her in my bed. Something is telling me that she is one of Jade’s best friends, but not sure what difference that makes to be honest, we’re just hooking up, nothing serious.

[immortalmrwavell]

TrainForU - Breaking Policy

“Jesus Christ… how the hell do men live with these things??” Yasmin grumbled as she did her best attempt at upward and downward facing dog poses while Scott’s cock throbbed between her legs. She tried to ignore it as best she could but each time she lowered herself she couldn’t help but shiver with unwanted pleasure as her bulge grazed the yoga mat. “Ughh… god.” She breathed with a flushed look.

Yasmin had never taken on a male client before today. As one of the many coaches at TrainForU, she exclusively took on female clients. It wasn’t part of the rules or anything but she just never liked the idea of a man being in her body. She was worried she’d come back at the end of the session to find him groping her body and pleasuring himself with it. Wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened to a female coach with a male client. Some of the women didn’t seem to care as much but Yasmin couldn’t stand the thought of unknowingly letting a pervert into her body for any period of time.

You see, TrainForU was a massive new company in the world of fitness. They utilised state of the art technology that allowed all kinds of fitness coaches to temporarily trade bodies with a client. During which the coach would take to training the client’s body while the client got to relax in the coach's body until the session was complete. Needless to say, the business of paying someone else to work out for you has proven to be extremely lucrative. So much so that the company is always setting up new locations and hiring as many coaches as they can to keep up with demand.

A lot of the coaches specialised in certain areas like burning fat or stacking on muscle. Yasmin’s specialty happened to be flexibility and strength training through yoga. She knew her craft well, proven by just how often her clients showered her with praise. So much so that a couple of her client’s husbands had even asked if she could do a session with them as well after hearing their wives rave about the difference her yoga expertise makes. Yasmin was flattered of course but she’d always redirect them to male coach who does yoga instead, always maintaining her ‘female clients only’ policy which most people respected.

Unfortunately that policy was torn to shreds when Yasmin’s manager asked her to step in and cover a Yoga session for a male client named Scott. The yoga coach Scott was supposed to be with, Adam, hadn’t shown up and right now Yasmin was the only other yoga specialist with a free slot in her schedule. She tried to refuse but the manager insisted. Apparently Scott was a very frequent and high paying client who worked with three different coaches at TrainForU to keep him in peak physical condition. However this was now the third time Adam had bailed and Scott was understandably pissed after having already paid for the session and didn’t want to reschedule. So for the sake of customer satisfaction, Yasmin’s manager practically gave her no choice but to fill in for Scott’s yoga session.

She met Scott soon after. He was a surprisingly handsome middle aged man. The type of guy who’d clearly aged like fine wine over the years. His sharp facial features were only accentuated by the few modest wrinkles that made him look rugged yet still approachable. What really caught Yasmin’s eye however was his completely shaven head; the light almost seemed to reflect off it. It worked for him though, helping to exude an effortless aura of confidence. That’s not even mentioning his radiant blue eyes that seemed to sparkle when he smiled. And beyond that his physique was very impressive too, all thanks to whichever coaches did his workouts. Even under his clothes she could tell he was jacked. Wide shoulders, thick veined arms and set of rock hard pecs. Those paired with his strong legs and suspected abs made him seem like the cookie cutter example of what a man should be.

As soon as they were introduced, Scott smiled and shook her hand with a strong grip. Yasmin still wasn’t happy about the whole situation but she made sure to stay professional as they walked to one of the swapping booths together. She supposed it could’ve been worse though. If she had to be in a man’s body then at least she was getting a good looking one. She could only hope Scott would be respectful with her body in the meantime. He seemed nice enough from what she could tell but you can never be sure with men. In Yasmin’s experience, almost all men had dick for brains.

The swap was fast. One minute Yasmin was stepping into the booth as a curvy 29 year old woman, the next she was stepping out as a ripped 47 year old man. To say she felt a little out of her comfortable zone would be an understatement. She was used to inhabiting all different shapes and sizes of female bodies but this was a whole different ball game. Gone was any hint of supple femininity; in its place she felt an overwhelming sense of sturdiness. It was as if Scott’s body was a walking wall of iron where every movement she made felt as though it was charged with effortless power. Even the proportions were different in a way that made it awkward for Yasmin to find her centre of balance. The sudden absence of breasts, now replaced by broad pecs. The narrower hips and larger waist eliminated any sense of a curvy figure, leaving only hard ridges and a rectangular frame that was so anatomically different from what he knew. She didn’t even want to acknowledge the sudden phallic weight in between her legs.

One of the first things Yasmin did was run one of her large man hands over her bald head with morbid curiosity. She did it almost on instinct the second she stepped out of the booth as she noticed a draft blow across her scalp. The skin was slightly rough with only the tiniest, barely noticeable, pricklings of hair growing. She’d never felt anything like it. It was so bizarre that she almost didn’t notice when Scott went in for yet another handshake.

“Thanks again for the fill in. I really appreciate it.” He said, both looking and sounding rather chipper. Now far from the picture of frustration Yasmin’s manager had painted him as before she’d unwittingly agreed to this. She couldn’t tell if it was Scott’s first time in a woman’s body or not. He shifted his weight a little awkwardly at first but he didn’t seem all that bothered by it either.

Yasmin reached out and accepted the handshake, slightly thrown off by how one of her big new man hands seemed to engulf her old one. “Of course-” She stopped short at the sound of her voice, her free hand moving up towards her throat where she massaged the prominent adam’s apple jutting out. Her voice was… deep. Not insanely so but still very clearly a man’s voice. “It’s… It’s no problem at all.” She continued, trying to hide her bewilderment in an attempt to regain an air of professionalism.

It was only a small relief when Scott tried to assure Yasmin he’d be respectful of her body. She appreciated the sentiment and the fact that he hadn’t walked out of the booth squeezing her breasts like she feared helped to calm her worries a little. He hadn’t given her a reason to doubt him so far with him only having touched her body in a purely curious way so far like she had with his. But that didn’t stop her mind from telling her that he might’ve just been waiting until he found somewhere private in the building to start being a pervert. Either way there wasn’t much she could do about it now. She could only watch her former ass sway away from her as Scott began making his way towards the lounge after wishing her a good session.

Yasmin bowed her head in silence for a moment. She let out a long disgruntled sigh before finally forcing herself to move in the opposite direction towards the yoga suite. Even the way Scott’s body moved felt so alien to her. Her arms and shoulders seemed to have more of a natural sway to them as she found herself subconsciously puffing her chest out a little. Though honestly Yasmin couldn’t bring herself to care about any of that when most of her attention was focused on the uncomfortable bulge in Scott’s shorts. It made her wonder how the hell men managed to walk around everyday with these things. She only had a pair of balls for less than ten minutes and she’d already stopped countless times to try and subtly adjust her crotch in an effort to make it feel more comfortable. All the while she was trying not to trip over her huge new feet with every step she took.

She was relieved when she finally made her way to one of the yoga studios. She’d normally go for one of the nicer ones further down the hall but she couldn’t stand the thought of even one more person seeing her grab at her crotch. So she settled for the first room she could find. Unfortunately the room she picked had recently been cleaned out in preparation for refurbishment meaning It was pretty barren with only the bare essentials left. No radio or candles, just a wall mirror, a table with some draws and a yoga mat. Yasmin didn’t care though. She just wanted to get this session over and done with so neither she nor Scott had to spend any longer in each other's bodies than necessary.

She kicked off his shoes and socks and began with some simple poses and breathing exercises. Making sure to start easy and build up to the harder stuff as she adjusted to the body. She tried her best to close her eyes and forget that she was a man, imagining herself to just be working for another of her female clients but the mirror was quick to remind her of reality when she inevitably opened them again. And of course… the dick and balls. Instead she just had to try and embrace it as best she could. Telling herself that at the very least Scott was undeniably handsome. If she had to be stuck in a man’s body for an hour or so, there were definitely worse options. The face that stared back at her in the mirror was chiselled, charming and no doubt had the ability to seduce almost anyone with a single smirk. The more she stared at herself, the more she began to appreciate that.

Slowly but surely, Yasmin found her rhythm. It took a bit longer than it did with her female clients but after about twenty minutes of basic yoga, she was finally starting to get a handle on her masculine new shape and weight. Before she moved onto the real stuff however, she decided to ditch the shirt. She was hesitant to do so at first but she could already feel that Scott’s body was quick to sweat, backed up by the fact that his shirt was still damp from the weight lifting session another coach had done for him earlier.

As soon as the shirt was off, Yasmin’s eyes couldn’t help but widen slightly at the sight of Scott’s bare torso. Feeling his pecs and abs hidden under the shirt was one thing but actually looking down and seeing them proper was something else entirely. She could actually feel her heartbeat begin to race the second she laid eyes upon them. Even more so as she turned to the mirror. Seeing Scott in just a pair of gym shorts was… enamouring. Her concerns about her real body had stopped her from truly seeing it until this very moment but damn if the body wasn’t a total stud. She almost found herself blushing a little as she stared at herself.

When she started running her hands across Scott’s rock hard abs, she told herself it was nothing more than professional curiosity. When she found herself squeezing and flexing her biceps, she told herself it was because it might be her only change to feel this strong. When she began groping her pecs she told herself that it was a cathartic way of getting back at the dudes who’d groped her chest in clubs. Her excuses only got flimsier and flimsier when in reality there was only one reason for it all. She was horny as hell for this body. However Yasmin was about to discover that it's not so easy to hide your arousal as a man.

“Ugghhh… No-no-no stop… grrahh.” She grunted as her attention was quickly pulled back to her crotch where a large tent was swiftly beginning to form in her shorts. Yasmin found herself panicking and grabbing at the growing bulge in the hopes she could stop it from throbbing in bigger but her touch only made it worse. Before long she was sporting her first ever erection, huge and uncomfortable as it strained against both her shorts and underwear.

“Oh god…. Yasmin sighed, not knowing what to do. “Fuck. How do I make it go down?” In that moment she had to admit, she felt like a hypocrite. She’d been worrying about Scott being a pervert in her body. Meanwhile here she was in his body with a massive boner after having just spent a good few minutes feeling up his muscles. She wasn’t sure if it was all the testosterone and heightened sex drive she wasn’t used to yet that was making her feel this way but god it was embarrassing. “Pull yourself together girl.” She told herself… but it did nothing to quell her erection.

She hoped that maybe taking off the shorts and continuing in just underwear would make the massive bulge a little less comfortable. In hindsight it was hard to tell if it was her own naivety that brought her to that decision or if she was actually just making up another excuse to remove more layers of clothing from Scott’s body. Either way it didn’t work. Instead she found herself admiring her thighs a little before her attention inevitably diverted towards Scott’s tight ass. Her mouth went dry as she turned to admire those muscular globes in the mirror. It was fascinating. His glutes felt much more compact than any feminine backside she’d experienced. They were smaller but they had more of a defined shape that was oddly alluring. Yasmin had always been a connoisseur of the male ass, always appreciating what her past boyfriends had packed in their trucks. But actually having a man butt was something else. The way those shapely squeezed into buns of steel when flexed but became soft and pliable the moment she relaxed them was enough to make her mouth water.

Needless to say, stripping down further did nothing to help her erection. If anything it was throbbing and twitching even more aggressively now against the white boxer briefs she still had on. The crude outline of Scott’s fat angry cock only became harder to contain as she cupped her new ass slightly. After that she almost couldn’t stop her brain from running wild with fantasies about fucking her own muscle butt until she’d stuffed it full of…

“Nope!” Yasmin shouted upon catching herself before she was able to sink any deeper into those perverse fantasies. “Stop staring at his ass! Focus Yas. Focus.” She was supposed to be a professional, she told herself. Did the other coaches struggle with this when swapping with the gender that aligned with their sexual preferences? If so they never told her. It’s not like it was something that was specifically mentioned in their training before getting certified. Only that they had to be appropriate and disciplined when using a clients body, two things she was currently failing at.

She took a few long deep breaths in an effort to re-centre herself, relax and overcome this body’s instincts. It partially worked as her cock softened to about half mast instead. Still a bit uncomfortable but it would have to do.

With that Yasmin tried her best to put her game face back on. She was determined to prove to herself that she could overcome this and not allow herself to fall down the same path as all the pervy creeps out there she despised. And once this was over, it was back to female clients only.

She got into the Yoga mat and started her next routine. Stretching Scott’s muscles with a wide variety of poses while not allowing them to distract her. Strengthening his balance along with his joints. Making sure to keep Scott’s form in good posture at all times. But despite her effort, she still struggled to reach the level of perfection she normally strived for with intrusive male genitals constantly getting in the way. There were multiple points where she had to momentarily disrupt a pose just so she could adjust the position of her half hard cock. Same went for adjusting her now sweaty balls whenever she pulled her thighs close together. But her breaking point really came when she started doing those damn upward facing dog poses…

“Jesus Christ… how the hell do men live with these things??” She found herself grumbling, unable to stop her bulge from gazing against the mat every time she lowered herself from downward to upward facing dogs. Ignoring it became significantly harder when the gentle stimulation was slowly causing the shaft to stiffen up again. Those unwanted sparks of pleasure rattling along her spine and zapping her brain with lust. “Ughh… god.” She breathed with a flushed look as she tried not to let it break her. She’d been doing so well! But she couldn’t stop her borrowed cock from stiffening like an iron rod once more.

In truth she could’ve prevented this. She could’ve moved onto a different pose. One that was less ‘accidentally stimulating’. Yet she didn’t. Deep down she knew it was intentional even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. She’d act like it was the fault of this stupid sexy body and it’s stupidly horny cock. But really… Yasmin was just a hypocrite.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Yasmin jumped back up onto her feet before hooking her thumbs under the waistband of the white boxers. She yanked them down in one swift motion, allowing them to fall to her ankles. Her mouth hung agape as she watched Scott’s cock leap forwards enthusiastically, bucking and throbbing as if it were pleased to be free of its fabric prison as last. A small bead of precum leaked from the tip out of excitement while Scott’s balls hung heavy underneath, eager to churn out a load.

“Whoa.” Yasmin muttered almost involuntarily at the sight. Honestly though, it was the only correct response to seeing a dick as mighty as what Yasmin was now carrying between her muscular thighs. ‘An absolute weapon of a cock’ some might call it. She already knew it was big based on the bulge alone but actually getting to see it in its full glory was something else entirely. Now she could really see just how hypnotic of a cock it truly was. It was longer than most of the men Yasmin had slept with in the past from what she could tell. She assumed around seven inches. But the girth of it? Good lord. She could already imagine how incredible it would feel for the velvety walls of any ass or pussy to stretch around it. Even the throbbing pink head was huge, leading down to a shaft that got slightly thicker in the middle. Yasmin even noticed a very subtle bend halfway down that caused it to lean slightly to the right. It was a sight to behold for sure.

She knew she shouldn’t do it. She knew she’d be betraying everything she stood for if she did. But her own lust mixed with copious amounts of testosterone flooding her brain made it so hard to resist. Yasmin wasn’t strong enough to resist the temptation as it pulled her hands downwards. Before she knew it, she had one hand wrapped firmly around the girth of Scott’s dick while the other hand cradled Scott’s balls in a way that felt erotically comforting.

Once Yasmin started pumping, there was no going back. It was as though her hand had been possessed by the girthy appendage it was stroking and now she just couldn’t bear to stop. Her hand simply moved on its own now, gliding up and down the considerable length as Yasmin tossed her head back in ecstasy. The pleasure was so different from what she knew as a woman. Before she'd have to root around for just the right spots inside her pussy to really ignite those orgasmic sensations. But dicks were just so much simpler. All she had to do was stroke, stroke and stroke some more to receive endless amounts of animalistic pleasure rocketing through her every fibre. Even the sensitivity of it was so addictive that in her horny daze Yasmin began to understand why men were always so fucking sex crazed. Dicks were amazing!

She lost all sense of time as her mind fell deeper and deeper into a vast ocean of hunger and lust. Eyes still transfixed on Scott’s cock as if it really had hypnotised her somehow. All the while gently rolling and massaging her balls as she bit her lip gently in an effort to stifle her deep involuntary moans. All sense of reason had gone out the window and now there was only one way this could end.

Yasmin dug up the strength to tear her eyes away from her cock so that she could tilt her gaze up towards the mirror once again. In the reflection, she couldn’t even see a glimmer of the woman she was inside. Instead all she saw was a hunky middle aged man who couldn’t keep his hands off himself. But that didn’t stop her. Instead her gaze remained fixed on the glass, eyes scanning Scott’s body from head to toe with an unfiltered desire. She let go of her balls simply so she could run her hands along her powerful physique again. Grabbing at Scott’s pecs and pinching the smaller but still surprisingly sensitive male nipples that tipped them. Worshipping her borrowed abs as they dripped with sweat. Flexing and kissing her left bicep unapologetically. Even going so far as to turn to the side a little so she could get another long look at Scott’s gorgeous male ass as she groped and smacked it. All the while her right hand remained locked in a death grip as she only pumped her cock faster and harder.

Naturally, having been a woman all her life, Yasmin wasn’t sure what a male orgasm felt like. However when the sensitivity of dick began to spike all of a sudden, she could only assume this was it. The pleasure began to double, then triple as she felt herself crossing an invisible line of no return. The last thing she saw was Scott’s handsome face twisted with perverted desire staring back at her, mouth hanging open in an almost silent moan and eyes wide with a burning hunger before they rolled back. The pleasure spiked again as she instinctively bucked her hips and clenched her muscle ass. Her balls tightened and the next thing Yasmin knew, she was on cloud nine as thick hot liquid came rushing through her cock.

She made an absolute mess. A fountain of cum rocketed from her dick, giving the mirror a generous splattering of man seed. The first few shots were the most intense, cock spasming erratically as it drained as Yasmin drained as much of Scott’s ball batter as she could. It was only after about four or five heavy shots that it started to slow down, cum now landing in heavy globs on the yoga mat below instead of the mirror. Even as Yasmin quickly came down from the high of a male orgasm, that virile cock continued to spit and drool until every last drop of semen had been milked from her balls.

Moments later Yasmin fell to her knees before the puddles of cum she’d left behind “Fuuuuuuuuckkk… my life…” She scolded herself. Alongside a male orgasm it seemed she also got to experience post-nut clarity because she immediately felt a wave of embarrassment crash over her. “Why the fuck did I do that…” she grumbled. In that moment she hated herself for somehow giving into temptation. She felt guilty for betraying her own standards and using someone else’s body in a way she claimed to hate. And the worst part of it was… she didn’t even regret it. Because god fucking damn did it feel good. Even now every powerful muscle in her body felt so relaxed after experiencing that sweet release. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a small part of her that wanted to do it again. She probably would’ve had it not been for the male refractory period clearing her mind enough to know she’d already gone three steps too far.

Instead Yasmin picked herself back, Scott’s now flaccid dick still dripping slightly, and looked around the barren studio for anything she could use to clean up. She was in luck. As she checked the drawers under the table she discovered a single towel. It wasn’t very big but it would do. She cleaned herself off first, wiping the sweat from her face and body before wiping off her, still sensitive post orgasm, cock. “Hm. It’s kinda cute now it’s all soft.” She mused as she held the now much less intimidating dick for a moment.

Cleaning up all that cum was an exercise in itself. Wiping down the mirror as best she could and scrubbing the yoga mat. All with the same towel. By the end, there wasn’t a single part of the towel that didn’t feel at least a tiny bit sticky. Meanwhile the mirror still looked a bit smudged and the mat already had a few low grade stains. The mat she could take with her to clean later. As for the mirror… the room was getting refurbished anyway.

It was only as Yasmin was slipping back into Scott’s underwear that it dawned on her to check the time. She glanced up at the clock on the far side of the room. She’d been in here for almost an hour already! And she spent half of that time groping herself and masturbating! The session was only supposed to be an hour as it was so Scott would be expecting her back any minute now. Sure she’d done some yoga but not nearly as much as she should’ve. Would he even notice? Or worse yet, would he notice that she jacked off?

She tried her best to shake off the worries and decided to just give herself an extra fifteen minutes. Her next proper client wasn’t for another half an hour anyway and this way she could at least make sure she got some advanced Yoga in without making Scott wait too long. So that’s what she did. And she did so in only Scott’s underwear, not bothering to put the shorts and shirt back on just yet.

Honestly it was a hell of a lot easier without a constant half erection. Sure the cock and balls still got in the way a little but it was manageable enough for fifteen minutes. During which she made sure to really pull out some of her best poses and stretches to make sure Scott would feel the difference (and hopefully not notice how spent his dick was). And she made sure to keep a close eye on the clock this time around so that the moment her fifteen minutes were up, she could get the hell out of here and be done with this whole confusing experience.

Before long she finished her final few poses before getting dressed again in Scott’s shorts and shirt. Even as she tugged her socks and shoes onto her large feet, Yasmin could still feel her heart hammering away from the whole experience. It was almost like anxiety in a way. Like the feeling you get when you’ve done something you know to be taboo. All she could do was try to control her breathing as she rolled up the yoga mat. And just as she was walking out of the room, she swiped up the sticky towel so that she could drop it off in the first laundry bin she saw on the walk out of the Yoga suite.

Yasmin later found Scott sitting in the lounge watching football on one of the many TV’s scattered around. It was pretty jarring to see her female body manspreading on the couch. Honestly though, after experiencing what it was like to have balls, she could almost understand why most men did it now.

Before going up to him, she asked one of the lounge receptionists about how he’d been behaving. Asking if he’d dipped away into toilets for a suspiciously long time or if he’d been not so subtly feeling it himself up in the lounge. Her heart sank when the receptionist told her Scott had been just as well behaved as he was with any of the male coaches. He’d stayed in the lounge the entire time politely conversing with the clients and staff. No funny business. She should’ve been relieved that he’d stuck to his word and respected her body but if anything she was hoping he’d was a pervert purely so she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about being one herself…

“Hey Scott.” She said as nonchalantly as possible while trying to put on her professional voice despite everything that just happened. “Sorry for the wait. I got a little carried away and lost track of time. I wanted to give it my all with some of my best techniques to make up for the inconvenience with Adam.” She lied rather convincingly.

Scott waved her off. “No worries at all. I appreciate the effort and you taking time out of your day for me.” He said as he jumped up from the coach. “Back to the booth then I suppose?”

Yasmin nodded. “Yup. Then we’re all done.”

The walk to the booth was… somewhat awkward. Mostly for Yasmin. Normally she’s good at small talk, always chatting with her clients whenever she gets the chance. But after what just went down, her mind was blank. If anything found herself zoning out a little. Just enough for her to lose focus and almost trip over her feet again, clearly still not used to their size.

“You alright?” Scott half chuckled.

Yasmin smiled awkwardly “Y-yeah. Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention was all.”

Scott patted her on the shoulder. “Not used to being a man huh?”

Yasmin’s eyes flickered up to him with confusion. She could swear she hadn’t mentioned to him about her female clients only policy. How did he…?

“I assume anyway. I was chatting with some of the other people in the lounge and they all seemed surprised when they found out I was a dude. I can only guess you normally only do this with women?”

Yasmin sighed with a small grin. “Ahh.” Now it made sense. “Yeaahhh. I don’t normally work with men, no offence.”

Scott held his hands up. “None taken. If anything I’m honored to have been your first. I’ve only traded with a small handful of ladies myself. Quite the head spinner isn’t it?”

“It’s uhhh… it’s definitely something yeah.” Yasmin gulped, glancing down at herself as flash memories of flexing Scott’s muscles and blowing his load danced across her mind. “But it made my session for you a little more interesting… I suppose.”

They reached the booth soon after. The two of them stepped inside and before they knew it they were back in their rightful bodies again. Yasmin stepped out with a sigh of familiarity knowing that the bulge between her legs was gone. She was shorter again. No more big manly muscles. No more pecs. Just soft womanly curves like she was used to. By all accounts she should’ve been relieved and yet…

“Mmmm wow! You did a great job.” Scott said as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back a little. “It feels like you managed to release tension I didn’t even know was there. You really know your stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good after one of Adam’s sessions.” He praised her.

Yasmin was a little taken aback. “Oh! Really? Uhm… no problem. I’m just doing my job y’know?” She felt a red flush creeping up her cheeks as her eyes flickered across Scott’s body again. Sure he was hot but what she felt was more than just an attraction towards an undeniably sexy older man. No. What she was feeling was deeper than that now. Getting to experience his male body in such an intimate way had flipped some kind of switch inside her mind. She’d never wanted to swap with a man before she couldn’t stop thinking about all the unique feelings and sensations that came with being inside a man’s body. All that strength and size had been intoxicating. All that testosterone. All those muscles. And… jerking off. It was all so addictive! And now that she’d gotten a taste, she couldn’t help but find herself wanting more.

“It’s too bad I can’t have you all the time.” Scott commented as they made their way back to the front desk.

What Yasmin said next shocked her more than it did Scott. “Well… If you’d like I could consider making you my first official male client. If you want.”

“Really? I’d be honoured!” Scott beamed.

Before Yasmin knew it, she and Scott were asking the front receptionist to change his already booked appointments with Adam so they he could be booked in with her instead. The receptionist had given her a quick look as if to ask whether Yasmin was sure about this but Yasmin nodded to confirm. She almost couldn’t believe she was actually doing it but soon enough Scott’s name had been saved into her calendar. As soon as that was taken care of, he offered Yasmin a third and final handshake before thanking her again for having him on as a client.

As she watched Scott march happily towards the exit, the spindlely old receptionist leaned over the desk towards her. “Since when do you take on men?” She asked curiously.

Yasmin shrugged, not even turning to look as she kept her gaze firmly on Scott even after he’d walked through the sliding doors and into the car park. “I’m trying to be a little more open minded… I guess.” She said while already thinking about how she’d worship Scott’s body in her next session with him. Maybe she could convince him to book a longer time slot too. Either way one thing was for certain, any and all future sessions with Scott would undoubtedly be naked (and very horny) yoga.

If any other writers out there want to use the TrainForU company concept then feel free! I’d love to see what kinds of shenanigans some of might imagine goes down there ❤️

[inkyquillstories]

Out of Our Minds (A Body Swap Story)

Note: The discord version of this story has some videos and more photos. If you would like to read that version, you can find it here: https://discord.gg/mMY9wSu4rS

The Beginning 

Walter James Holloway, born in 1959, was a lifelong Kentucky auto mechanic, known for his grit and hard work. Years of heavy eating and little exercise had left him overweight, but he found comfort in his routines—working under car hoods by day, unwinding with a cigar by night. His bond with his son, Daniel, was distant, but with his grandson, Ryan, it was different. Ryan admired his old-school ways, even when they clashed.

Born in 1999 and shaped by Chicago, Ryan David Holloway was athletic, disciplined, and ambitious. A 6'2", 215-pound physical therapist, he dedicated himself to helping others regain mobility. City life was expensive, so when he needed a more affordable place to stay, Walter offered him a room. The arrangement suited them both—Walter enjoyed the company, and Ryan appreciated the short commute to his sports rehab job.

The night of the accident, the chill in the air had been sharper than expected. Walter had shivered, rubbing his thick hands together before eyeing Ryan’s coat. His own was too thin for the dropping temperature, so Ryan handed over his heavier jacket without a second thought. Neither man realized the mistake—their wallets, tucked into their respective coat pockets, had now been switched. As they got into the car, Walter stubbornly insisted on driving. He claimed Ryan had drunk too much at the gathering, even though Ryan had barely touched his glass. The old man wouldn’t listen, convinced that his grandson was unfit to drive. Reluctantly, Ryan let him take the wheel.

The hum of the highway filled the silence between them. Walter’s hands gripped the wheel firmly at first, but then his fingers slackened. A wave of dizziness hit him, his vision narrowing to a tunnel. His chest tightened, and for a split second, his mind blanked—his body freezing up as he experienced a transient ischemic attack. The car swerved wildly. Ryan reacted instantly, reaching over to grab the wheel, but the sudden movement only made things worse. Tires screeched, the vehicle spun, and before either of them could fully comprehend what was happening, they crashed headlong into the highway divider. The impact sent the car flipping multiple times before it crumpled into a final, jarring stop.

The collision was so violent that their skulls fractured, and their brains were ejected from their heads upon impact. Walter’s brain, dislodged from his shattered skull, landed just beside Ryan’s unconscious body, while Ryan’s brain tumbled near Walter’s motionless form. The grotesque sight painted the wreckage in tragedy, their identities now quite literally displaced.

Emergency responders arrived to find both men unconscious, their skulls fractured from the violent collision. The impact had been so severe that their brains were ejected from their heads upon impact. Walter’s brain, dislodged from his shattered skull, landed just beside Ryan’s unconscious body, while Ryan’s brain tumbled near Walter’s motionless form. The grotesque sight painted the wreckage in tragedy, their identities now quite literally displaced.

Paramedics rushed them to the nearest hospital, where chaos and confusion took hold. Due to their exchanged coats, the hospital staff misidentified them. Their last names matched, their faces were too swollen to compare to their IDs, and in the frantic rush to surgery, no one double-checked. Their medical files were also misplaced and mislabeled, further cementing the misidentification.

Relying on mislabeled records, the lead neurosurgeon reviewed their brain scans. One brain, though outwardly resembling that of an elderly individual, exhibited an unusual level of rapid healing—traits typically found in much younger patients. This was, in reality, Walter’s brain, but the accident had triggered a restoration process that made it appear younger. The other brain, while structurally younger, showed significant inflammation and signs of deterioration more commonly associated with advanced age. This was actually Ryan’s brain, which had suffered more damage from the accident, making it seem far older than it truly was.

The medical team analyzed the locations where the brains had landed, mistakenly believing that the brain near the muscular body belonged to the younger patient and the brain near the older, overweight body belonged to the elderly man. Compounded by misidentification and limited time, the surgeons made a catastrophic assumption—believing Ryan’s brain to belong to Walter and Walter’s brain to belong to Ryan. 

The hospital staff proceeded with what they thought was a life-saving operation. They addressed the extensive trauma to their skulls and bodies, miraculously sparing their internal organs. After repairing the fractures, they carefully placed the dislodged brains into what they assumed were their correct bodies. What should have been a clerical correction became a medical catastrophe.

The Awakening

Walter awoke with a start, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. His vision blurred for a moment, then sharpened with a clarity he hadn’t experienced in years. He blinked, confused. Wait… he thought, reaching up to rub his eyes. His hand—his hand—caught his attention. It was large, strong, and calloused, but not from decades of wrenching on cars. This was something else entirely. He flexed his biceps, marveling at the ease with which they moved. No stiffness. No ache.

He sat up slowly, the movement effortless, and glanced around the hospital room. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nose, but his body felt… different. Alive. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. His knees didn’t creak. His back didn’t protest. He stood, his breath catching in his throat as he realized just how tall he was. He felt… powerful.

Walter took a few tentative steps, each one feeling lighter than the last. His feet carried him with a grace he hadn’t known in decades. He glanced down at his body—Wait, this isn’t my body. His chest was broad, his arms muscular, his waist trim. He ran his hands over his torso, his fingers tracing the contours of hard muscle. This isn’t me. His heart raced as he stumbled toward the bathroom, his reflection in the mirror stopping him dead in his tracks.

Staring back at him was Ryan.

Walter froze, his breath hitching. No. No, this can’t be real. He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he reached up to touch the mirror. The face—Ryan’s face—mimicked his movements perfectly. He turned his head, examining the sharp jawline, the stubble that shadowed his face, the piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a life of their own. This… this is Ryan’s body.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Walter—now in Ryan’s body—grabbed Ryan’s smartphone from the nightstand. He tapped the screen, the bright glow illuminating his new, youthful face. His heart pounded with exhilaration as he stared into the selfie camera, tilting his head to admire the sharp jawline, the smooth skin untouched by age. He ran a hand through his thick hair, relishing the unfamiliar yet thrilling sensation. The reflection staring back at him was strong, vibrant—everything he had lost over the years, now his to claim.

Bringing the phone back into the bathroom, he placed it on the sink, angling the camera just right before hitting record. Walter flexed, watching his bicep swell with power, then smirked as he reached under his arm, rubbing the thick patch of armpit hair with satisfaction. The sensation sent a wave of pride through him—this body was youthful, masculine, perfect. Grinning, he grabbed the phone, lowering the camera to capture the tight ridges of his abs, tracing a hand over them possessively before finally lifting the phone to his face. His smirk widened as he locked eyes with his reflection, drinking in his own smug satisfaction.

But the curiosity didn’t stop there. His eyes drifted lower, over his flat stomach, toward the waistband of his hospital-issued pants.

His heart pounded as he slid them down, revealing the thick, heavy weight of Ryan’s bulge. Walter’s breath hitched, his fingers trembling as removed his underwear. He touched his new cock and it was warm, heavy, and currently his own. He gave it an experimental stroke, a moan escaping his lips as pleasure shot through him...

Then he observed it even more and began to make his dick and balls swing like a pendulum

He leaned against the wall, his knees weak as he continued to stroke himself, the sensations overwhelming. His other hand wandered, exploring every inch of his new body. He pinched his nipples, gasping as the sparks of pleasure intensified. He ran his fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, down his sides, over his hips. Every touch felt electric.

Walter paused, his nostrils flaring as he caught a whiff of something. He lifted his arm, touching his armpit hair and then inhaling deeply. The scent was musky, masculine, and familiar. It was Ryan’s scent—his cologne, his sweat, him. Walter’s cock twitched in his hand, his arousal spiking. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned in, burying his face in the crook of his elbow, breathing in the intoxicating aroma. It was primal, raw, and his.

His strokes grew faster, his body trembling with need. He tilted his head back, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as pleasure coiled tightly in his gut. This is… this is too much. But he couldn’t stop. His hips bucked into his hand, his cock throbbing with every stroke. He moaned, the sound low and guttural, filling the small bathroom. His balls tightened, his release building with every passing second.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his grip tightening as he edged closer and closer to the brink. His muscles tensed, his body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him. And then he was there, his orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave. He came with a shout, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum spurted onto the floor. He collapsed against the sink, his legs trembling as he rode out the aftershocks, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Walter stared at the mess he’d made, a strange mix of guilt and satisfaction swirling in his chest. He had just jacked off in his grandson’s body. What the hell is wrong with me? But even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t deny the exhilaration coursing through him. This body—Ryan’s body—was incredible. And it was his right now.

He cleaned himself up, his mind racing as he tried to process everything. He needed to figure out what had happened. How he’d ended up in Ryan’s body. But for now, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of… excitement. He looked at his reflection one more time, a sly grin spreading across his face. This is going to be interesting.

Ryan’s consciousness drifted back slowly, his mind groggy as if weighed down by something heavy. His whole body felt wrong—bloated, sluggish, stiff. A dull ache radiated through his limbs, his joints protesting even the slightest movement. His chest rose and fell, but his breaths were deeper, heavier, almost labored. Something was off—terribly off. His heart pounded, but instead of its usual strong, steady rhythm, it felt slower, weaker, unfamiliar. He swallowed hard, his throat raw and dry, and when he moved his hands, they felt thicker, rougher. Panic crept in.

His fingers brushed against his face, and his stomach dropped. His skin was loose, not firm and smooth like it should be. He traced over deep wrinkles, then moved up to his head—his hair. His heart clenched. The thick, youthful strands were gone, replaced by thinning hair and a balding scalp. His breath quickened as he looked down, only to see a broad, heavy gut stretching his hospital gown. His arms were thicker, softer, with veins more pronounced and skin slightly sagging. His chest was heavier, fleshier, completely wrong.

This wasn’t his body. His hands fumbled beside him, landing on a pair of glasses on the nightstand. His trembling fingers slid them on, and suddenly, the world snapped into focus. Desperation overtook him as he reached blindly for the phone on the nightstand, his unfamiliar, clumsy hands struggling to grip it properly. He turned on the screen, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he opened the camera app and switched to selfie mode. His entire body froze. Staring back at him was Walter. His grandfather’s face. 

The lined, aging skin, the receding hair, the tired, sunken eyes—it was all there. His breath hitched as he slowly touched his cheek, watching Walter’s reflection mimic his every movement. His fingers trailed down to his heavy jaw, the rough stubble, the loose skin of his neck. His horror deepened as he lowered the phone, angling it toward his chest—the bulky stomach, the unfamiliar flesh. His own grandfather’s body. His vision blurred—not from the lack of glasses, but from pure, overwhelming dread. The phone slipped from his hands, clattering onto the sheets as he screamed. This couldn’t be real. But it was.

In the other room, Walter’s exploration was cut short when a sound froze him in place. A voice. A voice he had known all his life. His own voice—but weak, hoarse, and laced with panic. He cleaned himself up immediately and wore his hospital robes once more. 

Walter turned abruptly, his heart pounding. He followed the noise, pushing open the door and stepping into the hallway. Another hospital room. He moved quickly, his newfound speed shocking him. As he approached, he heard rustling, then a sharp intake of breath—followed by a scream.

Walter shoved the door open and stopped in his tracks.

Walter froze in the doorway, his breath hitching as he got his first real look at the body he had left behind. His old body. Ryan was sitting on the hospital bed, hunched forward, his face twisted in shock and horror. But it wasn’t just the face—it was everything. The broad, sloping gut, the soft arms, the sagging flesh hanging from his neck. Was this really what he had looked like all this time? The sight sent a shiver of revulsion down his spine. He had always known he was overweight and old, but seeing it from the outside made it so much worse. How had he lived like this? His breath was heavier, his posture slouched, his very presence sluggish. Walter clenched his jaw, forcing down the wave of disgust and relief threatening to bubble up. Because now, that wasn’t him anymore.

Ryan’s head snapped up at the sound of movement, and his breath caught. A man stood in the doorway—young, muscular, shirtless. His body. His body was standing there, staring at him. His stomach twisted in confusion. How was this possible? His pulse pounded as the world sharpened. The stranger wasn’t a stranger. He knew that face—the sharp jawline, the confident stance, the broad chest. But it was wrong.

Walter took a slow step forward, his powerful legs carrying him effortlessly, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. "Ryan," he said cautiously, pretending to hesitate.

Ryan inhaled sharply at the sound of his own voice coming from someone else’s mouth. His hands clutched the hospital sheets, knuckles white. “No… no, no, no… that can’t be…” He swallowed hard, his throat tight, his body trembling as he looked up at the man—at himself. “Grandpa?” His voice wasn’t his voice. It was rougher, weaker—Walter’s.

Walter nodded slowly, as if the realization pained him, but inside, he felt a thrill of satisfaction. "I don't know how," he said, carefully keeping his tone neutral, masking the excitement rising in his chest. “But we woke up like this. We woke up as each other.”

Ryan let out a shaky exhale, staring down at himself in disbelief, his hands gripping at the thickened flesh of his stomach. His own grandfather’s body. His breath quickened as he clutched at the loose skin, the soft flesh of his arms, the unfamiliar weight pressing down on him. He had felt strong his entire life, but now? Now he felt heavy, sluggish, weak.

They stepped closer, eyes locked, studying what they had lost and gained.

Ryan’s wrinkled hand trembled as he reached out, pressing against Walter’s hard abs, then his solid pecs. He squeezed—firm, powerful, his pecs. His fingers drifted up, brushing through thick, luscious hair—his hair. A shudder ran through him as he traced his strong jawline, the smooth skin.

Then, he hesitated, looking at his own body. Slowly, he raised a shaking hand to his bald scalp. His breath hitched at the thin, wiry strands left behind. His grip moved to his soft chest, squeezing—nothing but sagging weight.

Walter finally reached out, gripping Ryan’s weak arm, squeezing the loose, aging flesh. His fingers pressed into Ryan’s soft pecs—his old manboobs—and he barely hid his disgust. He lingered only for a moment before stepping back, rolling his strong shoulders.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Both turned as a nurse stepped in. “Oh, good. You’re both awake. The doctors will be in shortly to see you.”

“This can’t be real.” He turned toward Walter, who stood there in Ryan’s youthful body, an almost dazed expression on his face. “ Tell them,” Ryan pleaded, his voice rising. “Tell them we’re not who they think we are!” Walter, shaken but more composed, nodded grimly. 

When the doctors finally arrived, their expressions neutral but professional, Ryan wasted no time. 

“We—we’ve switched,” he blurted, gripping the sheets of his hospital bed with his trembling hands. “That’s not my grandfather. 

That’s me in his body. And—and I’m in his.” His voice cracked, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Walter, in Ryan’s body, took a step forward. “It’s true,” he said. “I woke up in his body, and he woke up in mine. Something went wrong.” 

The doctors exchanged puzzled glances before one of them cleared his throat. “Mr. Holloway, you’re disoriented from the accident,” he started, but Ryan cut him off. 

“I know who I am!” he snapped, the exertion making his new body’s chest heave. 

“I don’t care what my name says on your charts. That’s my body standing right there.” He pointed a trembling finger at Walter. 

The medical team looked between them, skepticism etched onto their faces—until another doctor, flipping through a tablet, suddenly paled. He exhaled sharply. 

“My God,” he muttered, drawing the attention of his colleagues. Looking up, he hesitated before speaking. 

“We… we may have made a terrible mistake.” 

The air in the room thickened as he explained, voice cautious yet urgent. 

“During surgery, we relied on multiple factors to identify the bodies—facial structure, ID tags, personal effects. But their faces were swollen beyond recognition, and their medical files were mislabeled in the chaos. Their coats had been switched, leading to further confusion. We assumed the brain found closest to each body was the correct one.” He paused, gripping the tablet tighter. 

“But that assumption… was wrong.” Another doctor, looking equally unsettled, pulled up the brain scans. “We should’ve known,” she admitted, her voice tight with regret. 

“Walter’s brain, despite its age, exhibited an accelerated healing response, which is why it looked younger in the initial scans. Meanwhile, Ryan’s brain suffered significant trauma, causing inflammation and deterioration, making it appear older than it really was. 

We mistook those neurological differences for evidence of their respective ages and—” she hesitated, exhaling slowly, “—we placed the wrong brains in the wrong bodies.” 

The words hit like a sledgehammer. Ryan’s knees buckled, and he barely caught himself against the bed. 

“Fix it,” he gasped. “Switch us back.” The doctors exchanged grim looks before one of them finally spoke.

 “We can’t.” 

Walter and Ryan froze. The doctor continued, his voice heavy with finality. 

“The reconnection process was incredibly delicate. Your neural pathways have already begun adapting to their new hosts. Any attempt to reverse the procedure would result in severe, irreversible brain damage—possibly death.” He swallowed. 

“There’s no way to undo this.” Another doctor stepped forward, regret plain on her face. “We are deeply sorry,” she said, “but the swap is permanent.” 

The words sent a wave of cold dread through Ryan. His breath came in short gasps as reality crashed over him. He was trapped. This body—this slow, aching, unfamiliar form—was his for the rest of his life. Forever.

Ryan’s body sagged. Walter, too, felt the weight of those words, though the sting was dulled by the strange exhilaration running through him. Permanent. He would never go back. Walter realized that he would never feel that old body again. His mind warred between horror and an undeniable thrill.

The doctors exchanged uneasy glances before speaking again. “For now, we strongly advise keeping this a secret.”

Ryan’s head snapped up. “What?”

“If this gets out,” the doctor continued, “it could lead to medical lawsuits, ethical scandals, media chaos. The hospital would be ruined. Your lives would be turned upside down.” He glanced between them, his voice firm. “It’s best if you assume each other’s lives.”

Walter’s lips parted in shock. Ryan looked utterly stricken.

“As far as the world is concerned,” the doctor said, “you are Ryan Holloway.” He turned to Walter. “And you are Walter Holloway.” His gaze was unyielding. “That is how the hospital will refer to you, and that is how your families will know you.”

Ryan was visibly horrified. His whole life—his identity—had been stripped away in an instant. But Walter… Walter could feel the seed of something dangerous, something exhilarating taking root within him. He had been old, tired, and at the end of his road. But now? Now, he had everything ahead of him again.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Walter James Holloway felt truly alive.

The Initial Adjustment 

To help them adjust, they were referred to psychiatry. The psychologist assigned to their case, Dr. Evelyn Carter, was a woman of firm composure and measured words. She wasted no time in establishing the gravity of their situation. "For your mental and emotional well-being," she explained during their first session, "you must fully integrate into your new identities. There can be no doubt, no hesitation. From now on, Walter James Holloway is Ryan David Holloway. And Ryan David Holloway is Walter James Holloway."

Ryan sat stiffly in his chair, hands clenched into fists. His body, now weighed down by age, ached with every movement, and he felt suffocated by the reality that this was now his existence. Across from him, Walter sat in Ryan’s youthful body, leaning back with a relaxed ease that only made Ryan's fury burn hotter. "This is ridiculous," Ryan muttered. "You're asking me to pretend to be someone I’m not."

Dr. Carter’s gaze was steady. "I'm asking you to survive. If you refuse to accept this, your mind will reject your new body, leading to severe dissociation, depression, and possibly worse. The human psyche craves consistency. You must become Walter in every way possible. And you—" she turned to Walter, "—must embrace being Ryan."

Walter gave a slow nod, as if considering her words, but Ryan saw the glimmer of something else in his expression—excitement. He already knew Walter was relishing this, the chance to start over in a body full of strength and vitality. Ryan wanted to scream.

Dr. Carter, however, had no patience for resistance. She was relentless, her approach clinical and unforgiving. "You will commit to this," she said with an icy firmness. "Every hesitation, every denial, every refusal to accept your new identity will only make this harder. You are Walter. Period. If you cannot embrace that, you will never be able to function in the life that is now yours." She leaned forward, her piercing gaze locking onto Ryan’s weary eyes. "From this moment on, you will respond to ‘Walter.’ You will introduce yourself as Walter. If you hesitate, if you falter, we will start again until you get it right."

Ryan seethed with frustration, but there was no room for argument. Every day, Dr. Carter drilled it into him. Morning sessions were brutal. "Say it again," she ordered. Ryan’s voice was hoarse from repetition.

"I am Walter James Holloway. I am sixty-five years old."

"Louder."

Ryan swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I am Walter James Holloway," he repeated, each word tasting like poison.

"Again."

Meanwhile, Walter, in his youthful, powerful form, flourished under the same treatment. He practically beamed as he repeated his lines, sitting up straighter with every declaration. "I am Ryan David Holloway. I am twenty-six years old. I am young, strong, and full of life." His voice carried confidence—more than Ryan ever had.

Dr. Carter only reinforced this divide, encouraging Walter’s transition into Ryan’s life while pushing Ryan further into his new role. She arranged daily conversations where Ryan had to describe "his" past experiences as Walter—his first car, the long hours in the repair shop, his favorite cigar brand. "Make it real," she insisted when he hesitated. "Believe it. Because no one else will believe you if you don’t."

Dr. Carter took the exercises a step further, introducing direct role-play into their sessions. One morning, she placed two chairs in the middle of the room and gestured for them to sit. "We’re going to reinforce your identities with introductions," she announced. "Walter, introduce your grandson."

Ryan tensed. His throat tightened as he glanced at Walter, who sat across from him with an infuriatingly relaxed grin. Dr. Carter’s expectant gaze left him no choice. He swallowed hard. "This is my grandson, Ryan," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Louder. More confidence."

Ryan clenched his fists, forcing the words out again. "This is my grandson, Ryan David Holloway." The statement felt wrong, like a betrayal of everything he was.

Walter, meanwhile, sat up straight, puffing out his chest. "And this is my grandpa, Walter James Holloway," he said with a smug ease, gesturing toward Ryan. He even threw in a playful pat on Ryan’s knee. "He’s had a long life, worked hard as a mechanic, and now he’s enjoying retirement."

Ryan’s jaw clenched as he heard the words. Retirement. It was another nail in the coffin.

Dr. Carter nodded approvingly before moving to the next phase. She held up a photo of Ryan’s old body, shirtless at the gym, muscles defined and glistening with sweat. "Who is this?"

Walter smirked. "That’s me," he said proudly. "Ryan Holloway. I work out regularly, and I take pride in my physique." He flexed his arm slightly, as if to emphasize the truth of his statement.

Ryan wanted to throw the chair. Instead, he forced himself to mumble, "That’s my grandson."

Dr. Carter didn’t let him off easy. "Say it properly."

Ryan inhaled sharply through his nose. "That’s my grandson, Ryan David Holloway. He’s twenty-six years old, works as a physical therapist, and is in excellent shape."

Walter chuckled under his breath. "Thanks, Grandpa. Appreciate that."

Dr. Carter then held up another photo, this one of old Walter—his overweight, aging frame sitting on a lounge chair near the pool. "And who is this?"

Ryan felt sick. "That’s... me."

"Full sentence," Dr. Carter pressed.

"That’s me. I’m Walter James Holloway. I’m sixty-five years old, and I used to be a mechanic." The words made his stomach turn, but Dr. Carter simply nodded in approval.

Walter leaned back with a grin. "Yeah, that’s my grandpa," he said casually, glancing at the image. "He’s been through a lot, but he’s still kicking." He turned to Ryan with a smirk. "Ain’t that right, old man?"

Ryan ground his teeth. He didn’t respond.

The exercises continued—more questions designed to hammer their new identities into place. Dr. Carter would ask who was older, who was younger. Who was strong, who was weaker.

"Ryan, stand up and describe your daily fitness routine," she instructed.

Walter eagerly complied, launching into an enthusiastic monologue about "his" morning runs, weightlifting, and strict nutrition. He flexed his arms playfully, smirking at Ryan as if reveling in his newfound youth.

Then she turned to Ryan. "Walter, describe your typical day before the accident."

Ryan was forced to mutter about oil changes, cigar breaks, and back pain. Each time he faltered, Dr. Carter would correct him, forcing him to repeat the statement until it sounded natural. Each time, Walter grinned, enjoying every second of his new role. And every time Ryan looked in the mirror, the reality became harder to deny.

Dr. Carter intensified their conditioning by incorporating physical and sensory exercises. She had them touch and feel their bodies, comparing them to what they remembered before the accident.

"Ryan, describe how your skin feels. The texture, the muscle tone, everything."

Walter ran his hands along his arms, his biceps firm and strong. "My skin is smooth, my muscles are defined. I feel powerful, full of energy. It’s like I have endless stamina."

She turned to Ryan. "And you, Walter?"

Ryan hesitated before placing a hand on his stomach, feeling the softer flesh, the wrinkles on his hands. "My skin is looser, my muscles are weaker. My joints ache. My fingers feel stiff. I’m..." He swallowed hard. "I’m older."

Dr. Carter nodded approvingly. "Good. Acknowledging these changes will help your mind accept them. Now, let’s work on movement."

She made them practice mannerisms. Ryan had to learn the slower, heavier gait of an aging man, the slight stoop, the way old Walter used to rub his lower back absentmindedly. Walter, meanwhile, had to master a youthful stride, the way Ryan used to bounce on the balls of his feet when excited, the casual confidence of a younger man.

Walter took to it with ease, exaggerating Ryan’s old habits at first but gradually settling into a natural flow. He walked with effortless energy, stretched his shoulders confidently, and even practiced grinning at his reflection the way Ryan used to. He was absorbing the role with glee, while Ryan struggled to let go of his former self.

Dr. Carter was relentless. "Again. Walter, you should be moving slower. You’ve had a long life, and your body has the weight of years. Show it."

Ryan sighed, shifting his posture to mimic an elderly man’s careful movements. "Like this?"

"Better. But I want it to be second nature. We’ll keep practicing."

Then came the hypnosis.

Dr. Carter dimmed the lights, her voice a steady, rhythmic pulse in the dimly lit room. "Close your eyes. Take slow, deep breaths. With every exhale, let go of who you were. With every inhale, become who you are meant to be."

The air grew thick with the weight of suggestion, their minds sinking deeper with every word. "You are stepping into a grand hall," Dr. Carter murmured, "a palace of memory, a mind palace where truth is revealed. Look around you. This place is yours. It has always been yours. Walk through its corridors, see the reflections of your life."

Ryan and Walter found themselves standing within the endless mirrored halls, their surroundings shifting like a dream. The polished floors reflected them perfectly, stretching endlessly into the distance. But something was wrong. The reflections weren’t right.

Ryan peered into the glass, and his heart pounded. His old body—his real body—stared back at him. The strong jawline, the youthful vigor, the sharp, defiant eyes. But as he watched, the image flickered, warping ever so slightly.

Dr. Carter’s voice was patient, inescapable. "You were always Walter, weren’t you?" she said, her tone like silk wrapping around his thoughts. "From the moment you were born, you were Walter James Holloway. You grew up fixing cars. You built a life, had a grandson. And that grandson... is Ryan David Holloway."

The new Walter shook his head, but his reflection wavered. The skin grew looser, lines forming where there had been none. His shoulders slumped, the once-defined muscles softening, weakening. His hands, resting at his sides, twitched as the veins became more pronounced, the skin weathered. He could feel it—the slow, inevitable transformation sinking into him, reshaping his very sense of self.

Dr. Carter then turned her attention to the new Ryan. "And you, Ryan. You are young, full of energy, full of potential. You’ve always been Ryan, always twenty-six. You were born into strength and health. That old life you remember? That was someone else’s story. Look at yourself. Accept what you see."

Walter stepped toward his reflection with a reverent gaze. He had expected to see his old, worn face. Instead, Ryan’s youthful form stared back at him, powerful and whole. His chest tightened with something dangerously close to relief.

The new Walter’s breath came in ragged gasps as the transformation continued. His reflection—the one that had been his true self—was fading. The gray hair took root. The skin sagged, wrinkles deepened. His back hunched slightly. The young man he had been was disappearing before his eyes, swallowed by the reality being woven around him.

The new Ryan, standing beside him, beamed at his own reflection. His body—no, Ryan’s body—stood tall and strong, exuding the confidence of youth. He touched his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, running a hand through thick, dark hair. "This is right," he said, the words coming naturally now. "This is how it has always been."

Dr. Carter’s voice wrapped around them both, sealing their fates. "There was no surgery mishap. There was no switch. Walter was, is, and always will be Walter. Ryan was, is, and always will be Ryan. It was meant to be this way. It has always been this way."

The old Ryan tried to speak, to protest, but the words dissolved before they reached his lips. His mind felt like sand slipping through his fingers. The past was distant, blurred, uncertain. And the mirror before him—the mirror that had once reflected the truth—now showed only the inescapable reality. He was Walter. He had always been Walter.

The old Walter, now fully embracing his new existence, straightened, stretching his arms as if testing the strength that belonged to him now. "That felt... good," he admitted, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Ryan blinked groggily, his head aching. He turned toward the mirror one last time, desperate to see something—anything—of his old self. But the face staring back at him was unfamiliar. Not just in appearance, but in identity.

Dr. Carter smiled. "Good. We’ll continue this tomorrow. We’re making progress."

Outside of sessions, Walter made it worse. He had fully embraced his role as the younger man and took every opportunity to taunt Ryan for his struggles. "C’mon, Grandpa," he’d say with a smirk when Ryan groaned as he lowered himself into a chair. "Takes a while to get used to the ol’ joints, huh?"

Ryan gritted his teeth, refusing to acknowledge him. But Walter didn’t stop. He took pleasure in watching Ryan fumble with his new limitations, chuckling when Ryan dropped something and struggled to bend down and pick it up. "Want me to get that for you?" he’d ask mockingly, flexing his arms for emphasis.

At mealtimes, Walter would take exaggerated bites of his food, sighing in delight. "Damn, this metabolism is something else," he’d say, patting his flat stomach. "I could eat a whole pizza and not feel a thing." He’d then glance at Ryan, whose plate was filled with doctor-recommended portions for an elderly man. "Better watch your sodium, though. Gotta be careful at your age."

The more Walter thrived, the more Ryan suffered. And worst of all, no one cared. No one believed he was suffering at all.

Beyond the psychological conditioning, they were also referred to rehabilitation medicine to help them adjust physically. Ryan despised it. Every exercise session was a brutal reminder of how weak and sluggish his body had become. He struggled with basic movements, his joints stiff, his muscles sore from even the lightest exertion. He used to love pushing his limits in the gym, but now? Now, simply standing from a chair felt like an ordeal. Worse, the cravings gnawed at him—a deep, incessant yearning for nicotine. Walter’s old habits had latched onto him like a vice. He found himself gritting his teeth, fingers twitching for a cigar he didn’t even want.

Walter, on the other hand, was thriving. He attacked every workout with an eagerness that left Ryan seething. He ran, he lifted, he moved with a joy that Ryan had once taken for granted. The burn of his muscles, the soreness after an intense session—Walter embraced it all. He reveled in the sensation of sweat rolling down his back, the musk of his own body after pushing it to the limit. He even took deep breaths after each session, enjoying the raw, earthy scent of exertion. "Damn, I missed this," he murmured more than once, flexing his arms in the mirror, watching the way his muscles tensed and released with effortless precision.

The divide between them grew wider with each passing day. The more Walter embraced his new identity, the more Ryan felt like he was fading away. And no matter how hard he tried to fight it, the reality was settling in: he was no longer Ryan David Holloway. He was Walter. And there was no way out.

The Request

One evening, Ryan sat on the edge of his hospital bed, his wrinkled hands gripping the stiff sheets, his body still aching from the trauma of the accident. The dim hospital lighting cast long shadows across the room, making it feel colder than it was. The door creaked open, and in stepped the new Ryan—his former body—tall, strong, and exuding a presence that made Ryan’s stomach twist. Walter, now a young man, moved with an effortless confidence that Ryan never had, his every step controlled and precise. He grinned, shutting the door behind him with an air of authority.

"Hey, Grandpa," Walter said smoothly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The way he said it—casual, natural—sent a spike of anger through Ryan’s chest.

Ryan clenched his jaw, refusing to respond right away. He had been waiting for this moment, wondering if Walter would slip up—if he would acknowledge the truth, even just for a second. "Grandpa," Ryan said pointedly, his voice rough and unfamiliar to his own ears. "You know who I really am."

Walter smirked, pushing himself off the wall and strolling closer. "I do," he said, his voice teasing. "You're my grandpa, Walter Holloway." He reached out and patted Ryan's knee in a patronizing gesture. "And I’m your grandson, Ryan. Took me a bit, but I think I’m finally getting used to it."

Ryan’s hands curled into fists. "Stop it," he hissed. "You know that’s not true." His chest tightened as he searched Walter’s face for any sign of recognition, of doubt, of something—anything—that would prove he wasn’t alone in this nightmare. But there was nothing. Only that infuriating grin.

Walter pulled up a chair, sitting across from him, his posture relaxed, completely at ease in his new body. "Why fight it, Grandpa?" he said with exaggerated patience. "You heard Dr. Carter. We have to accept who we are now.”

Ryan swallowed hard, his throat dry as he stared at the man before him—his body, his youth, his entire life, now inhabited by someone else. The weight of his wrinkled hands resting on his lap only deepened the ache in his chest. He needed something—anything—to hold on to. A compromise. A semblance of his old identity.

"Grandpa," Ryan started, his voice low, hesitant. "What if… just when it’s just us… we still call each other by our real names? I don’t mean in front of the doctors or anyone else, just… in private." His tired eyes searched Ryan’s old handsome face, hoping—begging—for some kind of understanding. "I just—I need something to hold on to. Something real."

Walter tilted his head, considering the plea for a moment. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk. "Nah," he said simply.

Ryan stiffened. "What?"

Walter chuckled, stepping closer, his movements loose, confident, utterly at home in the body that should have been Ryan’s. "No can do, Grandpa. See, that’s the problem—you keep looking back, clinging to something that isn’t yours anymore." He placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, squeezing just enough to make him feel the difference in their strength now. "You heard Dr. Carter. That part of your life is gone. And the sooner you accept it, the easier this will be for you."

Ryan's nails dug into his palms. "I am Ryan," he gritted out.

Walter gave a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Still not getting it, huh? Alright then, let me help you."

With that, he reached down and grabbed the hem of his hospital gown, pulling it up and over his head in one smooth motion. The hospital’s dim lighting cast shadows over his defined abs, his broad chest—the physique Ryan had worked years to maintain, now standing tall before him, stolen. Walter flexed his arms slightly, rolling his shoulders as if savoring the feeling of being young and powerful.

Ryan could only stare, his breath shallow, his insides twisting.

Walter smirked. "Take a good look, Grandpa," he said, running a hand over his chest before giving his bicep a slow, deliberate flex. "This is my body now. Not yours. Not ever again. You see, it doesn’t matter what you remember. What matters is what’s real. And this—" he gestured down at himself, at the sculpted muscles, the youthful skin, "—this is real. You? You’re just an old man now. An old man who needs to stop pretending."

Ryan felt something inside him crack.

Walter grabbed his shirt from where he had tossed it onto the bed but didn’t put it back on. Instead, he took a step closer, towering over Ryan. "You wanted a moment of honesty between us? Fine. Here’s some honesty: It’s over. There’s no going back. This body belongs to me now, and the sooner you let it go, the easier this will be." He patted Ryan’s knee mockingly. "So go ahead, Grandpa. Say goodbye. Otherwise, I’ll make you."

Ryan's vision blurred, his breath shuddering in his chest. Even his own grandfather or rather… grandson—even Walter—refused to give him a sliver of acknowledgment.

Walter stood in front of the full-length mirror, his—no, Ryan’s—body glistening under the soft light of the room. He ran his hands over his chest, feeling the firm ridges of muscles that now belonged to him. His reflection stared back, young, strong, vibrant. It was perfection.

He turned to Ryan, who was slumped in a chair, his shoulders hunched, looking every bit the frail old man he now was. Walter smirked, the corners of his lips curling upward in a cruel, knowing way.

"Strip," Walter commanded, his voice low and firm, leaving no room for argument.

Ryan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What? Why would I—"

"Because I said so," Walter interrupted, his tone sharp. He took a step closer, his towering frame looming over Ryan. "You need to face reality, old man. Our reality. So strip. Now."

Ryan hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, revealing the sagging, wrinkled skin of Walter’s old body. His stomach hung slightly, the muscles long gone, replaced by softness that spoke of years of neglect.

Walter’s eyes raked over him, his expression a mix of amusement and disdain. "Good," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Now the pants."

Ryan’s face flushed with humiliation, but he obeyed, awkwardly shimmying out of his pants until he was naked and exposed. His body was a stark contrast to Walter’s—young, powerful, arrogant.

Walter stepped back, his eyes never leaving Ryan as he began to strip as well. His movements were deliberate, almost theatrical, as he peeled off his shirt, revealing the chiseled chest and abs that Ryan had spent years building. He kicked off his pants, standing tall and confident, his body on full display.

"Look at us," Walter said, spreading his arms wide as if to emphasize the difference. "Isn’t it perfect?"

Ryan couldn’t look away, his eyes darting between Walter’s body and his own. His shame was palpable, but there was something else there too—something darker, more primal. A flicker of arousal that he desperately tried to suppress.

Walter noticed, of course. His smirk widened, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You like what you see, don’t you, Grandpa?"

Ryan’s breath hitched, his face turning a deep shade of red. "I—I don’t—"

"Don’t lie to me," Walter interrupted, his tone sharp. "I can see it in your eyes. You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?"

Ryan’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His heart was pounding, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t control.

Walter laughed, a low, dark chuckle that sent shivers down Ryan’s spine. "Admit it," he demanded, his voice firm. "Tell me who’s the grandpa and who’s the grandson now."

Ryan’s jaw tightened, his pride warring with the humiliation coursing through him. "You’re the grandson," he finally muttered, the words barely audible.

"Louder," Walter commanded, his eyes blazing with intensity.

"You’re the grandson," Ryan repeated, his voice trembling. "And I… I’m the grandpa."

Walter’s grin was triumphant, his chest swelling with satisfaction. "That’s right," he said, his tone dripping with superiority. "And this?" He gestured to his body, running a hand over his chest. "This is mine now. Every muscle, every inch of skin. Mine."

Walter stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he loomed over the frail, wrinkled man in front of him. "You’ve always been so jealous of me, haven’t you?" he taunted, his voice slow, deliberate, dripping with cruel amusement. "Even before all this, you wanted what I had. And now…" He trailed off, his hand reaching out with an almost mockingly gentle touch, his fingers brushing over Ryan’s soft, sagging chest, feeling the loose skin beneath his fingertips. "Now you’re stuck with this."

Ryan—no, the new Walter—flinched at the contact, his hands clenching uselessly in his lap, but he didn’t pull away. Ryan—the old Walter—chuckled darkly as he crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side as he took in the pitiful sight before him. The old man sat hunched and small, shoulders curled inward, looking up at him with a mixture of resentment, disbelief, and—most satisfying of all—helplessness.

"You know," Ryan mused, tapping his chin as if lost in thought, "I bet you’ve always been jealous of me."

Walter’s head snapped up, his aged face twisting in defiance. "What?" Ryan grinned, white teeth flashing against his youthful skin. "Come on, Grandpa. Don’t play dumb. You wanted this, didn’t you? My body, my strength, my youth." He spread his arms wide, stretching deliberately, rolling his shoulders to feel the strength coursing through his muscles. "Hell, you practically drooled every time I was at the gym. Always making comments—‘Damn, kid, you don’t know how lucky you are.’ Or, ‘If I had your body, I’d—’ Well, now you know. And let’s be honest, you weren’t just admiring it from a distance. You were longing for it, weren’t you? Watching me move, watching me live—all while being trapped in that pathetic old shell of yours."

He took a step closer, deliberately slow, letting his towering presence loom over Walter’s frail form. "I mean, look at me." He turned slightly, giving a mock flex, the defined muscles in his arms and chest shifting beneath his smooth, youthful skin. "Imagine how it must feel—to wake up every morning strong, invincible, without a single ache or pain. To have all the energy in the world, to be the one everyone listens to when you speak, to be the one people want to be around. That was me before, and now? Now, it’s still me. But you?" His smirk deepened as he tilted his head. "You're nothing more than an afterthought now. Just another old man waiting for the world to move on without him."

Walter’s face darkened, his lips twitching as if he wanted to speak, to lash out, but nothing came. The words—the truth—hung in the air between them, undeniable and crushing. Ryan leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Hurts, doesn’t it? Knowing you’re beneath me now. Knowing I own the life that used to be yours. Knowing that, from now on, no one will ever look at you the way they used to look at me."

Walter’s face burned, his wrinkled hands twisting in the sheets beneath him. "That’s not—"

"Oh, don’t even try to deny it." Ryan cut him off, stepping closer, his voice thick with condescension. "You wished for this. I could see it in your eyes every time you groaned about your back, every time you huffed and puffed after going up the stairs. You wanted to be young again. To be me. And now, look at you." He let out a short, amused chuckle, shaking his head. "Karma’s funny, huh?"

Walter’s mouth opened, but no words came out. The heat in his face spread down his neck, shame curling around him like a vice. Ryan smirked, placing his hands on his hips, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. "Tell me, Grandpa, if you were in my shoes—if you swapped bodies with your grandson—wouldn’t you love it?" He let the question hang in the air, savoring the tension, his smirk widening as Walter stiffened, his breath catching in his throat.

"I mean, come on. Think about it. Really think about it. You know exactly what I’m talking about now, don’t you? Now that you’re the old man, you get it." Ryan took a slow step forward, his presence looming, his voice like velvet laced with poison. "Be honest with me, Grandpa. Wouldn’t you have enjoyed waking up one day in a body like this? No more aching knees, no more graying hair, no more struggling to even be noticed in a crowd. You spent years watching me, admiring me—hell, envying me. And now you know what it’s like to be on the other side of it. Doesn’t feel so great, does it?"

Walter looked away sharply, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy with frustration, but Ryan wasn’t finished. "Tell me, does it burn you up inside when you see me walking around, feeling amazing in this body? Do you hate it when I stretch, when I flex, when I live like I was meant for this?" He chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down just enough to meet Walter’s weary eyes. "Or worse—do you crave it? Do you secretly wish you could trade back, knowing damn well you never will? Do you miss your body? Or are you finally realizing that it was never yours to begin with?"

Walter looked away, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy with frustration.

Ryan leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Feels different when you're the one stuck in the rocking chair, huh? When you're the one struggling just to get up in the morning?" He let out a breath, deliberately warm against Walter’s ear, before straightening back up.

Walter swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the sagging skin of his throat. His entire body tensed like a coiled spring, but there was nowhere to go, no escape from the torment.

Ryan sighed dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. "Look, I get it. You’re jealous. And that’s okay. It’s natural. Anyone in your position would be jealous of me." He flexed his arm, rolling his shoulders as if relishing the movement, his eyes flickering toward Walter expectantly. And just as he predicted, Walter’s gaze betrayed him—darting, just for a moment, toward the strong biceps, the smooth skin, the sheer power that had once belonged to him.

Ryan caught it instantly and let out a low, knowing chuckle. "Yeah, I saw that. You can’t help it, can you?" He stepped closer, tilting his head as he studied the old man before him. "I mean, look at me. I’m young. Strong. Alive." His voice softened, turning almost patronizing. "And you? Well… you’re just Walter now."

Walter squeezed his eyes shut, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to accept it.Ryan let the words settle before placing a firm, almost comforting hand on Walter’s frail shoulder. "But here’s the thing—you need to accept it. This is our reality now. There’s no going back. No second chances. This—" he gestured between them, "—is permanent. I’m Ryan. And you’re Walter. For good."

The Family Visit 

Eventually, the day of the family visit arrived, and Walter could feel his stomach twisting with unease. He sat stiffly in the hospital chair, his aged body aching from even the smallest movement. Across from him, Ryan stretched his youthful limbs with ease, barely able to contain his excitement. The roles they had been forced into were about to be cemented, and Walter dreaded every second of it.

When the door swung open, Daniel Holloway entered first—The old Ryan’s dad, and now Walter’s son. Though now Daniel had to see the old Ryan as his father, Walter. Behind him was Margaret, Daniel’s wife and Ryan’s mother. Then came Charles and Peter, Ryan’s younger brothers—though now, they were supposed to be his other grandsons. The sight of them was both familiar and alien, each face filled with relief and happiness.

"Dad!" Daniel greeted warmly, smiling at Walter with all the familiarity of a son addressing his father. Walter swallowed hard, his hands clenching against the hospital sheets. That greeting was meant for what used to be his grandfather—but not anymore. It was for him now.

"Grandpa!" Peter grinned, moving to Walter’s bedside. "It’s great to see you up. You gave us a real scare."

Walter flinched at the word. Grandpa. No, no, no. This wasn’t right. Daniel, his own father, was now looking at him as if HE were his father. It was suffocating.

Meanwhile, Ryan stood with an excited grin, spreading his arms wide. “Dad, Mom, Charles, Peter! Man, you have no idea how good it is to see you all.”

Margaret let out a relieved sigh and pulled Ryan into a tight embrace. “Oh, sweetheart, we were terrified,” she murmured. “I can’t believe you’re okay.”

Ryan leaned into her touch, relishing every second. “Of course I am, Mom. Strong as ever.” He flexed his arm playfully, making Charles and Peter chuckle.

Ryan basked in the attention, his new face lighting up as he embraced his mother—his former daughter-in-law —and patted his father—his former son—on the back. It was exhilarating. Thrilling. They truly believed he had always been their Ryan. They spoke to him as if he had always been their son, their brother. Every word of affection, every familial gesture, sent a pulse of euphoria through him. It was as if fate had always intended for him to be in this body.

Walter’s chest tightened as he watched his former body bask in the warmth of his family’s love. That was his mother embracing him. His brothers laughing with him. But now, they saw him as the grandfather—an old man, a relic of their past.

Walter also felt the crushing weight of despair. Even his own parents—who he was supposed to treat now as his own kids, looking at him with concern—saw him only as their dad, Walter. There was no recognition, no flicker of realization that something was horribly wrong.

Daniel turned back to Walter and placed a hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling, Dad?”

His breathing grew unsteady. He had to fix this. "Dad, listen to me," Walter rasped, voice shaking. "I’m not—I’m not your dad. It’s me, Ryan! That’s my body! He—he stole it! You have to believe me!"

A tense silence filled the room. The smiles faded. Ryan, standing beside their mother, let out an exasperated sigh and turned toward the nurses. "I told you this might happen. His memory’s been slipping ever since the accident."

“Oh, Grandpa, not this again.” He turned to the others with an exaggerated sigh. “The doctors said he’s been having these memory lapses. He keeps insisting he’s me.”

One of the nurses nodded sympathetically. "It’s common with head trauma at his age. Sometimes, patients get confused about who they are."

Margaret’s expression softened with concern. “Oh, Walter…” She kneeled beside him, taking his wrinkled hands into her own. “The doctors did say there might be confusion after everything you went through. But don’t worry, we’re here for you.”

Walter’s face burned. "No Mom! I’m not confused! I swear to you, I’m Ryan! That’s my body! That’s my life!"

Walter’s pulse pounded in his ears. “No! I’m telling you the truth! I’m your son, Ryan! That is my body!” He pointed a trembling finger at Ryan, who merely shook his head with amusement.

His desperation escalated, his voice cracking as he tried to force them to see the truth. But all they saw was an old man having a breakdown. Daniel frowned, concern deepening in his eyes. "Dad, please, calm down. You’re scaring the boys."

Daniel sighed and squeezed Walter’s shoulder. “Dad, please. I know this must be overwhelming, but you’re Walter Holloway. You’ve always been my father.”

Ryan leaned against the bed, arms crossed, his smirk growing wider. “Come on, Grandpa, you don’t want to confuse the kids, do you?” He turned to Charles and Peter, feigning sympathy. “It’s hard watching Grandpa struggle like this, huh?”

Charles gave an awkward smile. “Yeah… but the doctors said he just needs time, right?”

Walter’s hands trembled as he looked from face to face. No one believed him. Not his dad, not his mom, not his brothers. The truth was slipping through his fingers like sand, and Ryan was enjoying every second of it.

Ryan stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Walter’s shoulder, leaning in slightly, his voice gentle but condescending. "Grandpa, you need to rest. You’re just confused. I know it’s hard, but you have to accept the truth."

Walter shook his head furiously. "You did this! You stole my life! You—"

Ryan clicked his tongue and turned to the others. "See what I mean? It’s like he’s stuck in some fantasy. I read about this—sometimes older folks cling to a delusion because reality is too much for them."

Walter gritted his teeth, shaking with humiliation. His own family. His own flesh and blood. They all thought he was a senile old man losing his grip on reality.

Ryan turned back, eyes gleaming with something cruel and victorious. "You’re not Ryan, Grandpa. I am. You’re Walter. Always have been. Always will be. And there’s no changing that."

Walter slumped back against the bed, defeated. His world had been stolen, and no one—not even his own family—would ever believe him.

Ryan took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough for only Walter to hear. “Face it, old man,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “This is your life now. You’re Grandpa. And I’m Ryan.” He patted Walter’s frail knee, just as he had been forced to do in their therapy sessions. “Better get used to it.”

Walter’s vision blurred with frustration and helplessness. Ryan had won. He had taken everything. And there was nothing Walter could do to stop it.

The Final Adjustment

Dr. Carter wasted no time intensifying their therapy sessions after the disastrous family visit. Walter’s outburst had only reinforced the doctor’s belief that he was suffering from a severe delusional episode, and Ryan made sure to milk every second of it.

At the start of their next session, Dr. Carter sat across from them with a patient but firm expression. “Walter, before we continue, I think there’s something you need to say to Ryan.”

Walter tensed, already dreading whatever was about to come next. “What do you mean?”

Dr. Carter tilted his head, as if speaking to a confused child. “You accused Ryan of something very serious in front of your family. You caused a scene, frightened your grandchildren, and distressed your son. Don’t you think you owe Ryan an apology?”

Walter’s stomach turned. His hands clenched against his thighs as he cast a hesitant glance at Ryan, who was lounging in his chair, arms crossed, a smug little smile playing on his lips.

Walter wanted to resist. He wanted to scream the truth again. But what good would it do? No one believed him. No one ever would. And the only way to stop the relentless humiliation was to play along.

“I…” Walter forced the words out, his throat dry. “I’m sorry, Ryan.”

Ryan’s grin widened. “Sorry for what, Grandpa?”

Walter swallowed back his pride. “For accusing you… of stealing my body.”

Ryan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “And why do you think you did that, huh?”

Dr. Carter nodded encouragingly. “Yes, Walter. Let’s explore that. What made you feel like Ryan had taken something from you?”

Walter’s jaw clenched. His pulse pounded in his temples. Ryan’s eyes were gleaming, waiting for him to break.

“I guess…” Walter exhaled shakily. “I was jealous.”

Ryan clicked his tongue. “Jealous?”

Walter stared at the floor. “Yes.”

“Jealous of what?” Ryan pressed.

Walter’s shoulders sagged. “Of… your body.”

Ryan let out a small, satisfied laugh. “Oh yeah?”

Walter shut his eyes tightly, willing himself to disappear. “Yeah.”

Ryan leaned back, tapping his fingers against his knee. “And what else? You jealous of my muscles? My youth? The fact that I get to live as Ryan while you’re just old man Walter?”

Walter felt the weight of every word pressing down on him. He forced himself to nod. “Yes.”

“Say it,” Ryan ordered. “Tell me what exactly you’re jealous of.”

Walter’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Your strength. Your body. Your youth.”

Ryan wasn’t done yet. He leaned in closer, his voice smooth, almost gentle, but dripping with cruel amusement. “Come on, old man. You jealous of the way I wake up every morning, full of energy, no aching joints, no stiff back? The way I can run without gasping for breath, the way I can eat anything I want without worrying about cholesterol or heartburn?” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Bet you miss that, huh?”

Walter clenched his fists in his lap, his nails digging into his palms. His breathing was shallow, his chest tight.

Ryan tilted his head, studying him like a predator toying with wounded prey. “Or maybe you’re jealous of how people see me. No one looks at me with pity. No one treats me like some fragile old man who’s past his prime. No one assumes I need help just getting out of a chair.” His smirk widened. “That must suck, huh? Going from being strong, being respected, to being… this.”

Walter bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to keep quiet, but the words pressed against his lips like poison waiting to spill.

Ryan wasn’t finished. “How about the way people talk to me? The way they listen when I speak, when I walk into a room, when I shake someone’s hand?” He flexed his fingers, letting the movement draw Walter’s gaze. “Bet you miss that, huh? Bet you hate looking in the mirror and seeing Walter Holloway staring back at you. The sagging skin, the graying hair, the belly that won’t go away no matter what you do.” He let out a fake sympathetic sigh. “Damn, that’s gotta sting.”

Walter swallowed thickly, his throat raw. He wanted to shut his eyes, to disappear, but it wouldn’t stop. It never stopped.

And then, for the first time, he spoke without being prompted.

“I’m jealous,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan’s smirk deepened. “What’s that, Grandpa?”

Walter’s fingers twitched, his nails pressing deeper into his palms. He exhaled shakily, his voice stronger this time. “I’m jealous… of how strong you are. How you can move so easily, how you can run and jump without thinking about it. I’m jealous of your energy, how you wake up feeling rested, how your body isn’t slowing you down.” The words spilled from his lips like a confession, each one tightening the grip around his chest.

Ryan folded his arms, nodding smugly. “Go on.”

Walter shut his eyes for a moment, as if saying it out loud might somehow make it worse, but the pressure was unbearable. He had to let it out. “I’m jealous of how people look at you. The respect you get. The admiration. I’m jealous that when you talk, people listen. I’m jealous that you don’t get treated like you’re fragile, like you’re in the way.” He inhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a hoarse murmur. “I’m jealous that you have your whole life ahead of you while mine is…” He trailed off, unable to finish.

Dr. Carter, who had been watching intently, leaned forward slightly, his expression warm with approval. “This is good, Walter. Acknowledging these emotions is important for your progress. But there’s something else you need to say.”

Walter’s stomach twisted. “What?”

Dr. Carter’s voice was steady, coaxing. “Despite your jealousy, despite everything you feel… you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you? You would rather be Walter Holloway. That’s who you are, and that’s who you want to be.”

Walter felt a lump lodge itself in his throat. His skin felt hot, prickling with shame, with exhaustion.

Ryan was watching him expectantly, his smirk lingering, waiting for him to break completely.

Walter’s jaw tightened. The weight pressing down on him was suffocating. He wanted it to stop. He wanted all of this to stop.

So he did the only thing he could.

He nodded. “Yes.”

Dr. Carter’s smile widened. “Say it, Walter.”

Walter’s lips parted, the words slow, shaky, forced. “I… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ryan’s smirk deepened.

Dr. Carter beamed. “Good. That’s very good.”

Walter stared at the floor, feeling the last of his resistance crumble. It was done. He had said what they wanted to hear.

Dr. Carter smiled approvingly at Walter’s supposed ‘progress.’ “Good, Walter. Acknowledging these feelings is an important step. Now, let’s reinforce this understanding with sensory exercises.”

Walter’s stomach churned. He knew what was coming. He had endured these exercises before, each one designed to strip him of whatever dignity he had left. A quick glance at Ryan confirmed his fears—his grandson, now towering over him in the body that once belonged to him, was already smirking, barely containing his amusement.

“Stand up,” Dr. Carter instructed, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. Walter pushed himself up slowly, his joints stiff, his movements sluggish, while Ryan rose effortlessly, his youthful body full of strength and energy. Walter barely had time to steady himself before Ryan took a deliberate step forward, his presence overwhelming.

“Face each other,” Dr. Carter continued.

Ryan wasted no time closing the gap between them, his muscular chest nearly brushing against Walter’s frail one. Walter could feel the heat radiating from his former body, his skin tingling with the stark contrast between them.

“Walter, touch Ryan’s face,” Dr. Carter directed. “Feel the difference.”

Walter’s fingers trembled as he reached up, brushing against Ryan’s jawline. The skin was firm, the bone structure sharp and defined—nothing like the sagging, soft flesh that now hung from his own face.

Dr. Carter’s voice remained steady. “And what do you feel?”

Walter swallowed hard. “Strength,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan chuckled. “Damn right,” he said, flexing his jaw for emphasis. “Feels solid, doesn’t it? Not like that loose mess you’ve got now.”

Walter’s face burned, but Dr. Carter wasn’t finished. “Now, move to his shoulders.”

Walter obeyed, his hands hesitantly trailing down to Ryan’s broad shoulders. They were powerful, firm with well-developed muscle. His grip tightened slightly as he traced the structure, feeling the undeniable strength beneath his fingertips.

“Compare it to your own,” Dr. Carter ordered.

Walter pulled back slowly and reached for his own shoulders, wincing at the stark contrast. His hands met soft, sagging skin, the once-solid mass now reduced to frailty. Before he could react, Ryan’s hands followed suit, gripping Walter’s shoulders with an exaggerated squeeze.

“Man, this is like grabbing a sack of dough,” Ryan quipped, kneading Walter’s flesh mockingly. “No muscle left, huh? Just… soft.”

Dr. Carter ignored the taunt. “Now, Walter, his arms.”

Walter’s hands hesitantly wrapped around Ryan’s biceps. They were thick, hard, brimming with power. Ryan flexed with a smirk, his muscle bulging beneath Walter’s touch.

“Give it a squeeze,” Ryan encouraged. “Go on, Grandpa. Feel what real strength is like.”

Walter did as instructed, though the action only deepened his humiliation. The sheer power in Ryan’s arms was undeniable. Then, before Walter could react, Ryan reached for his arms, gripping them in return.

“Wow,” Ryan mused, squeezing the loose skin. “There’s just… nothing here. No definition, no strength. Just… flab.” He gave Walter’s arm a light shake, watching as the skin wobbled pathetically. “Man, that’s depressing.”

Walter clenched his teeth, his body stiff with shame, but the session was far from over. Dr. Carter’s voice cut through the tension. “His chest, Walter.”

Walter’s hands hesitated before settling on Ryan’s chest. It was firm, solid, each muscle defined and sculpted. He swallowed hard, already dreading the next instruction.

“Now your own.”

Walter pulled his hands away and pressed them against his own chest. His fingers sank into soft flesh, the skin loose and yielding beneath his touch. Ryan wasted no time mirroring the action, pressing a hand against Walter’s chest before bursting into laughter.

“Wow. It’s like feeling an old couch cushion,” Ryan taunted, giving a light squeeze. “No muscle. No tone. Just sagging.”

Walter’s humiliation deepened, but Dr. Carter continued. “His abdomen, Walter.”

Walter’s hands trailed down Ryan’s torso, brushing against the ridges of his six-pack, the muscles firm and unyielding. The contrast was unbearable.

“Now your own.”

Walter forced himself to touch his own stomach, feeling the soft, excess flesh pooling beneath his fingertips. Ryan, ever the tormentor, pressed a firm hand against Walter’s belly and gave it a condescending jiggle.

“Damn,” Ryan laughed. “What happened, old man? You used to have abs—now you’ve got this?” He patted Walter’s stomach mockingly. “Guess you don’t need to worry about sit-ups anymore, huh?”

Walter squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the shame, but there was no escape.

Dr. Carter continued, “his legs.”

Walter’s hands slid down to Ryan’s thighs, feeling the sheer power in the muscle. His legs were strong, lean, built for movement. Ryan shifted slightly under Walter’s touch, flexing his quadriceps just to emphasize the contrast.

“And your own,” Dr. Carter prompted.

Walter obeyed, his hands falling to his own thighs. They were thin, weak, lacking the firmness they once had. Ryan reached down, gripping Walter’s thigh in return, his fingers pressing into the soft, aging flesh.

“These legs are useless,” Ryan scoffed, shaking his head. “No wonder you walk like you’re about to fall over.”

Walter’s head hung low. The session had stripped him down piece by piece, leaving him raw, exposed, and utterly powerless. Ryan, meanwhile, stood tall, his smirk one of pure, unfiltered satisfaction.

Dr. Carter nodded, seemingly satisfied with the exercise so far. “Now, we’re going to take this a step further. I want both of you to smell each other. Start with the armpits.”

Walter’s eyes widened in horror. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Dr. Carter said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Smell is a powerful sense—it can help ground you in reality. Ryan, go first.”

Ryan smirked, raising his arm and flexing slightly to expose his armpit. “Go ahead, Grandpa. Take a whiff.”

Walter hesitated, his stomach churning at the thought. But under Dr. Carter’s watchful gaze, he leaned in, his nose brushing against Ryan’s armpit. The scent hit him immediately—musky, masculine, and undeniably Ryan. It was intoxicating, and Walter couldn’t help but feel a pang of arousal.

“Who’s musk does that belong to, Walter?” Dr. Carter asked.

“Ryan’s,” Walter admitted, his face burning with shame.

“Good. Now, Ryan, smell Walter.”

Ryan grinned, raising Walter’s arm and pressing his nose against the older man’s armpit. He took a deep breath, the scent filling his nostrils. It was musty, the smell of age and neglect, and Ryan wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Man, that’s just… gross,” Ryan said, pulling away with a grimace. “Smells like old sweat and decay.”

Dr. Carter’s voice cut through the heavy silence, calm and clinical as ever. “Now, Walter, Ryan, I want you to take this exercise one step further than before. I want you to explore the differences between your bodies in their most… intimate form.”

Walter’s breath hitched, his stomach twisting into knots. “What?” he choked out, his voice barely audible. He could feel Ryan’s gaze burning into him, smug and expectant.

“You heard the doctor, Grandpa,” Ryan said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Time to get up close and personal.”

Dr. Carter nodded, her expression unchanged. “You will touch each other’s genitals. This is an essential part of understanding the physical disparities between you and accepting them.”

Walter’s heart raced, his breath catching in his throat. He knew what was coming, and the dread coiled tightly in his gut. He glanced up at Ryan, who was already smirking, his youthful arrogance shining through. Ryan’s eyes gleamed with anticipation, and Walter could see the faint bulge in his pants—a cruel reminder of the vitality that now belonged to his grandson.

“Stand closer,” Dr. Carter instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. Walter took a shaky step forward, his frail body trembling as Ryan closed the gap between them with ease. The warmth of Ryan’s body radiated against Walter’s, the contrast between their physical states almost unbearable.

“Walter,” Dr. Carter began, “reach out and touch Ryan’s waistband. Feel the difference in your bodies’ structure.”

“Go on, Grandpa,” Ryan taunted, his voice laced with mockery. “Touch it. Feel what a real man has.”

Walter’s hands trembled as he hesitantly reached for Ryan’s hips. His fingers brushed against the fabric of his grandson’s pants, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath. Ryan shifted slightly, intentionally pressing his hips forward, and Walter’s fingers accidentally grazed the bulge that was unmistakably there. Walter jerked his hand back as if burned, his face flushing with humiliation.

“What’s the matter, Grandpa?” Ryan teased, his voice dripping with mockery. “Scared of a little contact? Or maybe you’re just jealous?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Walter’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll make this easy for you.”

Before Walter could react, Ryan grabbed his hand and placed it firmly on his own crotch. Walter’s fingers instinctively curled around the hard, throbbing length beneath the fabric. He tried to pull away, but Ryan held him in place, his grip strong and unrelenting. “Feel that?” Ryan whispered, his voice low and taunting. “That’s what strength feels like. That’s what youth feels like. Bet you haven’t felt anything like that in years, huh?”

Walter’s face burned, his humiliation intensifying with every passing second. He could feel the heat of Ryan’s arousal through the fabric, the undeniable proof of his grandson’s virility. It was a cruel reminder of everything he had lost—the firmness, the energy, the life that had once been his.

“That’s it,” Ryan encouraged, his voice low and taunting. “Feel how big it is.”

Walter’s fingers trembled as he wrapped them around Ryan’s shaft, the girth filling his hand in a way that made his own seem laughable in comparison. He could feel the heat radiating from it, the pulse of life that seemed to throb with every beat of Ryan’s heart.

Dr. Carter’s voice cut through the tension, steady and unyielding. “Now, Walter, it’s your turn. Let Ryan touch you.”

Walter’s stomach churned, his mind screaming in protest. But he knew there was no escape. Walter’s breath hitched again as Ryan’s hand closed around him, the difference between them painfully obvious. Ryan’s grip was firm, confident, his fingers easily wrapping around Walter’s small, soft member.

“Wow,” Ryan said, his tone dripping with mockery. “It’s like… nothing. Just a little nub.” He gave a light squeeze, watching as Walter’s face flushed deeper with shame. “Guess you really have lost everything, huh?”

Walter’s face burned with shame, his body stiff under Ryan’s touch. He could feel the warmth of his grandson’s hand, the contrast between their bodies even more pronounced now. Ryan gave a light squeeze, his fingers exploring with a mocking curiosity.

“Nothing to work with here,” Ryan continued, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction. “Just… flaccid and lifeless. Like the rest of you.”

Ryan’s hand began to move, his fingers sliding up and down Walter’s cock with a deliberate, mocking slowness. “Feels like I’m touching a little worm,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “No muscle, no hardness. Just… limp.”

Walter’s breath came in shallow gasps, his humiliation and jealousy intertwining in a way that made his head spin. He tightened his grip on Ryan’s cock, his fingers sliding up and down the thick, hard shaft. He could feel the power in it, the way it seemed to pulse with life, mocking his own inadequacy.

“That’s right,” Ryan said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. “Feel it. Feel how much better I am than you.”

Walter’s hand moved faster, his grip tightening as he tried to block out the taunts. But no matter how much he tried to focus on the task at hand, he couldn’t escape the stark contrast between them. Ryan’s cock was everything his wasn’t—big, strong, alive.

Ryan’s own hand moved with a deliberate slowness, his fingers sliding up and down Walter’s small, soft cock with a mocking precision. “It’s almost cute,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “How pathetic it is.”

Ryan’s breathing grew heavier, his smirk widening as he watched Walter struggle. “That’s it, Grandpa,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “Keep going. Let’s see who finishes first.”

But then, without warning, Ryan’s body tensed, his smirk widening into a grin of pure triumph. “Here it comes,” he said, his voice low and filled with a mix of arrogance and excitement.

Walter’s eyes flew open just in time to see Ryan’s cock pulse, a thick stream of cum shooting out and hitting him square in the face. The warmth of it was almost suffocating, the sheer volume of it a stark reminder of Ryan’s virility. Walter froze, his hand still gripping Ryan’s cock as the younger man’s cum continued to spurt out, coating his face and dripping down onto his chest.

Walter’s own cock twitched in Ryan’s hand, a small, pitiful spurt of cum barely managing to escape. Ryan glanced down, his smirk widening as he took in the stark contrast between them. “That’s it?” he taunted, his voice filled with amusement. “That’s all you’ve got? Man, you really are pathetic.”

Walter’s face burned with humiliation, his body trembling as he tried to process the sheer difference between them. Ryan’s cum was still warm on his face, a bitter reminder of his own inadequacy. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could barely even think as the weight of Ryan’s dominance pressed down on him.

Dr. Carter nodded in approval. “Very good. Now, let’s proceed with hypnosis while you’re still euphoric. I want you both to sit down and listen to my voice.” They weren’t even allowed to clean themselves. 

Walter obeyed, already feeling lightheaded from the session. He barely reacted as Dr. Carter began speaking in a low, rhythmic voice, guiding him deeper into relaxation.

Dr. Carter’s voice deepened, slow and steady, like a distant pulse guiding them into the depths of their minds. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Let go of everything else. Picture yourselves stepping into a vast space, one that belongs to both of you.”

Walter felt himself sinking, drifting into the doctor’s words, his senses blurring as the weight of the session pressed against him.

Dr. Carter’s voice became a thread weaving through his mind. “You are in a grand hall,” he continued. “A palace of mirrors, stretching endlessly in all directions. There is no ceiling, no walls—only reflections, endless and pure.”

The vision took shape.

Walter found himself standing in an enormous, empty chamber. The floor was smooth and black, almost liquid in appearance, reflecting light that had no source. Tall, ornate mirrors lined the space in every direction, their silvered surfaces pristine, infinite, inescapable.

He wasn’t alone.

Ryan stood beside him, just as Dr. Carter had described, both of them facing the mirrors that surrounded them.

Dr. Carter’s voice was gentle but insistent. “Tell me, Walter… what do you see?”

Walter turned toward the nearest mirror, his breath catching in his throat.

Staring back at him wasn’t his wrinkled, aging face.

It was Ryan.

His reflection was young. Strong. The way he had once been.

A jolt of longing struck him like a knife between the ribs.

Ryan exhaled sharply beside him, amusement laced in his voice. “Hah. Would you look at that.”

Dr. Carter’s voice remained steady. “And if you look down at yourself, Walter… what do you see?”

Walter hesitated.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze.

His heart lurched.

He wasn’t looking at withered hands, spotted with age. His body—his mental body—wasn’t frail or weak.

It was Ryan’s.

The hands were young, strong, his shoulders broad, his posture straight. His chest solid, his legs full of power.

For a single, intoxicating moment, hope flared within him. Maybe this was the proof he needed. Maybe, if even his mind rejected this body, there was still a chance—

Dr. Carter turned his attention to Ryan. “And you, Ryan? What do you see?”

Ryan smirked. “Same thing. My reflection looks like Walter. And when I look down?” He flexed his fingers experimentally. “Old. Obese. Weak.”

Walter’s stomach twisted.

Dr. Carter nodded. “Good. That is your self-perception. The mind’s final grasp on the confusion. But that confusion will fade. The mind cannot fight the truth.”

The words slithered into Walter’s thoughts, sinking deeper.

“The reflections are truth,” Dr. Carter murmured. “The mind knows which body it belongs to.”

Walter turned his gaze back to the mirror.

His breath caught.

The image was… shifting.

The firm jawline softened. Wrinkles bled into the smooth skin. His chest lost its shape, sagging under the weight of years. His shoulders hunched, his legs losing definition. The reflection aged before his eyes.

His pulse pounded.

“No,” he whispered.

But the mirrors did not lie.

Across from him, Ryan’s reflection changed, too—but in the opposite way. The tired, aging body in his mirror straightened. Muscles formed beneath once-loose skin. His shoulders broadened. His stance grew confident, filled with youth.

Ryan chuckled softly, watching the change unfold.

Dr. Carter’s voice remained unwavering. “The reflections have settled. But now, the mind must align.”

Walter looked down, desperate—

His body still looked young. His hands were still Ryan’s hands. His chest still solid, his legs still strong.

The reflection was wrong.

It had to be wrong.

Ryan hummed thoughtfully, inspecting himself in the mirror. “Yeah… this is looking a lot better, huh?” He turned his head slightly, watching the light catch his sharp jawline. “Starting to feel natural.”

Walter’s breath grew shallow. “No…”

Dr. Carter’s tone became more commanding. “The mind must not fight the truth.”

The walls of mirrors shimmered.

A pull deep within Walter’s chest made his skin crawl. A sinking sensation washed over him, like he was being submerged, like something was being taken—

And then—

His hands.

His chest.

His legs.

They weren’t young anymore.

His own body—his mental body—had changed. The frail arms, the wrinkled skin, the weakened muscles—

It was all his again.

Walter gasped sharply, stumbling back.

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “No, no, no—”

Ryan’s laughter was quiet, smug.

Walter turned, wide-eyed, to see Ryan inspecting his own reflection. And this time, when Ryan looked down at himself—

He saw youth. Strength. Power.

And when he smirked, it wasn’t an illusion. It was real.

His body.

His mind.

It was over.

“You are Walter Holloway,” Dr. Carter’s voice droned. “You have always been Walter Holloway. You are an aging man, a father, a grandfather. And Ryan is your grandson. That is the truth. That is reality.”

Walter’s head swam. His body felt heavy. The words seeped into his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like chains.

Dr. Carter’s voice softened. “Tell me, Walter. Who are you?”

Walter’s heart thundered in his chest. He wanted to scream. To resist.

But as he looked back at the reflection—at the undeniable image staring back at him—his throat closed.

“I…”

Ryan exhaled, dragging out the moment, savoring it.

Dr. Carter’s voice was gentle but firm. “Say it.”

Walter swallowed hard, every ounce of fight draining from his limbs.

His lips trembled.

His voice barely above a whisper.

“I am Walter Holloway.”

Dr. Carter nodded approvingly. “And who is Ryan?”

Walter clenched his fists, but his reflection only showed old, frail hands curling in on themselves.

He looked at Ryan.

Ryan—young, smirking, victorious.

Walter’s head lowered in submission.

“My grandson.”

Ryan let out a slow breath, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That’s right.”

Dr. Carter smiled. “Very good. And tell me, Walter—despite everything, despite the jealousy, despite the past… would you have it any other way?”

Walter hesitated.

The mirrors had spoken.

The body.

The mind.

The truth.

He exhaled shakily.

“…No.”

Dr. Carter’s voice was a final, steady command. “Then accept it.”

Walter’s shoulders sagged.

His body.

His reflection.

His fate.

“…I accept it. I wouldn't have it any other way ”

Ryan grinned.

And Walter Holloway knew, with bone-deep certainty, that there was no going back.

The Conclusion

After weeks of relentless therapy, psychological conditioning, and medical evaluations, the doctors finally deemed Ryan and Walter fully adjusted to their "true" identities. There were no more arguments, no more desperate pleas, no more resistance—at least, not outwardly. Walter had long since realized that fighting was useless. He had been backed into a corner, stripped of everything, and molded into what they wanted him to be. The final signatures were scrawled onto discharge papers, the last stamp of approval sealing their fates. With that, the hospital doors were thrown open, allowing them to step back into the world—not as themselves, but as the people the system had forced them to become.

As they prepared to leave, the contrast between them was stark. Walter—now in Ryan’s youthful, athletic body—was practically glowing with excitement, while Ryan—trapped in Walter’s aging, weakened frame—moved stiffly, weighed down by both the ill-fitting clothes and the unbearable reality of his situation.

Dressing that morning had been its own form of torture for Walter. The thick fabric of the slacks chafed against his legs, and the button-up shirt felt foreign, like a costume draped over someone he no longer recognized. The cardigan smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale detergent, a scent that clung to him like an accusation. The orthopedic shoes were stiff and heavy, dragging his steps down even further. Each layer of clothing was a reminder of what had been taken from him.

Ryan, on the other hand, had never felt better. He relished the way Ryan’s well-fitted tank top hugged his torso, how the jeans sat comfortably on his hips like they had always belonged to him. But the best part—the part that made it all feel real—was the scent. With a satisfied smirk, he rolled on Walter’s deodorant, letting the crisp, masculine smell envelop him. Then, with slow deliberation, he reached for Walter’s cologne, giving himself a generous spritz before inhaling deeply.

“Ahh,” Ryan sighed dramatically, stretching his arms in satisfaction. “Now this smells like me.”

When it was finally time to leave, Ryan snatched the car keys and twirled them between his fingers, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll drive,” he said, shooting Walter a knowing glance. “Considering the last time you were behind the wheel, we both ended up in the hospital, I’d say it’s for the best.” The words were lighthearted, but the smugness in his tone made Walter’s jaw tighten.

Walter said nothing. What could he say? He simply followed Ryan out of the hospital, his slow, weary steps a bitter contrast to Ryan’s confident, youthful stride. Ryan moved like he owned the world—because, in a way, he did. Walter, burdened by age, weight, and the cruel truth of his new reality, shuffled behind him, feeling smaller with every step.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Ryan adjusted the mirrors, the seat, the steering wheel—everything to fit his new, larger frame.

Walter sank into the passenger seat, feeling uncomfortably out of place in a car that had once been his. The interior, the familiar scent, the worn leather—all reminders of a life that no longer belonged to him.

The sun bore down through the windshield, and Ryan exhaled dramatically. “Damn, it’s hot.” With a smirk, he grabbed his tank top and pulled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it onto the dashboard before buckling his seatbelt. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, the ridges of his abs shifting as he settled in. Walter forced his gaze forward, his gut twisting at the sight of his former body, now so casually on display.

Ryan drummed his fingers on the wheel, then shot Walter another grin. “Ready to go, Gramps?”

Walter swallowed hard, his throat dry. He had no choice but to nod. The drive home felt longer than ever.

When they arrived home, Ryan stepped through the door with effortless ease, his posture relaxed, his smile easy—exactly how the old Ryan used to be. He greeted his family with a familiar charm, embracing them with warmth and speaking with the natural confidence of a young man who had his entire life ahead of him. They welcomed him with open arms, laughing at his jokes, asking about his recovery, completely unaware of the horrifying truth behind his stolen identity. 

Meanwhile, Walter stood awkwardly at the threshold, his movements slower, his presence smaller. The moment their eyes landed on him, everything changed. His family’s smiles faltered just slightly, their expressions shifting into something softer—gentle, but laced with a quiet pity. They spoke to him in lowered tones, carefully enunciating their words as if he might not understand. A hesitant pat on the shoulder, a brief exchange of pleasantries—it was clear they saw him as an old man who needed patience, not as the person he truly was. Every glance that lingered too long, every concerned look exchanged behind his back only deepened the pit in his stomach. He had come home, and yet, for the first time in his life, he had never felt more out of place.

The transition was swift and brutal. The old Walter stepped seamlessly into Ryan’s life, assuming every aspect of his former grandson’s existence as if he had always belonged there. He moved into Ryan’s bedroom, effortlessly adjusting to the space—the unmade bed, the posters on the walls, the faint scent of cologne still lingering in the air. It took him no time at all to settle into the familiar routine: early morning workouts at the gym, cracking jokes with Ryan’s friends, slipping into easy, flirtatious conversations with women who had once been off-limits. He thrived in this body, this life, indulging in every sensation and pleasure that came with youth.

Meanwhile, Walter was forced into a role he had never imagined for himself—that of an aging, powerless retiree. His world shrank overnight, confined to the quiet, unremarkable existence of an old man whose presence barely registered to those around him. He was no longer included in conversations the way he once had been; his opinions carried less weight, his presence went unnoticed. His body, once strong and agile, now ached with every movement, reminding him constantly of what he had lost.

But the most painful losses weren’t physical. They were the pieces of his identity that were stripped away, one by one, until there was nothing left of the man he had once been. His phone—his direct connection to the world he knew—was surrendered, replaced with a simple device meant for seniors, its contents erased. His bank accounts, his credit cards, the very name attached to them. His clothes were replaced with drab, practical attire suited for an elderly man, his favorite belongings distributed without a second thought. With every item he relinquished, the reality of his new existence settled in deeper, suffocating him.

The nights were the worst. Lying alone in his unfamiliar bed, Walter would hear the sounds coming from his old bedroom—the laughter, the music, the muffled voices. And then, sometimes, the unmistakable sounds of passion, of intimacy, of a body that had once been his, now used for pleasures he could no longer experience. A sharp, ugly jealousy burned within him, twisting his stomach into knots, but he swallowed it down. This was reality. This was how things were meant to be. Walter was Ryan now, and he, the old Ryan, was nothing more than an old man. And so, he forced himself to close his eyes, to let go of the bitterness, to accept the life that had been decided for him.

Now, back in the privacy of Ryan’s—his—room, Ryan stood shirtless in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the body that was now his. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden glow over his skin. He ran his hands over his chest, down his stomach, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his fingers. He was perfect. Every inch of him.

He turned to the side, flexing his biceps, watching as the muscle tensed and bulged. He reached down, cupping the firmness of his ass, squeezing it experimentally. A shiver of pleasure ran through him. This body… it was electric. Every touch felt amplified, every sensation more intense than he remembered.

His hands drifted lower, tracing the defined lines of his abdomen, until his fingers dipped below the waistband of his sweatpants. He let out a low groan as he took himself in hand, feeling the heat and hardness of his new body. It had been years—decades, really—since he’d felt like this. Young. Hungry. Alive.

He began to stroke himself slowly, his eyes locked on his reflection. His breath quickened as he watched his face flush, his lips part in pleasure. He couldn’t look away. The sight of himself—his youthful self—was intoxicating. Every movement, every twitch of muscle, every bead of sweat rolling down his skin was a reminder of what he’d gained.

His hand moved faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps now. He let his free hand roam over his chest, tweaking a nipple, feeling the sharp jolt of pleasure that shot through him. He was close—so close. His head fell back, a low moan escaping his lips as he reached the edge.

And then he was there, his body shuddering with release, his hand still moving as he spilled onto his stomach. He stood there for a moment, panting, his heart racing, his mind buzzing with satisfaction.

When he finally opened his eyes and opened his selfie camera, he couldn’t help but grin. This was his body now. His new life. And he was going to enjoy every damn second of it.

Ryan flourished in his stolen youth, embracing every ounce of vitality and strength that came with it. At home, he rarely bothered with a shirt, his toned physique constantly on display as he stretched, flexed, and moved with the effortless confidence of a man in his prime. Every movement seemed designed to remind Walter of what he had lost, of the body that once belonged to him but now obeyed another. Ryan's reflection had become a source of pride, and he ensured that his new grandfather—his former self—saw exactly what he had become.

He took to Ryan’s life as if it had always been his own, stepping seamlessly into friendships, relationships, and professional pursuits. His charm made the transition effortless. No one questioned the shift in demeanor, the newfound confidence and ease with which he navigated the world. Even in love, he thrived. The woman the old Ryan had once longed for but could never quite win over was now his. He had everything the old Ryan had struggled for, and he had taken it without consequence. Every success, every moment of pleasure, was a reminder that this was his life now, and no one—not even the man who had once lived it—could change that.

Meanwhile, Walter withered under the weight of his new reality. He was no longer seen as the strong, capable man he had once been. Now, he was an afterthought—an aging, pitiful figure trapped in a body that betrayed him at every turn. His protests were dismissed as the confused ramblings of a senile old man, his desperation met with sympathetic nods and condescending reassurances. He was humored, not heard. The fight drained out of him with each passing day, his words fading into silence as he realized the futility of it all. He was powerless, forced to watch his old body, his old life, thrive without him.

Eventually, Walter stopped fighting. There was no point anymore. The world had already moved on, and he had been left behind. He no longer corrected people when they called him Walter. He no longer tried to reclaim what had been stolen. He simply accepted it. And with that acceptance, the last remnants of his old self faded away. For all intents and purposes, he was Walter Holloway.

https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXetnQg1GJNopG4fBsKFeJQmKSQHdGOH5rVqxdbiVZTEUrk3NmzvlBE_qid0DNp_F797AUaoptTbMZ__sivOcgt9dhmeyulsY1gA6HJo_AYU3L7BUaAg1VlFT0HsP-k1GowhELtwLA?key=kgQC7utVG18iSUuBehAZym-C

A full year passed since the accident, since their minds had been wrenched from their rightful places and forced into new vessels. The family gathered once again, a mirror image of the last time—except everything had changed. Ryan played the role of grandson with ease, laughing, joking, exuding the boundless energy of youth. Walter sat in the background, the quiet, aging patriarch. Something inside him had shifted as well. The resistance had vanished, replaced by something resembling contentment—or at least resignation.

For a fleeting moment, a thought crept into his mind. It had been a year since we were out of our minds. A year since fate—or something else—had rewritten their lives. But he pushed the thought away, willing himself to believe what he needed to believe. He was, is, and always would be Walter Holloway. And the man across the room, the one who had once been his grandfather, was, is, and always would be Ryan.

The End.